DO NOT SPIT

Spitting.
I never thought this topic would be of any interest to me. But, here I am thinking about it. Where does the need to spit come from? Do the plants need watering? Do the roads look too dry? Is there a bad taste in your mouth? Are you just angry? Would I also spit constantly if I didn't think it was un-lady like and gross?

People spit in India. They spit freely, and with surprisingly accurate aim. They spit out the window of their cars, they spit at the bus stop, they spit on do not spit signs, I assume they spit in their homes, possibly in a designated spittoon, they spit next to each others feet, they spit and they spit and they spit as if it were a contest of who could spit the most over a life time.

Most of the spitting seems to happen while chewing paan. I have had paan. The non tobacco kind, and it is pretty nice. Sweet. And it keeps the mouth occupied, maybe preventing bad conversation. But to my surprise, I am not a spitter of paan, I am a swollower. I just could not bring myself to do it. I could not publicly spit. Because, I am a lady.

Sam on the other hand is not a lady. He freely spat his paan all over the place for my photographing pleasure.

What is paan made of? Find out here.

The prayer flags of Ladahk

The cool cool mountains

So, I finally caught up with my cool. It had traveled pretty far (about a 30 hour drive North from Delhi). But I think I have it back now. I often see it trying to sneak out the back door when it thinks I'm not looking, but I'm keeping a pretty tight leash on it.
I roped my brother Sam into coming with me on the 'cool quest'. He was an excellent choice, being pretty cool himself.

We flew up to Leh, Ladahk in the Himalayas. As the plane approaches, the landscape rises into peaks of snow, then the pilot magically navigates his was down to the airstrip, almost nicking the wings on the mountains. Hair raising.
Leh is nicknamed Little Tibet. It is mostly a Bhuddist community and is filled with prayer bells, prayer flags, monestaries and palaces. The goods for sale in Leh are a trans bunny's dream. All the clothes look like they came straight off a sunrise set.

We then drove to Pangong Lake.
When the temperature is 45 degrees in Delhi, there is snow on these massive, majestic, magical mountains. This place is breath taking (and not only because of the altitude). Every moment, the terrain changes and even though the air is thin, it is crisp and fresh.


We travelled over a pass which is 5360 meters above sea level and both promptly almost passed out. (Kilimanjaro is 5900 meters.) Walking to the toilet was like running a marathon.



Pangong Lake is certainly the most magnificent place I have seen. The water is bluer than blue.



We stayed over night in tents next to the lake. The gate made it look like a tent camp from hell, but it was pretty decent and the food was amazing. We even got to taste the local butter tea and home brewed beer with a local family. The beer was great, but one sip of the butter tea was enough to pile on 5 kilos and make me throw up.

The Himalayan Road signs

On the drive from Leh to Pangong Lake, I spent the full 4 hour trip hanging out the window with my camera, trying to capture the awesome road signs while we raced past them at sound barrier speeds.

I unfortunately missed 2 of my favourites:
Speed is the knife that cuts life.
I love you, but not so fast.