"You could spend every dollar you ever earned, and it would be totally worth it."

It was 8:15 in the morning and it was raining as I made my way down to the AJ Hackett bungy shop right in the center of Queenstown.  Justin had done the 134-meter Nevis high wire bungy 2 years ago last time in Queenstown, so if I was going to do it, it was going to have to be solo.  This is the second biggest bungy jump in the world and considering I have never done a bungy jump before it made me a little "uneasy." Of course Justin did his best to make the whole process seem as frightening as possible (as most of you could imagine) which only added to my fear.

Justin described the 45-minute 4x4 bus ride through the mountains to the Nevis canyon as, what he though, to be the least safe part of the journey.  I could easily see why, we were in this huge bus on a very narrow dirt road with 100-meter drop-offs on either side. When we made it to the top we got our first look at what we were be jumping out of.  In the center on this massive canyon was this cable car that looked like the size of a shoebox suspended from 3 wires that ran across the gap.  I didn't like the looks of it.

Before I could fully take in my surrounding, I was being fitted into a harness, of course with my back to what I was about to do.  Then, me and the other 10 individuals who thought it would be a good idea to do this thing found ourselves getting the "safety" talk.  I was expecting some 15-minute video warning us about the dangers and how the whole process worked.  I was not even close, this "safety" speech was simply "take everything out of your pockets and I need numbers 1-4 to follow me," I was number 4.

We followed this guy to a small open-air booth that was attached to the same cable as the jump station. He then strapped our harnesses to the bar and told us to hold on.  We started to move along the cable, I looked down and my heart started to pump very fast, we were way higher up then I though we would be.  When we got to the bigger, jumping station I realized I was only a few moments away from actually doing this. Techno music was pumping as we sat on the Plexiglas seats and waited to get a foot harnesses fitted.              Then you walked through a small gate which led to the metal chair that propped your feet up to be attached to the bungy.  Next it was stepping up to small piece of plywood to look down, then came the final words from the jumpmaster, "pick a spot on the mountain and jump towards it.” I held my breath and leaped forward.  I was in free fall for 9 seconds; it felt like forever with the ground getting closer and closer.  I remember about half way through thinking I wasn't attached properly and that I wasn't going to spring back up, that's how long the free fall was. It was amazing; it feels like you actually cheated death.

After bouncing up and down a couple of times I pulled the release cord that turned me right side up so all the blood didn't rush to my head as they winched me back to the cable car. The rest of the time was kind of like a blur, I was floating with excitement, I wanted to go again.  But of course it is way too much money to do it twice in one day so I soon found myself in the cable car back to the base station where I could look at my photos and video from the jump.  Obviously being a sucker for this kind of stuff I bought both and would be happy to show them to anyone.

            So that is how I kicked off my time in the adrenaline capital of the world.  Justin and I did heaps of ridiculous activities that would make both our mothers cringe.  Here is what we like to refer to as the extreme rundown:

We first went whitewater rafting in the shot over canyon.  There were class 3 and 4 rapids but unfortunately there was not enough water for the class 5s to be working.  Then we did the 43-meter ledge bungy jump that is on a mountain top 400 meters above Queenstown.  This was the “freestyle” bungy so I did a flip off it and Justin one upped me with a gainer. Next was the shot over canyon swing.  Basically we got attached to a cable, jumped off a ledge for a 60-meter free fall, and then did a 200-meter arc at 150 kph.  Additional jumps were only 20 dollars, we obviously did that one twice.   Between these activities in our "down time" we raced down the street luge course that overlooked Queenstown.  Finally our favorite activity that we saved for our last day was canyoning.  Canyoning is a relatively unknown activity to most people, even in Queenstown.  It involves hiking, zip lining, abseiling, rockslides, cliff jumps, and of course variations of these, all is 40 degree rushing rapids.  For instance one of the obstacles involved climbing up a hill, zip lining to the center of the canyon, abseiling ourselves down from 20 meters to about 3 meters over the rapids, then releasing ourselves into the freezing water.  It was extreme and we both are already looking for the next place where we can do it again.  Also the gear they put you in made for some price less photos.  The outfits consisted of 10mm of neoprene wetsuit, helmets with funny names on them (I was Rocky and Justin was Zorro), matching lifejackets, booties and harnesses.

We certainly got the most we could get out of the place.  Just last night while cooking dinner Justin pointed out that we did every activity that had a poster up on the wall of our hostel. Queenstown really is an amazing place; you could literally do a different extreme activity everyday for at least a month if your budget allowed you to.  Of course we needed to run away fast because as Justin puts it, "You could spend every dollar you ever earned, and it would be totally worth it."  Everyone should make it there at some point in his or her life.

Adventures with Brock and Cait

So my bag was lost.  For the few of you who have had the “opportunity” to witness me when I am, let’s just say “uncomfortable”, you know I can be quite a scene.  Whether in times of panic, desperation, or just plain old annoyed I always provide solid entertainment for Justin.  Needless to say as I exited customs, an hour after Justin decided to abandon me, bag-less, better yet without clean clothes, solo, I was obviously in rare form. Not the best mood to be in when I was about to meet Justin’s friend from Nantucket, Cait, and her Kiwi boyfriend Brock, whom we would be hanging out with for the next week.  Justin had told me a bunch of great stories about Brock, so I was pretty excited to finally meet him.  Sure enough Justin’s description of him was spot on, he played rugby, loved the water (especially spear fishing), talked really fast, and always had witty comments, this guy was Mr. New Zealand.   I knew Brock was classic from the minute we exited the terminal and he suggested we go to Wendy’s for a “pre dinner snack.” I had a small fry, Brock on the other hand, a large #2, and first dibs on what ever was not eaten. My mood went from the worst to the best, I love Wendy’s and I had a feeling I was soon going to love New Zealand.

            After our delicious Wendy’s we arrived at Brock’s house where we met his sister, Ashley and her boyfriend Corey.  This guy was huge, had a half sleeve tattoo of his Maori heritage, and scared the crap out of Justin and me. Much to our surprise, he was a really mellow guy who loved Playstation 3 and motorcycles.  So we all played Rock Band and the Beijing 2008 Olympic game and had plenty of laughs together.   I had never played the Beijing 2008 Olympic game, and when Corey told me to put a sock on my hand to achieve better times…I was confused but I did it and it worked. As Corey said. “It improves your sprinting speed mate." Corey claimed I was a natural, but Brock would have nothing of it.  

            The fun and games continued the next day when Justin discovered a mini chopper motorcycle in the garage that belonged to Corey. Brock thought this thing was a death trap and refused to ride.  Granted it probably was. It had a flat rear tire and spike in the center of the handlebars. Still, Corey insisted that we try it out, and since Justin and I have such an extensive background with motorbikes, we gave it a shot. It was pretty funny watching Justin and I on this mini bike, but watching Corey was just hilarious, he looked like he could have bent the handlebars with the slightest moment, we obviously got plenty of pictures.

            After a couple of days down in Raglan we met back up with Brock and Cait to venture up to Brock’s parent's house in the Bay of Islands.  We were originally going to drive up with them, but in the 2 days we were gone, Brock had come across an opportunity he could not pass up.  He explained to us that he had found the boat on trademe.com (New Zealand eBay, which he loved) and it was such a good deal that he couldn't pass it up. "The boat is in great condition mate and you can't sink it! Perfect for diving, dad said I can't pass up the deal." So plans changed and the new idea was that Brock was going to pickup the boat while we took a bus up to the Bay of Islands, then when he got up there the next day, he would pick us up and bring us to his house.

Justin and I spent the night in Paihia and the next morning we went for wonderful sail around the bay.  

            We decided to meet Brock and Cait at the visitor’s center in Paihia to then go to Brock's place in Kerikeri.  Normally this would not have been an issue considering it is a small town and there are not normally many people of the street.  However, right around when we were supposed to be picked up the streets started to get very crowded.  We had no idea what was going on but then out of nowhere a little kid yelled, "Look it’s Santa Claus" and sure enough there he was hovering overhead, but not in a sled, rather hanging out of a helicopter.  It was the town of Paihia's Christmas parade and Justin and I had prime seats to see Santa land in his helicopter, and start the show.  It was a very "green" parade and we got a couple of laughs, but it was not as funny when we finally met up with Cait and found out she had been stuck in traffic for the last hour waiting to get into town.

            When we finally arrived to Brocks house we found him doing underwater laps in the pool to train for spear fishing.  Slightly intense but this was nothing compared to the next day when we met his best mate Kirby, water man and spear fishing extraordinaire.  Kirby had a cameo wet suit that was sweet, and more spear guns then we had ever seen.  The best part was he had youtube videos of him using all his gear to catch some pretty big fish, but at the end, when they came up from under water he would cover the screen so neither us nor Brock could see the secret location. It was insane he could hold his breath for 2 minutes while in pursuit of 3-foot kingfish, very impressive.

            After a week of adventures with Brock in the North Island it was unfortunately time to leave.  We had an amazing time with Cait, Brock and all of their family and friends.  It was sad to have to say goodbye but we knew the next stop was the adventure capital of the world, Queenstown in the South Island. We were excited for Queenstown; we had 5 days of adrenaline pumping activity ahead of us.

“Why is she crying, that movie is “epic” Leo is a stud, and sorry “babe” its real life. If you cant handle the heat, get out of the kitchen!”

We walked off the plane with a grin on our face. Unlike the majority of our trip, this leg, the New Zealand leg, actually began ahead of schedule. It was a bit of a fight, but some how, some way, the “tis the season” line worked in Brisbane. We avoided our 9-hour lay over and landed in Auckland 6 hours early. This was going to be a piece of cake. The sun was shining; it was warm, not skin melting off my body warm, but just ideal. To top it off, we were pretty sure Brock and Cait were going to be waiting for us once we picked up our bags and got through customs.
Picking up “our” bags turned out to be a little more of a process than we had planned. Waiting for our bags felt like an eternity. The thought of Brock possibly waiting all this time for us made me rather un easy. My bag came out first, and when I got it I told Derek I was going to go through so they new we had arrived. I’d meet him on the other side of the perforated glass. Soon after spotting Brock in his standard overly tight (he will argue other wise) v-neck shirt, boardies and thongs, I received a text from Derek. Like usual, it was rather charming and along the lines of “Hey asshole, thanks a lot for leaving me. My f&%king bag is lost and the baggage lady won’t help me because your not here.” Well… some how Derek managed to “woo” her, got through customs, met Brock and Cait, and our kiwi experience began.
I’ll let Derek go into more detail about Brock and Cait, but to say the least they did not disappoint us, not one bit.
Anyway, after a couple days with the Brock-Star, he rented us a car so we could trek down to Raglan and hopefully score some surf. We agreed to re unite in a couple of days and head up north together, but first, surf. It was summer, Raglan should be prefect. It was swell season and the weather should be on our side. Turned out it was swell season, top to bottom barrels, a million people in the water, truly an awesome day. Weather wise however, well, it was freaking freezing, and we had sent all of our warm cloths, and wetsuits home after South Africa.
We had to rent wetsuits. If you’ve never worn a wetsuit, they are a rather personal experience. They all fit different, and most importantly most people urinate in them. Derek was not thrilled to say the least. I did not care as much, as long as they kept us warm. Apparently Derek and I lost a few pounds, because the large wetsuits we rented were more like wizards gowns. We were not surfers entering the water but rather two new characters in a Harry Potter movie returning to Hogwartz. Loose and baggy, and when we paddled out, we each filled up like a balloon. I practically sank, and the water was “glacial”.
We were staying at Raglan backpackers. It was perfect, cheap and considered to be a surf hostel. We figured perfect, it will be just like Bali, just a new country. Wrong! Instead of being filled with surfers, it was filled with people “thinking” about surfing, a guy named Jake who enjoyed semi frozen red wine, and used the word “epic” in ever other sentence and a girl who could not handle the movie Blood Diamond. Rather than watching it, and the happy ending, she spent a half an hour crying in the courtyard while Jake comforted her. Well “Jake” I think you would agree with Derek when Derek said “Why is she crying, that movie is “epic” Leo is a stud, and sorry “babe” its real life. If you cant handle the heat, get out of the kitchen!”
NZ started out…well I guess perfect, we met up with Brock, scored some great surf, froze our butts off but surfed, and met some “epic” people. Two days later we headed back up north and to go to Brocks families place in the Keri Keri.

"Can You Smell It?"

90% of my entire surfing career has taken place on Nantucket. The same break, at the end of the same dirt road, filled with the same friends, year after year. Needless to say, out in the water, it's more of a locker room than a surf line up. Everyone poking fun at each other, quoting stupid movies, trying to recap the previous night, but most importantly, looking to be the first to spot the next wave. This "style" of surfing has also developed its own kind of language, such as a "tasty nugget" for a good wave, "its going off" to describe an epic day, or my personal favorite "smelling" a good wave. Smelling a good wave happens when its flat for a while until someone claims they "smell" a good wave on the horizon. Its absolutely ridiculous but sometimes, when the stars align, that ridiculous statement is immediately followed by the wave of the day.
Well it was just one of those days, the water never felt so good, The sky so blue, but most importantly the waves were just epic. Pizza point, otherwise know as "secret spot" was going off, and there was just 6 of us in the water. Each of us not only from different countries, but from different continents, previously knowing each other for a mere 36 hours. However, to add to the quality of the day the previous 36 hours of knowing each other, felt more 36 years. Rambunctious, loud, and hilarious are the most appropriate adjectives to describe this "squad" of surfers. Joel the 14yr old fearless Aussie, would take off any wave even if he had no chance of making it and then, once he popped up from under the water, would yell "did you see that thrashing, it was insane." (Later that week he broke his board) Javier, from Spain, who was constantly fighting off last nights hangover, was grinning ear to ear with his "Vieno" stained teeth. Putu our local surf guide, who never gave us a straight answer, (when we first me him he told us he was still learning. False, he ripped) he even said he had never seen it this good. And finally, Derek and me, who took turns yelling at each other "can you believe were in Bali, this is amazing." Bruce Brown said it best, the most epic days are when its just you and your buddies in the water trading off on waves that were "gangbusters." This session was so fun and perfect, I found myself feeling as comfortable as I am surfing on Nantucket, and decided (during a long flat period) to "smell" a big wave." This line could have been received two ways. Either they thought I was nuts or they would love it. I mean smelling waves its kind of insane. Well lucky for me they remained my friends because, they absolutely loved it Putu was like, "What? You smell a big wave." I just looked at him and was like yea, and next thing we knew a monster rolled in and wiped out all of us.That session at Pizza Point was not our biggest session in Bali, but it was definitely the most fun. We all spent the rest of the day "smelling" the next wave.

Later that week, Saranghaung was pumping. An easy double overhead plus (12 to 14ft faces). It was huge, the line-up was packed, and everybody was rather intense, being that these massive waves were breaking over razor sharp reef in only 3ft of water. The object of this day was to pick the right wave, and make it, because if you didn't….well then you were going to spend a lot of time underwater. To say the least, there was a feeling of anxiety in everyone's faces, or so I thought. About 2 hours into our session it just went flat, but on a day like this "flat" is scary because all it means is that a massive set is looming in the water, waiting to have its hay day on all the surfers. Everyone was silent just staring out at the horizon. The only noise was of each surfer bobbing in and out of the water, waiting, trying to spot the outside bomb that was building in the deep water. Then from behind me I heard this paddling, which was followed by "Hey Justin, you smell that." In my head I was like "Putu, shut up everyone is gonna look at us like we're kooks, smelling the waves....not here not now" well this "riskay" line actually ignited the lineup with laughter, almost like a sigh of relief from the intense surf session. About 2 minutes later a huge wave came through, no one was prepared and it washed me and about 40 other people half way to shore. When we all finally made it back out, one indo guy asked Putu, "Why didn't you smell that one?" Putu shrugged, they laughed and obviously the rest of the day again was spent "smelling" waves. It was truly amazing how one phrase, can transform a scary day of surf, into a silly day in the water just with way bigger waves. Resembling what I love, or anyone loves most about there home wave, and finding it all the way in Bali. Just about every day!

“Fictional, this Place is Fictional”

Justin has been talking about his love for Bali since the minute he returned from his abroad experience in Australia.  Obviously very enthusiastic to return, he did his best to describe this Surf Mecca, but, of course, being Justin, he didn’t want to build it up too much in fear that if for some reason it had changed it would lead us to be disappointed.  However, within the first hour of our plane landing, he realized nothing had changed and we were going to be in for quite possibly the best two weeks of our lives.

            On our way to the Padang Padang Surf Camp we were unsure what to expect in terms of accommodation.  Considered we were being driven around with a local surf guide, eating all our meals, and sleeping for just under $50 a day we didn’t expect much.  As we walked into the camp all we could do was laugh, this place was awesome, a walled in compound consisting of two large villas, some thatched roofed lounge areas complete with plenty of hammocks, and of course an infinity pool.  However the only thing that was missing were the people, the place was deserted, besides for a couple of staff members whom did not speak much English.  We sat around for about 10 minutes until our surf guide, whom quickly became our best friend, Putu showed up.  He explained to us that everyone was out surfing and asked if we wanted to go.  And that’s how it began, within that first hour, we had not only arrived at an amazing hotel but were on our way to the world famous surf break, Uluwatu.

            As we pulled up to the cliffs at Uluwatu, Putu was unimpressed saying that the surf was not good. We disagreed, the water was crystal clear, aqua blue, and head-high barreling waves were rolling in.  We quickly zigzagged our way down the cliff, weaving through the numerous warungs (small restaurants) and surf shops built into the cliffside. Then, we had to climb down a sketchy cement staircase, through a cave and paddle over a razor sharp reef in only a foot of water. The surf was amazing, it simply blew me away how perfect these waves were. They were unlike anything I had ever surfed before, and this was suppose to be a “not good” day.  Despite a minor run-in I had with a Brazilian surfer whom I was convinced was going to kill me (I am not going into details in fear he is still looking for me, if you really want to know I’ll tell you in person), we had a great surf session.  As we surfed until the sun went down I looked at Justin and he had a smile ear to ear, all he could say was, “Fictional, this place is fictional.”

            When we returned to the camp we met the Welsh owner, Andrew, his wife Ina, and the rest of the guests. From our first impressions everyone seemed pretty cool which would make the stay only that much better.  Ina explained to us how the place worked, which was pretty simple, you wake up when they tell you to (which was according to the tide), surf, eat your vegetables (yes I actually ate like a normal human for 2 weeks), surf again, eat dinner (and more vegetables), and then go to sleep.  The rules were simple, eat your veggies don’t slam any doors, and surf a minimum of 2 hours each day and of course you had to surf a minimum of 2 hours each day. Tough life.  After we got the run down, the whole camp was off to dinner like one big family to an appropriately name restaurant, Swell.  The restaurant had a huge projector screen that only showed surf movies, enough said.

            This set the tone for the next two weeks and is most of the reason we are so far behind in these blogs. They say Bali has a secret creed that only those who visit truly understand, it is never spoken about or told to you, figuring it out is up to you, but trust me once you’ve been there you will understand. Surf, Eat, Sleep. Learn it, do it, live it!  

It never rains, it only pours.

Soggy, is the only adjective appropriate to describe it. Maybe that’s why it has taken two weeks to come up with this post, or maybe its because Bali has been SO GOOD, we haven’t had the time. Anyway, if you took the expression its raining cats and dogs, and replaced cats and dogs with, blasting water to the face, you would have our first six days in Thailand. Couple that with flooding streets, overlay aggressive “Bar Girls,” and way to many made for TV movies, and our time in Thailand would almost seem drowned. Yet some how, some way, we still managed to have a pretty good time. 

            For many, mopeds is not the first thing that comes to mind for a solid form of transportation, but for Derek and me…. well they equaled 6 US dollars, an excellent time, and seemed the most fitting. Obviously this was the authentic way to explore the Thai island of Ko Samui. Additionally, each moped came with a safety helmet that resembled a bowling ball on your head.  So as if driving one of theses things was not hard enough, every time Derek or I looked at one another we cracked up. The constant laughing and moist conditions led to a swerve or two, but nothing serious. After about 4 hours and vicious back pains we managed to circle the entire island.  The pictures speak for themselves, but may have already considered us a hip version of the Motorcycle Diaries.

            Being that we had now seen the entire island of Ko Samui from the ground, we figured why not see it from the sky.  50 to a 100ft to be exact and zip lining was the only way to do it. I considered myself to be a seasoned veteran, because I had done this type of thing in Costa Rica 2 years before. What I did not factor and in fact over looked with arrogance was the fact that in Costa Rica, it was very dry, and in Thailand, it was very wet. This led to slippery cables, and me needing to maneuver an emergency stop, in turn breaking my sunglasses. I guess I deserved it.

            There were many positive attributes to the tree top tour. For one I got to see Derek’s face go pale before the first zip line, but more importantly it was our first interaction with the outside world in almost a week. As much as Derek and I enjoy each others company, we were relieved to find out that the tour was filled with 5 other “young adults,” who inspired us to deal with the rain and attend the island of Ko Phagnag’s world renown, Full Moon Party.

            It was 10 pm and the only thing in our way from attending one of the top 5 biggest parties in the world was an overly stuffed speed boat, and, mandatory neon life jackets required to be worn at all times. Yet despite the sketchiness of our captain, the loudness of the engines, and peculiar cast of characters that filled this boat we made it and the rage began. It was most definitely a spectacle I will never forget, or remember. 4000 people filling the beach, blasting music, flaming jump ropes, tattoo’s, mushroom shakes, body paint etc. What Derek and I choose to participate in we will leave to your imagination, but it was a great time, until the next morning.

            Overall Thailand was kind of a bust, minus the few good days on Ko Samui. We did also have 2 days in Bangkok but ironically, the princess died while we were there so the entire city shut down, wore black, and mourned.  If I could do it again I would not change a thing, except for the weather, and the death, but…..as they say in India, I guess it just was our destiny. 

“Derek, you realize that ‘essentially’, we’re vacationing in New York City, and just taking a day trip to see the White House? This is nuts!”

When we told people in Goa our next stop in India was Delhi we seemed to get a universal response, a frown, a negative headshake, and the question “why?” We got a feel for what they were talking about as we exited the domestic terminal and into the smog, noise, and most notably the “scent” of Delhi. Then in the taxi ride to our hotel, which was only about 5km, but, took a solid hour, of the grid-lock traffic, where we saw cars literally turn around and go the wrong direction on the highway, we knew exactly why no one liked Delhi. We decided that in the morning we would go to a travel agency and let them arrange how we would spend our next 48 hours in this metropolitan nightmare.
Most people think the main attraction in Delhi in the Taj Mahal; this is a common misconception. The Taj is actually in the city of Agra, which is 220km south of Delhi. Since all the trains to Agra were already booked well in advance we were disappointed to find out that we would not be able to see this impressive monument.
But….our plans quickly changed as we sat down in the tiny, generic “Interesting India” travel office. We initially went in to arrange a city tour of Old Delhi. When our agent discovered we had not seen the Taj, and were not planning on it because of the train situation, he insisted otherwise. Shortly after, we were in a private car, and on our way. Although it was not too far of a distance, (136 miles) it would take at least four hours to drive to Agra do to traffic, and poor road conditions. While we both found this crazy, the 4 hour 130 mile trip made Justin’s head spin. About an hour into the trip he looked at me and said “Derek, you realize that ‘essentially’, were vacationing in New York City, and just taking a day trip to see the White House? This is nuts!” He continued to repeat this line to just about everybody we came in contact with, but to a certain degree, it was absolutely true.
We started our drive around 12:30 and were informed by our travel agent that it was more then enough time to get to the Taj before it closed. About two hours into the drive we were a little confused when our driver started asking us about our hotel accommodations in Delhi, and if we would be opposed to staying a night in Agra. Turns out the Taj Mahal stops letting people in at 5, and because of traffic he was not sure if we were going to make it in time. Obviously we were not going to stay in Agra because we had already paid for an expensive hotel room in Delhi, and we were “guaranteed” that we would be able to see it. Justin quickly reminded him of the “guarantee” and plenty of time we were assured of in Delhi, and our driver, for fear of his job, instantly turned in to Jeff Gordon.
For the last 115km of our journey it was petal to the metal, honking constantly and weaving in and out of traffic unlike anyone I had ever seen before. Justin somehow managed to stay calm and relaxed in the front seat while I was in the back closing my eyes and flinching. To add to my anxiety our driver started making some small talk and telling us about recent bombings in Delhi. We though the area we were staying in was safe and were amazed to find out that only a month ago there was a bombing just a couple of hundred yards from the front door of our hotel, not something that made the stressful drive, a battle against time, go by any faster.
We made it to Agra at exactly 4:55 and were flagged down on the side of the road by our tour guide. There was no time for introductions because he said we had to run to the ticket gate. The only problem was because of pollution the government does not let any cars within 2km of the Taj Mahal gates, so this would be a far run, and although Justin and I are actually in decent shape, our hefty India tour guide was not. So we hopped on a bicycle rickshaw.
This was quite the sight, Justin and I squeezed on the 2 and half foot bench in the back, while our overweight guide sat backwards on the bike seat. Powering us was possibly the smallest bicycle rickshaw driver in the fleet, no older then 9 years and weighting about 70lbs. Sure enough he was able to get us moving, and quite well to. As we got to the gate our guide sprinted to the ticket counter still unsure if we were going to be able to enter. Justin and I could only wait for him to emerge and when he did with a smile on his face we were relieved, the crazy day of travel had paid off. We got in, and with exactly 2 minutes to spare.
The Taj Mahal was simply stunning; I think more impressive then the pyramids, Justin still undecided. Our guide knew all the facts and was extremely resourceful. When it came time to go inside, because he knew the guards, we were able to cut the enormous line and see the interior with some remaining daylight. This is just another example of an important principle we learned while in India that all Hindu people live by, if it is your destiny, it will happen. That day it was our destiny to see the Taj Mahal, now we just hope it is our destiny to get out of India in one piece.