The long and winding road to Shimla

11-ish a.m.: We're on a bus, driving down an amazingly twisty mountain
road. The young man sitting across from us just pointed out his
university out the window - apparently the largest buildings in the
state, perched on a ridge with an commanding view. Folks are amazingly
friendly here, even to strangers. He's already asked our names so he
could friend us on facebook. Kwazy.

Yesterday, while at Humayan's Temple in Shimla (look it up on google;
it's cool), we met two young Indian men, one a soldier and the other a
banker, both on holiday. We'd been hesitating about entering the
temple as non-Hindi, but they said there was no harm in entering, so
we left our shoes on the cold paved walkway and followed them in to
the smoky little building.

OK; had to stop writing for a while as I was getting carsick because
the road was quite possibly the windiest I'd ever been on, and 120km
to boot. We're in our room in Chandigarh now, waiting for the
restaurant to open for dinner at 7 p.m., about 30 minutes from now.

Anyway, getting back to yesterday, those two guys offered to take us
up to Kufri, a little town about a dozen km north of Shimla, a bit
higher in altitude, and home to a wildlife preserve. I was somewhat
reluctant, but Laura accepted and we walked with them down from the
temple and another 1.5 km to the army base, where we got their car and
started driving.

As soon as he started the car, the stereo started blasting a live
version of Bryan Adams' "Cuts Like A Knife," and they didn't turn it
down, although they did shout back to key us know they loved loud
music and hoped we did, too. Turns out the banker dude was a hobbyist
rally driver, so off we went, speeding up the narrow, crowded
Himalayan road to the awful caterwauling of Bryan Adams. It was
appropriately surreal, and I'll post the video once we're home.

Stopping frequently for directions, sometimes in the middle of the
road such that the pedestrian helping had to shout over the din of
honking horns from the drivers stuck behind us, we eventually made it
to the preserve. Much like everything we've seen, it's simultaneously
awesome and decrepit. There were lots of barking deer, but they were
mangy and didn't bark. The bears were stuffed into a little cave-like
pen while two workmen tried to pull down a tree in the enclosure using
a rope tied to the top such that the tree just swayed around a lot; a
saw would have been more efficient, and it was apparent there were
saws available.

The wolves looked tired and sad. The bright spot was the snow leopard
- it looked healthy and active and was quite lovely to watch. There
were also several pens of local pheasants and other gamebirds, all
quite spectacularly plumed.

The drive down was done to the strains of an Enigma's Greatest Hits
CD, which seemed far better suited to the circumstances.

So, on to today, from where I left off on the bus, feeling a little
queasy. We got into the station at Chandigarh just fine, and my wife and
I had a brief grumpy exchange that apparently left us both with
expressions such that the touts left us mostly alone; I'm thinking of
picking a fight with her in the airport tomorrow to see if it's a
workable tout-avoidance option. It did take four auto-rickshaw drivers
to figure out where the hotel was, though - the facade is hidden
behind an enormously bushy palm tree.

Tonight's hotel is The Kaptain's Retreat, smack in the middle of a
strip mall. The hotel is owned by cricket star Kapil Dev, who has
surprisingly good taste in furnishings, as well as food - the hotel
restaurant dinner was dee-licious.

Before dinner, though, we took a cab to Chandigarh's Rock Garden,
built over time by a nutty artistic guy on what had been vacant land.
It's a cross between Gaudi's Parc Guell in Barcelona and South of The
Border on Route 95 in South Carolina. It's a maze, decorated with
stones, sculptures, and walls made of recycled porcelain, pottery,
crockery, and the like. There are small armies of figures made of
pottery shards, clay, and zillions of old bangle bracelets. We only
had an hour there as we arrived close to the dusk closing time, but it
was a very cool experience.

On the way back to the hotel, our driver got lost and we asked someone
in an adjacent auto-rickshaw for directions at a stoplight. They
thought about it for a bit, then the light changed and our driver
zoomed off. The guy behind us had his driver flag ours down, ran up,
asked if they could join us, then directed our driver to our hotel.
The guy was on his way to work, but still took the time to help.

Anyway, Le Corbusier is responsible for much of Chandigarh's city plan
and quite a few of it's buildings. Too bad we don't have time to check
them out, as we fly out to Udaipur first thing tomorrow, where we'll
settle for the next six days.

Time for lights out. There's a construction project along with what
sounds like a factory right outside our window, complete with loud
music and barking dogs. My wife is already sound asleep.