Goodbye travel, for now.

And so we arrive at the end of my first stint of travelling. I have of course learnt fluent Hindi, begun to save the world and "found myself."
Except that I've done none of those things.
My knowledge of Hindi extends to Nameste and Hatcha (if they are even spelled correctly) and the ever useful head wobble...Kirsty will confirm my mastery of this spontaneous and brilliant movement..."Did you just wobble your head at me?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN? Stop it!!"
The world is far to big and messy for me to save in 3 months. I need at least 4.
As for finding myself, I'm not aware of ever losing myself. I still don't know what I'm doing, now or at any future point..but what is it that the Sunscreen Song says? "Some of the most interesting people I ever knew didn't know what they wanted to do with their lives at 40." Everyone knows that is the voice of wisdom. If only I'd heeded the always wear sunscreen part. Maybe I wouldn't have a peely nose now.
So what did I get out of this?
Well, I saw some amazing places. Quick Top 3:
Annapurna Trail
Khajuraho Temples
Sunrise on the Varanasi Ganges
Did some great things:
Motorbikes around the hills of Shimla
Houseboat on the Kerelan Backwaters
Camel ride in the Rajastan desert
Some not so great moments/character building episodes:
Attempt kidnap in Khajuraho by diamond smugglers
Being stalked in Ooty by a man who freely admits it "I' ve been following you for an hour...I fell over three times."
Being stuck at Patna.
Acquired some great catchphrases (including movement):
Bam! (pelvic thrust with sunbathing arms...2 bams each side)
Big Dal Bhat
Hello sir, Jeff? Kristy?
Ice cream?.....you look as if you like ice cream.
Small fat baby
(phonetically) connetichek! (Dutch for super crazy)
.....am I boring you with in jokes?
And met some awesome people. No top 3 here..you all deserve to be named :D So thanks to Jure (you are always number 1!), TomTom, Jiga, Phil and Roy (our biker boys), Drew, Ismail and Faran, David, Amrit (a wonderful guide) and Krishna (a machine)... and last but not least, Holland, card games cheaters and tellers of riddles, Tjerk and Hicham.
Boys, you all made our trip!
But not as much as one person who I not only love but would tolerate for at least 97 years of happy marriage: my travel wife. I'm already planning our next venture so start saving. And expect me to invite myself over a lot..I can't sleep alone anymore.
So I had the best time basically. Can't believe I'm returning to real life. You know I not only haven't had to work for months, I haven't even had to lift a finger..how do I make tea again? I'm back on Thursday though so pop the kettle on, will you?

What do you want from me?

There's something in the air at Khajuraho and it isn't sex...whatever the locals tell you about Shiva's penis in the lake, and therefore the increased prowess of everyone in the vicinity.
Apparently if you come to this little town single you are almost certain to have some kind of affair. If I wasn't fake married I'd be in trouble, huh?!
No, apart from the glorious temples with their medieval porn (beautifully crafted porn at that), the thing that strikes me most about Khajuraho is...unease.
You see, all over India so far, people are constantly wanting something. Photos I don't mind, even if it is a bit weird. Talking English with children I obviously don't mind- I know the value of language practice. Just plain curiosity is never a problem.
But then there is the constant symphony of:
"Excuse me Madam...you come see my shop....?...But you, but you are my friend. I give you good price...You want boat? Hashish? Banana? Pashmina...real silk."
Its exhausting. And so difficult making them accept no.
But in the cities you can just walk by and pretend not to hear. You can hide somewhere else for a breath and your own thoughts and company.
Here in Khajuraho its different. Everyone knows everyone else it seems and they all have different advice. The hotel says we shouldnt trust people on the street, they are just trying to sell us stuff. The people we meet on the street say not to trust the hotel as they mark up prices. And they all seem so helpful. And yet...
It now feels like the hotel are monopolising us. They didn't even let us escape for breakfast this morning.
As for our friends we've made around town, they seemed nice. They didn't even try to sell us anything and got us the secret cheap menu at a restaurant. But yesterday we met Uncle Babu: an impressively moustached diamond exporter who invited us to lunch, and to stay at his house in Delhi, and was not happy unless he was telling a moving story about his tragic love life, or his money. If he wasn't involved in a conversation he'd click his fingers until attention was back to him. He was funny but this all seems a bit Don-like. And we found out their angle... you know on a tourist visa you can carry £5000 of stuff out of the country..and if you want to earn some extra cash, just sell it back to the exporters.
Hmmmm....
So we're being sweetened up, but I ain't taking nothing home except the one silk scarf I couldn't say no to. Especially not for a man who hugs you unexpectedly for rather too long.
Shudder.
So now we gave to hide. But that's easy...the hotel won't let us leave anyway.