The Wheels on the Bus go bump bump bump

I spent my last hours in Delhi unsuccessfully searching for a new pair of designer knock-off sunglasses. I nearly bought one pair just out of curiosity because while the lenses bared the "Ray Ban" insignia, the sides read "Dolce and Gabbana." I didn't know it was possible.

My hotel in Delhi was in Pahar Ganj, a busy, dirty, touristy bazaar area where, as a single white female, I was subjected to the constant shouts of "Hello! Madam! My shop! Good Price! Rickshaw?! Hello? Yes Please? Madam, Madam!!" While this may have annoyed me once upon a time, I have now quite well perfected my "I can't see you, I can't hear you, Get out of my way, stone-cold bitch glare," which allows me to move through crowds undisturbed. I must remember to break myself of this habit before returning to the USA.

I left Delhi that afternoon on a bus to Dharamsala. One benefit of traveling alone is that I ended up with a row of seats all to myself so I was able to stretch out to sleep. This was really the only positive aspect of the journey. I was the only person on the bus sporting neither dreadlocks, nor tie-die, nor gauged earlobes, and though my hippy travel companions may well have been good, loving people, on their way to some grand Himalayan mystical adventure, they were at times annoyingly loud. Around one in the morning a group of them got into some kind of brawl in the front of the bus. Other passengers began demanding that one particular assailant be kicked off the bus, and though the bus drivers did not comply, they did decide to take a "shortcut" in order to end the troublesome journey sooner rather than later.

The "shortcut" was a windy, unpaved, bumpy bumpy road, which as it turns out, was actually closed to traffic. We then had to backtrack to the main road, so the "shortcut" of course, took longer than the original route.

For the most part, it was a bumpy, sleepless, nightmare of a bus ride, but the experience of driving into the Himalayas at sunrise made up for everything.

Dharamsala/ McLeod Ganj is one of the most beautiful places that I have ever seen and it is easy to understand why tourists, pilgrims, and Tibetan refugees alike happily flock here. Of course, the hotel that had promised me a room on the phone the previous evening acted like I was crazy when I showed up, so I walked 20 yards to the next hotel which is probably cheaper and cuter anyways.

I spent the day wandering the town, eating delicious food, and taking lots of amazing Himalaya photos. This is probably the most touristy place that I have visited in India so far, but it is touristy in the best sense of the word meaning there is a lot of see and do and there are tons of really amazing restaurants (although there was just a little too much cockroach in my Tibetan momo soup last night).

I have yet to spot the Dalai Lama or the Yeti, but I am keeping my eyes peeled for both.