The Wonderfully Small World of Travel (and How Everything Relates)

The vast preponderance of my traveling, to places near and far, has been solo.

This has been by active choice only in the sense that I've never let the lack of a traveling companion impair my passion for exploring the world.

And while I would be happy to travel with someone of similar interests, outlook and temperament--and have done so on occasion--I'm likely more comfortable on my own than having to make compromises I wouldn't much like.

When traveling--and even in general--being alone doesn't usually make me feel acutely lonely. 

Certainly, on this trip, I've been able to communicate with those I typically do, via Facebook, texting, What'sApp and these blog posts.

And while knowing virtually no Spanish has lessened my ability to talk to fellow travelers and local Peruvians, I've chatted with some Americans and other English speakers I've encountered, including tour guides at Ollantaytambo and Machu Picchu, both of whom were terrific.

I returned to Machu Picchu again this morning hoping to catch the sunrise, but despite waking at 4:45am and getting out a half-hour later, the line for the first buses was far longer than I anticipated and I didn't reach Machu until almost 7am.

Though I did catch part of daybreak, I didn't see the sun rise or knowingly strike certain sections that it's said to specifically on June 21.

Without a guide, I just wandered to wherever I felt comfortable, though jagged stairs made coming down more daunting than wheezing my way up.

But the sights themselves were again astonishing and if it didn't provide much beyond yesterday--despite having already bought a ticket I considered not ascending again today--well, it was a twice in a lifetime experience.

I didn't cut short any quality time at MP, but after 2 hours I caught the 9am bus down intending to find somewhere to watch Peru play in the World Cup against France at 10am.

After unsuccessfully trying a couple restaurants that either didn't have a TV or weren't yet serving food, I wound up at La Boulangerie de Paris, a French patisserie in Aguas Calientes I had read about and was intending to visit anyway.

A gregarious man I presume to be the proprietor was wearing a double-sided Peru and France soccer jersey. He didn't speak English--I have assume he's a French expat--but warmly welcomed me and everyone else who dropped by.

Though some Peruvian boosters were also on hand, it was kind of cool to be watching Peru play France in likely one of the few places in the country where many were rooting against the home team. (France won.)

After doing some souvenir shopping on the hike uphill to the Taypikala Boutique Hotel--I like everything about it but the location--I watched Croatia beat Argentina, then took a nap.

On the plaza right next to my hotel I had noticed a little restaurant advertising that it had a pool table and whose decor included a Bob Marley poster.

I was the only patron of El Generalle--which doesn't seem to be listed even on Google let alone any tour books--but as it was run seemingly by just a single woman, I enjoyed the quaint ambience.

The woman's adorable daughter--neither spoke any English but I learned the girl was 5 and named Bala or something akin--brought me my menu, and came around to sweetly pester me throughout my meal.

Noticing my iPhone--I was using Google Translate as best I could--she had me take a selfie of us, and seemed to want to toy around with the phone, as kids often do. She kept talking to me in Spanish but I had no clue what she was saying.

I felt bad that I had no games on my phone to let Bala play, so I pulled up a Bugs Bunny cartoon on YouTube, which seem to mesmerize her. She even asked for another one, I think, and I obliged.

It was a nice moment, along with some Lomo Saltado--a traditional Peruvian meat dish--and some dessert.

Given that my Facebook news feed is filled with friends and media decrying Trump's inhumane border policy separating kids from their parents, I couldn't help think this is probably happening to precious children who look somewhat like Bala.

In various ways, today was another wonderful day--as much for the patisserie owner, Bala and her mom as for Machu Picchu--and while I feel quite fortunate, it made the heartbreaking news back home all the more so.

The Magnificent Machu Picchu

To call something "the greatest thing you've ever seen" seems to imply just one absolute singular sight.

So even in keeping such acclimation to the same idiom--i.e. not a Springsteen concert or Hamilton or the Cubs winning the World Series--you should only get one choice.

Fooey, I say.

Just within the vernacular of sights seen in traveling around the world, I've seen many astonishing things including the Pyramids of Giza, the Treasury at Petra, the Taj Mahal, the Sydney Opera House, the Sistine Chapel, the Eiffel Tower, Bryce Canyon and myriad more.

So is Machu Picchu the greatest thing I've ever seen?

Today, just hours removed from seeing it, yes it is. It was ever bit as breathtaking as I could've imagined.

If you can see the pictures I shared on Facebook, take a look. They're worth every word I will write here, and many more.

As for a paramount proclamation across time, place and different sorts of "sights," even within a travel realm, who knows, who cares?

Spectacular Scenery in Ollantaytambo Well-Worth a Spell

I've ventured to too many places around the world before going to Peru to be able to fairly call doing so a "lifelong dream."

But for the past decade or so, seeing Machu Picchu has been on my travel shortlist and my bucket list. And barring any train wrecks or other misfortunes, I should do so tomorrow afternoon.

I'm certain there are any number of other amazing sights and beguiling places in Peru, but in being able to budget a weeklong excursion, I planned on taking the typical route. 

Without being fit or hardy enough to consider hiking the Inca Trail, this meant flying into Lima, then flying to Cusco and taking a train to Aguas Calientes at the foot of Machu Picchu, with a 20-minute bus ride to the plateau at a ticketed time.

So my initial itinerary/routing did not include Ollantaytambo, a small town between Cusco and Aguas Calientes.

Although I hadn't read much about the historically Incan city with a fun name, my not intending to stop there was due far less to conscious aversion than an express desire to reach Machu Picchu, expressly. 

But in reading about issues some travelers have with altitude sickness, rather than start the trek with 2 days in Lima, 1 in the mountainous Cusco and then onto MP, I decided to give myself a second day at high altitude before reaching Machu Picchu.

This prompted me to read more about Ollantaytambo's impressive Incan ruins--and note that it has a train station en route to Machu Picchu--and decide to instead begin with 1 day in Lima, a flight to Cusco and rather than a second day there, a taxi or Uber to Ollantaytambo.

Given U.S. norms and costs regarding transportation via a personal driver, it may seem odd to take a cab or Uber for a 2 hour ride. (Ollantaytambo is 26 miles from Cusco, but via roads twisting through mountain terrain.)

Although I had booked an Uber, the driver asked if I could pay him "off-book" given commissions he'd be responsible for paying. This seemed odd, but we agreed on a price of 60 soles, approx. $18.

The ride featured some of the most beautiful scenery I've ever seen, with not only mountains but snow-capped mountains.

The driver did a nice job with terrain that would've scared me to death--it reminded me of beautiful yet treacherous mountain passes I used to drive near Los Angeles--and in getting me as close to the Intitambo Hotel as Ollantaytambo's narrow streets would allow, I happily gave him an extra $10.

The main thing to do in Ollantaytambo is climbing the ruins of an Incan fortress--to the Temple of the Sun--embedded in the side of a mountain.

This entails 200 steep and jagged stairs. Being old and fat--and not wanting to kill myself, literally or figuratively before Machu Picchu tomorrow--I was a bit wary about attempting this.

But I'm rather intrepid for the sake of good photographs and then figure I give it a go and get as far as I comfortably could.

An enterprising tour guide named Fernando wisely pounced on the old fat American guy there by himself, and while this essentially doubled my cost, I was actually quite glad I took him up (or more so he took me up, and then down, allowing me to pace myself and likely saving my life a dozen or so times).

I can't say I learned that much, but having survived not too worse for wear, it was a rather amazing experience.

Then, hanging out on Ollantaytambo's main plaza, having a croissant at the Choco Museo, wandering ancient streets back to my hotel and getting dinner nearby made for a really wonderful day.

Ollantaytambo is in the heart of what the Incans called the Sacred Valley, and the astonishing mountain scenery--and old ruins--make it rather majestic.

Even though I haven't been much rather by the altitude, I'm glad I got to see Ollantaytambo on my way to Machu Picchu.

Enchanted by Cusco

One of my favorite things about travel is the way it makes the whole world seem smaller.

I've found that visiting places around the globe clearly reveals that for all our wonderful cultural differences, we are quite similar in many of our essences. 

From Dallas to Delhi, Paris to, well, Peru, I haven't noted anything all that shockingly unique in terms of people, parents, children, food, art, gift shops and whatever else.

And I love how being in one place can trigger a recollection of an entirely different place, often on a quite personal level.

In walking around Cusco today--really only from the main square, Plaza de Armas, where my hotel is located, to Qorikancha, a mostly destroyed Incan temple on which a church and convent were built--I was reminded of being in Kraków.

Yes, the city in Poland.

I loved my visit to Krakow in 2013 and it's been on my mind lately because a friend will soon be going there. 

But between Cusco likewise having a vibrant main square--in which there were massive celebrations today for reasons I'm honestly too tired to research--a delightfully walkable center and colorful gelato displays, my mind made an ethereal connection, if only for a moment.

Technically I didn't do all that much in Cusco.

My flight from Lima and the taxi from the airport got to my hotel around noon. I took a bunch of photos of the festivities in the Plaza de Armas, took a catnap, did some strolling, had empanadas and gelato in a nicely non-descript shop, spent a couple hours at Qorikancha--it was quite impressive--and dinner at a friend-recommended place called Inkazuela.

I had one of their specialties, Alpaca Stew, which was a bit odd coming shortly after seeing and being photographed with an adorable alpaca.

Though it's not even 9:00pm, I think it's time to call it a night.

Hola Lima

I'm sure this isn't quite true, but it seems that no leisure traveler who ventures to Peru primarily dreams of seeing Lima nor likely winds up finding it the favorite part of their trip.

In this way, the massive city feels akin to Dublin, Rome, Madrid and Delhi, capital cities rich in history and tourist attractions, but a bit too large and cosmopolitan to seem truly exotic or as beguiling as other locales within their countries.

Still, although Lima dates to 1535--as it was founded after Peru became a Spanish colony--and therefore isn't quite as old as many other cities in its country or Europe, Asia, etc., for those of us from the United States, any chance to see stately edifices from the 16th, 17th and 18th centuries is pretty cool.

Somewhat similarly, seeing ornate churches probably isn't as spiritual or emotional an experience for me as it likely is for others--I'm Jewish, largely agnostic and dubious of grandiloquent cathedrals amid considerable squalor, past and present--but simply in terms of beauty, I saw some splendid ones today. (Interesting, I'm reading Dan Brown's Origin novel, which so far includes repudiation of organized religion as a major theme.)

Lima's primary Cathedral sits on the Plaza de Armas--the city's grand main square--along with the Presidential Palace and other stately buildings.

I went there this morning, as part of a City Tour of Lima, booked through Viator.com and run by Viajes Pacifico. The host was friendly and informative, and this proved a fine introductory excursion.

We also saw (but didn't tour) Huaca Pucllana, an adobe and clay pyramid within Lima dating to the first few centuries AD (long before the current city was established) and spent a little time in the Museo de Arte de Lima.

Also in the Centro area near the Plaza de Armas--where a large TV showing the World Cup reminded of a different kind of Peruvian religion--the Convent of Santa Domingo was really beautiful (so much so that I nearly lost the group taking pictures).

Not on the tour but a reason for me to remain in Centro was the Monastery of San Francisco, with a magnificent church and a guided tour including the catacombs, full of once buried skulls and bones.

After a return to my Ibis Larco hotel in the Miraflores part of Lima and a little nap, I've walked 2 blocks to Larcomar, a shopping mall embedded in a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. It's pretty cool, and has a nifty art exhibit featuring a Liman artist named Fito Espinosa.

I have dinner reservations at La Rosa Nautica, a noted restaurant sitting on a pier that juts out into the ocean. The seafood is said to nearly equal the view.

Will head there in a few and likely not recap again tonight. Tomorrow I fly to Cusco, first step in closing in on Machu Picchu.

I'll be back in Lima at week's end, and while I feel I've seen the main sights, I'll be staying in a different hotel that should provide a new perspective if nothing else.

Plus I have reservations at two of the top-rated restaurants in South America.

Based on my one day in Lima, I would say that in terms of sightseeing, photographic splendor and overall vibe, it isn't the equal of Buenos Aires, Rio de Janeiro and Mexico City, the Latin metropolises I've been to before.

But much as I truly enjoyed my time in the gateway cities mentioned at top, I've been delighted to get to know Lima a bit.

---

On the Plaza de Armas, a college student asked if she could interview me about travel. The talk proved a fun reminder of how many amazing places I've been fortunate to visit. 

Bangalore: Not Quite Sights Galore but Enjoyable Nonetheless

My reasons for being in Bangalore right now have almost nothing to do with specific sightseeing attractions I wanted to explore.

As I discussed in some detail a couple posts ago, I have a couple friends who live in the southern India city of 8.5 million people, who I met when we lived in Los Angeles in 1990.

Both Yashu and Harish grew up elsewhere in India and have friends & family in various Indian locales, but whatever their variety of rationales for settling in Bangalore, it seems like a good choice from my much more limited purview.

Evidenced by the 2-hour traffic jam we were caught in this afternoon, the vast metropolis can be quite congested and chaotic. And as elsewhere in India, dogs, cows and other animals roam the streets freely.

But compared to Delhi, Mumbai, Jaipur and Agra, Bangalore feels considerably more modern, organized and clean. (Even the more homespun shopping strips are fully paved here, unlike the prevalent mud and dirt elsewhere.)

Known as the Silicon Valley of India, the country's third largest city has grown by more than 500% since 1971, with population doubling just within the 21st century.

So while there are several new high rise complexes--such as the one in which Yashu and Harish reside--some of the surrounding infrastructure lags. (We tried to order from Pizza Hut last night but they wouldn't deliver to here.)

And while there is considerable history to be explored and attractive temples throughout the city, from a sightseeing and photographic perspective, Bengalore (aka Bengaluru) lags behind the other cities I visited.

This isn't a complaint, as sightseeing here wasn't my reason for tacking 5 days onto my trip, and seeing--and just hanging out with--my friends has been wonderful.

I've also been beset with a minor ear infection, something of a cold and some muscle soreness, so I'm happy to take it a bit easier.

And it's not like I haven't seen some amazing sights.

Thursday Yashu and I went to the vast ISKCON (Hari Krishna) temple, yesterday was a private driver tour to Mysore and today another driver took Yashu, Harish and me around Bangalore.

At some sites I was happy just to snap a few photos--such as of the Vidhana Soudha government building--but we toured the Bangalore Palace, Tipu Sultan's Summer Palace, strolled the Lalbagh botanic garden and quickly visited a few temples.

So my camera--and legs--still got a decent workout. Pix are up on Facebook for those who have access.

No big plans for tomorrow, my last in Bangalore...and India.

But especially if it helps me rest up and feel better before a 3-hour flight followed by a nearly 15-hour one, I think that will suit me quite fine.

Sometimes on vacation one needn't run around all the time, snapping the shutter like a madman.

Heck, some actually champion the idea of rest and relaxation.

Mysore: My Sore Ear, My Sore Caves, but My What Beauty

I traditionally exert myself more on vacation than I do at home.

And I rarely make it through a trip without at least some soreness and weariness, if not outright illness.

But though I can readily identify with a tourmate earlier on this trip referring to India as a country that will "chew you up and spit you out," I have largely felt pretty good throughout the past fortnight.

Sure, there were times my stomach begged me not to overtax my tolerance for Indian curry, days when I was glad I packed Immodium and some moments of travel fatigue or even exhaustion, but--knock on wood--I haven't been truly sick or injured or inconvenienced.

In flying to Bangalore from Mumbai I developed what I perceived as an infection in my right ear. Fortunately my primary care physician had prescribed a travel dosage of "just in case of whatever" antibiotics and though his team fumbled the online communication process while he too is away, a friend with a doctor in the family was able to corroborate my sense that 5 days of Levoflaxocin should remedy the ear pain. (It seems to be, though not completely.)

I felt good enough to carry through with my Friday plan to have a private driver recommended by Yashu take me from Bangalore to Mysore (traditionally: Mysuru) and take me around to various sights.

Though it was a 3-hour drive departing at 7:00am, and I was glad not to have eaten a heavy breakfast, the ride with Rakash went smoothly (though he, like everyone in India, honks way too much for my tolerance).

But almost as soon as I got out of the car at the Tipu Sultan's Summer Palace--about 15km from Mysore--I started to feel sharp pain in both my calves.

I'm writing this nearly 9 hours later on the ride back to Bangalore so I think it's just muscle stiffness/soreness and not blood clots. 

And--in part because Rakash doesn't speak English well enough to discuss possible alternatives--I pushed through the full day of sightseeing, albeit with a bit of a grimace.

Rakash seems like a fine man and good driver, but not gregarious or fluent enough in my only language to make for much of an enjoyably conversant or enlightening drive.

But I'll happily settle for not being stranded anywhere.

And the sights--most notably the Mysore Palace, where an on-site guide proved rather amiable and informative--were phenomenal.

The Palace is the most popular tourist attraction in India, more so than the Taj Mahal.

It was about the 12th site on this trip where custom required me to walk around barefoot or in socks--perhaps not ideal for health concerns--but hell, you only live once.

I also entered the Chamundi Temple, way up in the hills, saw some Indian art in the Jaganmohan Palace, went to a large Catholic church (St. Philomena's) and enjoyed visiting a sand sculpture museum.

I had a good lunch of crispy fried lamb, got some sweets at a notable shop in Mysore and photographed & strolled--gingerly--the Lalitha Mahal Palace, which is now a posh hotel.

So it's been a bit of a struggle but worthwhile nonetheless. Truth is, I'll do almost anything for good photographs.

As I write this as Rakash approaches Bangalore, I'm glad to have some Springsteen to blot out all the honking (earbuds perhaps aren't ideal, but I can only try to solve one problem at a time).

And I can't wait to get back to Yashu's place to apply some Aspercreme to my aching calves.

Perhaps I'll take it a bit easier tomorrow.

Or not.

Bangalore: Yashu and Harish

In March 1990, I was 21 and had moved from Skokie to Los Angeles' San Fernando Valley just a couple weeks prior.

Other than a cousin who had kindly picked me up from LAX airport but lived about an hour from the apartment I rented in Encino, I knew nobody else in California.

My best pal Jordan and his then-girlfriend, now-wife Erin drove out a car I had bought from another friend--an '81 Chevy Malibu--and due to having worked as a bank teller for 6 months in Evanston I was able to land the same job at Union Bank on Ventura Blvd. in Encino.

We had an interesting mix of employees, with both transplants and native Los Angelenos. I was friendly with several, a couple of with whom I still remain in touch.

One of the other tellers was an East Indian woman named Yashu, who commuted about 15 minutes by bus from Northridge, where she lived with her husband Harish.

They had no kids and were likely old enough to be my parents. Yashu was, and is, much more a friend than a surrogate mother, but we developed a relationship based on me occasionally giving her a ride home from the bank and in return I would enjoy a home cooked dinner with her and Harish.

If this wasn't the first time I had Indian food, it was certainly the first I ate it with any regularity--and homemade to boot.

I don't think it's much of a stretch to trace my fondness for Indian food and a desire to one day visit India to Yashu's cooking and her & Harish's friendship.

Though Yashu and I both left Union Bank within a year, we maintained our friendship--and dinners--until I left LA for a return to Skokie at the end of 1992.

Whenever I would travel back to LA--in 1996, '99, '01 (on my way to Australia), '03, '05--Yashu and Harish would always provide a convenient place to stay and warm hospitality.

In 2003, Yashu came to Chicago and enjoyed dinner on Devon Avenue with me, my mom and sister Allison. Work precluded me from spending much time with her, but Allison accompanied Yashu to the Art Institute and a performance of the musical Chicago.

I haven't had occasion to return to California, but knew that Yashu & Harish planned to retire to India, which they did in 2013.

They settled in Bangalore and my dreams of seeing India always included meeting up with them again.

I am writing this from Bangalore, 5 feet away from Yashu, with Harish in the other room.

They both seem to be doing and well and appear to be as happy hosting me as I am again to be in their company.

In flying to Bangalore from Mumbai, I developed some ear soreness, with the right ear remaining clogged until I slept.

A bit of medication seems to be helping, and it couldn't have happened at a more opportunistic part of me trip.

I know Yashu and Harish will take good care of me.

As they always have.

Mumbai: Taj Mahal Palace Hotel, Elephanta Caves and a Walk Through Colaba

I've traveled far and wide, and have availed myself of a wide array of lodging at many different levels.

My days of shared rooms in youth hostels are long past and I don't frequent bed & breakfasts, but I'm usually content with motels & hotels that best combine acceptable quality and desirable location at the lowest price.

Given that a decent bed, clean toilet and working shower are all I really require, on road trips Motel 6 has long been my brand of choice. I've probably stayed in well more than 50 M6 locations and rarely have been displeased.

When I went to Kansas City in April by train, I stayed in a Motel 6 even though it required cabbing & Ubering to & from city sights. This was still cheaper than staying in a downtown hotel.

But often when going to cities where I won't be driving, I try to find a reasonably priced hotel--ideally less than $160/night, pre-tax--that allows easy access to the sights I want to see. (Booking.com has proven quite beneficial in this regard.)

I've found some rather stellar hotels at relative bargains--the Hyatt Regency near the Capitol in Washington, DC comes to mind--but was rather shocked that I could book a night at Mumbai's venerated Taj Mahal Palace Hotel for $163/night with no prepayment (via Booking.com).

As my Delhi/Jaipur/Agra tour package included 7 hotel nights for less than $50 per--assuming the bus rides, tour guide, admission fees and several provided meals comprise about half the total cost--I decided to treat myself for a night in Mumbai.

It worked out phenomenally well.

To begin with, I think it was the nicest hotel I've stayed in, by far. In Manhattan, a room like mine at the Palace probably fetch a grand, easy.

Though I had booked the cheapest room type--in the newer tower, not facing the water (an inlet of the Arabian Sea, I believe )--upon check-in I was provided a free upgrade to an "Ocean View" room in the Palace Wing dating to 1923.

If I had chosen such a room through Booking.com, it would have cost twice as much.

My room was beautifully appointed and I was taken to it by a lovely hotel hostess--Deepika--who I asked to join me for dinner. She seemed to politely consider it (perhaps that's part of her job) but despite saying she'd check her schedule, seemingly ran for the hills.

In addition to overlooking the water, my room looked out upon the Gateway of India monument, which at night was adorned by colored lights as part of an India 70th Independence Day celebration.

My seat at dinner in the Sea Lounge had a similar perspective and the food--a special prix fixe menu for the holiday--was fantastic.

I also enjoyed the restaurant's pianist, singer and sax player playing mostly American music, such as "Summertime," "Blue Moon" and "Come Away with Me," the last by Norah Jones, who happens to be Ravi Shankar's daughter.

I didn't avail myself of the pool or spa, but took a tour of the hotel, had a soda in the Palace Lounge and enjoyed warm hospitality at every turn.

And the hotel was ideally situated for what I wanted to do, especially with only about 8 total hours of touring time. My flight out to Bangalore Wednesday was moved from 8pm to 4:45p, so I basically had Tuesday afternoon and Wednesday morning.

Almost as soon as I'd gotten into my room, I was heading out to the Gateway of India to buy a ferry ticket to Elephanta Island, home of caves with carvings dating back 1500 years or so. 

Buying the ticket and queueing up for the ferry was a bit chaotic, the boat ride took an hour and once on the island, it required about an hour walk and a grueling (for me) 130 steps in stifling humidity. I was quite happy not to have a heart attack.

But the caves themselves were, rather amazingly, worth the effort. That such artwork could have been carved out of mountainous rock somewhere between the 5th & 8th century AD is rather staggering to consider.

This trip has had a number of once in a lifetime sights, but the Elephanta Caves were definitely one of them.

This excursion was followed by hotel tour and then dinner, so I was glad to put my plush bed to use rather early.

Wednesday morning was devoted to a walk around the Colaba area of South Mumbai, close to the hotel.

I saw the Knesset Eliyahoo synagogue and even went inside, a splendid clock tower, the Bombay High Court and several other grand buildings likely dating back to the days of British rule in India.

The grandest of these is the Chhatrapati Shivagi Terminus, a railway station formerly known as Victoria Terminus and one of the world's busiest.

As I had on the ride from the airport, in the cab back I made a point of taking pictures out the world and getting a better sense of the Mumbai I did not see up close, including abundant skyscrapers and slums.

Agra: The Transfixing Wonder of the Taj Mahal...and Other Amazing Sights

I've been fortunate to have visited some of the world's most amazing sights--of the man-made and natural variety.

Some of my favorites prior to this trip to India can be seen on this Seth Saith blog post (sorry that I don't have means to throw in a contextual hyperlink):

http://sethsaith.blogspot.in/2017/08/ours-go-to-11-volume-24-unforgettable.html?m=1

Yesterday and again today I saw a sight that would undoubtedly find a place in such a list, perhaps even in the top slot:

The Taj Mahal

I can't recall how early in my childhood I first became aware of the spectacular marble mausoleum in the Indian city of Agra, but my hope to someday see--and photograph--it obviously dates back decades.

And in person, the Taj Mahal was everything I ever dreamed it would be.

Although the inside--where photography is prohibited--was rather dark, quite warm and not nearly as mind-blowing as the exterior, the Taj was truly magnificent from all angles.

Since March, when--as I was about to book my trip to India--I learned that in 2017 the Taj Mahal is undergoing cleaning that had parts sheathed in scaffolding, I was concerned that I might not see it in pristine form.

I decided this wasn't worth postoning my trip indefinitely, but just a couple weeks ago, NBA star Kevin Durant had tweeted pictures of him at the Taj that showed the structure's front and one minaret scaffolded.

This didn't look to terrible, but I was thrilled to arrive at the Taj Mahal with my tour group Sunday morning to find no metal upon it anywhere.

Needless to say, I took TONS of pictures from every angle, and even had a few taken of me with one of the world's greatest backdrops.

I don't have means to share any in this post, but hopefully you'll be able to see some somehow. (I put several on Facebook and plan to create an online gallery after I return home.)

This morning, with a few hours in Agra outside organized tour activities, I asked the hotel to hire me a driver to take me to Mehtab Bagh, a prime viewing spot--with an admission fee--from which to see & photograph the Taj from across the Yamuna River.

Between a friendly driver and a quite knowledgeable local man whose solicitation to show me prime locations within the Mehtab Bagh garden I accepted and greatly benefited, this too was a phenomenal excursion.

And the Taj Mahal isn't the only wonder to be seen in Agra.

The Tomb of I'timād-ud-Daulah--aka the Baby Taj and built before it--and the Red Fort are both stunning in their own right.

Though seeing both yesterday afternoon made for a wearying day--we were up at 4:30am to see the Taj at sunrise--but were magnificent.

A group dinner last night at an Agra restaurant featuring an attractive Bollywood style dancer made for a nice end to a pretty staggering day.

After my private riverside Taj experience this morning, we rode from Agra to a hotel near the Delhi airport.

I am writing this lying next to a beautiful outdoor pool, with a final group dinner about an hour away.

In the morning I will catch a flight to Mumbai and head to the luxurious Taj Mahal Palace Hotel, where I'm booked for a single night before heading on to Bangalore.

Unbeknownst to me beforehand tomorrow is India Independence Day, and the 70th anniversary at that. And Paolo, who went to Mumbai for a couple days before the tour started, reported that that city is just as chaotic as Delhi.

So perhaps I won't be able to do all that much, but I'm excited to go there anyway.

Though this trip has been terrific for many sights, experiences and interactions, seeing the Taj Mahal is clearly an experience I'll never forget.

Abhaneri: Some Surprisingly Astonishing Travel Experiences

Sometimes the greatest travel experiences are ones that come as a surprise.

On Gate 1's 9-Day Golden Triangle of India tour from Delhi to Jaipur to Agra, a stop in the village of Abhaneri--between the latter two cities--was only highlighted in the Day 6 itinerary details.

I think it's safe to assume it didn't much factor into anyone's reasons for taking this tour; certainly not a primary one.

As I am writing this, we are back on the bus heading from Abhaneri to Agra, and if not tonight, by early tomorrow morning I shall see the Taj Mahal.

More than any other specific sightseeing location, the Taj is the foremost reason for my traveling to India.

But as some may recall, in the days before booking my trip, I learned that the Taj Mahal is undergoing cleaning and conservation, and part of it will be covered by scaffolding.

I initially expected more of Taj--including its dome--to be obscured than it appears will be the case, but I truly wondered if I should postpone the trip until pristine pictures of this great wonder could be had.

I decided that aside from complete closure of the Taj, any other worst case scenario didn't justify delaying the trip to who knows when.

Much of my reasoning is that it would be silly to put off two weeks of phenomenal sights and experiences for a couple hours of seeing some metal, even if upon the sublime Taj Mahal.

And while seeing Delhi and highlights of Jaipur were fantastic, the past 3-1/2 hours alone have validated my thinking.

There could be thunderstorms tomorrow and I still won't rue having taken this trip.

And though the Chand Baori step well in Abhaneri is one of the coolest sights I've ever seen, remnants of a nearby temple date back a millennium and our tour group just had a delicious and unique lunch at an eco-resort in Abhaneri, even more phenomenal was seeing the smiles of relatively impoverished village schoolchildren.

The school is actually underwritten by Gate 1, whose founder grew up nearby,  so it's assumed the kids were long indoctrinated to American tourists stopping by and photographing them.

But I really loved interacting with the kids, and I can't help but believe the feeling was mutual.

Using a trick I hit on years back, likely in photographing my niece and nephews, whenever I would take pictures of the kids I would then show them the photo on the screen or my camera or iPhone.

This made them giggle exuberantly and clamor for me to take more pictures. Several kids also asked me--and other group members as well--to write my name in their notebooks.

At one point it felt like I was a Broadway star being being beseeched for autographs at the Stage Door.

Truly heartwarming.

I can't wait to see the Taj Mahal, and take photos I will likely treasure for the rest of my life.

But quite remarkably I doubt they'll wind up my favorites from this trip.

Jaipur: On an Elephant (and a Rickshaw), Atop a Mountain Fort and in the Pink (City)

Those who perceive a vacation as a chance to sleep in (past 6:30am) and relax a bit each day might find themselves chagrined by the trip I'm on, at least as facilitated by Gate 1 Travel.

Don't get me wrong. My typical idea of a great vacay is one in which I visit three museums in a day followed by a concert, ballgame or some form of theater at night.

I don't go on beach vacations or to resorts in part because I don't enjoy laying out or just sitting around.

So I certainly don't mind a whirlwind of activity and I respect Gate 1's efforts to fit in a lot of sightseeing in a limited number of days in order to keep lodging costs low--and the entire tour package surprisingly reasonable.

Our tour leader Sameer has been terrific in coordinating daily agendas, so I am not seriously kvetching, but even though Thursday was essentially dedicated to the bus ride from Delhi to Jaipur, we had a 6:00am wakeup call ahead of a 7:30 departure (sandwiched around complimentary breakfast). 

Our ride was broken up by a potty break at McDonalds--always interesting in terms of global variances; i.e. no beef in India--and lunch at a homey place midway to Jaipur.

After we got to Jaipur and checked in, 40 minutes later we were back on the bus to hit a local bazaar.

I don't mean to be disparaging to people having to make money any way they can, but the vendors swarmed like bumblebees, and though not dangerous,  their aggressiveness was aggravating.

Paolo and I bought merchandise mainly from a shop where an older, calmer gentleman didn't haggle and was never insistent. 

Depending on the exact environs being counted, Jaipur is a city of 3-5 million people.

To Westerners, it still seems rather ramshackle and chaotic--with cows, camels, elephants, monkeys, goats, sheep, dogs--wandering the streets amid cars, trucks, motorcycles, rickshaws, bicycles and tourist coaches.

But compared to Delhi, Jaipur seemed relatively organized, modern and calm.

And Friday was rather stuffed--yes, perhaps overstuffed--with superb and unique travel experiences.

Including, before 8:30am, riding an elephant up to the huge Amber Fort.

From a horde of elephants lined up like taxis at the airport, ours was named Mala. And he (or perhaps she) got us where we needed to go.

With a huge complex of building ornately painted or otherwise lavishly adorned, Amber Fort made for some incredible sightseeing and snapshots.

Later we took a rickshaw ride around the part of Jaipur with structures whose pigmentation gave rise to its Pink City moniker.

Especially as the bike peddler charged with lugging Paolo and me around continuously avoided impending collisions, the Hawa Mahal didn't seem quite as luminous as it had in photos.

The afternoon touring continued at Jantar Mantar--a centuries old collection of huge astronomy/astrology apparatus--and ended with a visit to the City Palace complex, which had some attractive buildings without being all that astonishing.

We did get 2 hours of downtime back at our hotel but then were back on the bus for a group dinner excursion. 

This was at a restaurant within an ornate hotel in a posh part of Jaipur, it was a cool choice, it was fun hanging out with our tour mates and we were treated to a woman dancing while balancing 5 bowls on her head.

But a glass of wine made me even more tired and tour weary than I already was, and I felt it best not to indulge too heavily  in the Indian buffet.

That basically covers the last two days. It could probably use some editing or even more writing but it's nearly 11 and of course I have to be up at 6 AM for the ride to Agra.

A Chaotic Couple of Days in Delhi

Namaste.

I've visited many of the most populated--and consequentially congested and chaotic--cities in the world:

New York, Los Angeles, London, Paris, Rome, Madrid, Sydney, Rio de Janeiro, Buenos Aires, Mexico City, Cairo, Jerusalem, St. Petersburg (Russia), Vienna, Budapest, etc.

But never before have I opted for an air conditioned tour bus as my means of sightseeing.

In Delhi, I'm quite glad to have done so.

I've never been to a city where the streets were more immensely clogged with cars--and tons of tuk-tuks (mini electric vehicles)--and the driving, at least to a foreigner, so completely insane.

After arriving at my hotel on Tuesday afternoon--and the cab ride from the airport was quite an adventure, as I'll explain shortly--just trying to take a brief walk to get my bearings was rather daunting.

It was stifling hot with crazy humidity. I couldn't take a step without a street hustler showing up alongside to chat me up. There were dogs lying on sidewalks. The incessant honking of car horns made midtown Manhattan seem like a library. Red lights were apparently mere suggestions and with cars, cabs, tuk-tuks, motorcycles and bicycles all constantly jockeying for position, merely crossing the street--even at a crosswalk--seemed like a game of Frogger I best not play.

Coming after a 15-hour flight on which I didn't sleep nearly enough, a leisurely stroll held considerable theoretical appeal, But it quickly seemed best not to bother with. (I returned to my hotel and had dinner there.)

And this came after a somewhat harrowing, rather exasperating experience on the cab ride from the airport.

I really don't know if the driver was duplicitous, incompetent and/or worse. As recommended, I had prepaid for a taxi at an airport counter and went where I was instructed. But I'm pretty sure the guy who took me was bootleg as he instantly asked me for more money (under the ruse of my only having paid a "parking fee," which is BS).

I told him no, and eventually yelled at him to "just drive the damn car!" He soon stopped to pick up somebody who was said to be his brother.

The brother actually seemed like a better guy than the driver, but between the two of them they couldn't find my hotel--The Park--although I'd given the driver a Google Maps printout. And I'm not sure if I should be impressed or incensed that the driver narrowly missed about a dozen accidents, without a seat belt available for me.

Fortunately, they didn't seem to be taking me to a nefarious lair in the middle of nowhere, but once in the vicinity of the hotel they wouldn't turn where the Maps app locator seemed to suggest they should. 

They took me to a nearby--but steadily further away--shopping area (Connaught Place) under the guise of stopping at a tourist information center for instructions. The brother wanted me to get out of the car with him and I said hell no, not without my suitcases. 

And I then did get out of the car with my suitcases and essentially said, "See ya."

I knew where my hotel should be and was just gonna walk there. I started to do so but then was convinced that a tuk-tuk driver could get me there, which he did.

Though I was dead tired by the time my friend Paolo reached the hotel (he had visited Mumbai first), the time zone difference didn't allow me to fall asleep quickly or much of the night.

So today, Wednesday, I was glad to be reliant on an air conditioned coach with a knowledgeable tour leader named Sameer and nearly 40 tour companions.

Even at 8:30 AM when we started our journey around Delhi, the heat and humidity were rather sauna like.

Though Sameer pointed out several sights, such as the India Gate and Indian Parliament Building, from the bus--not ideal for photography but I can't really complain given the relative comfort amid the heat, a big of brief but heavy rain and the ceaseless mind-boggling traffic crunch--we had five main stops:

- Humayun's Tomb

- Jama Masjid mosque

- Lunch at an Indian restaurant within the Hotel Broadway (adorned with American thester posters)

- Gandhi Smitri - A residence where Mahatma spent the last few months before being shot and killed on the premises

- Gurdwara Bangla Sahib - Sikh temple

All of these rather impressive; I've become too tired to go into detail but you should be able to Wikipedia them. I put a few pix on Facebook.

And though I don't perceive making any lifelong friends, the tour seems filled with nice people. An end-of-day briefing by Sameer included some enjoyable interaction.

Others, including a man from Mexico City, echoed my perception that Delhi seemed more intimidating that other huge cities.

Obviously it's less Western than anywhere I've ever been--literally, excepting Australia--part of the appeal is that it doesn't feel American or European.

Other than the cab driver duo and a few pushy hustlers, I have high regard for people living with dignity in such a chaotic, relatively impoverished place.

If there are sections of Delhi with glass office buildings, stately old museums/theaters or vast tranquil parks, I have not seen them.

So I'm really not sure if a more gentrified, user-friendly Delhi exists (I haven't seen a Starbucks). But without meaning to disparage anyone or suggest that I'm not thrilled to be here, I can't deny the city has seemed more daunting than acutely delectable.

Onto Jaipur in the morning. Another reason I'm glad to have taken a tour.

Mexico City, Day 4: Frida Be You and Me

Today I spent a good deal of money to enjoy the company of a young Mexican woman for several hours.

And she showed me things I wouldn't have seen otherwise.

Sure, if I tried I probably could've gotten to the Frida Kahlo Museum--a.k.a. La Casa Azul, where she was born, grew up, lived many years with Diego Rivera and died--via the subway and walking a good ways in unfamiliar territory.

And I certainly could've taken a cab from the hotel to the museum in Coyoacan, about a half hour south, and most likely found one that would've got me back without incident.

I also could have asked the hotel to arrange for a cabbie to take me to the museum, wait for me, perhaps show me around a few other places and bring me back.

Actually this is what I did, but paid a premium in requesting an English-speaking driver who might tell me about what I was seeing.

The cost still wound up being something I could readily live with, and similar to private driver/custom tour guide experiences I've had in San Francisco and Rio de Janeiro, being able to talk to someone who really knew the city added a great deal to my overall experience.

I didn't ask for nor was expecting a woman, but my driver turned out to be a nice young Mexican City native named Norma, who normally drives small bus tours around the central area for an outfit I believe is called Brisa Tours.

So beyond rote "look over there" conversation, she was able to help me better understand Frida Kahlo, Diego Rivera, Leon Trotsky, the history of Mexico City and Coyoacan, while also showing me a church, park and vibrant public squares that I really enjoyed seeing for the sense I was seeing locals, not tourists.

As I discussed with Norma, my perception is that in the United States, Frida is probably more famous, certainly more iconic and likely more artistically revered than Diego.

Norma, who has never been to the U.S., concurred that that is likely the case, but conveyed that in Mexico, both during the artists' lifetimes and now, Frida is seen for having gotten famous because she was Diego's wife, and that Rivera is considered the far greater painter, but in subject matter and output.

I am fascinated enough by Frida's legacy to be enthralled by seeing her longtime home, including the rooms in which she was born, painted and died. And though there were several paintings by her, nothing was as famous as "The Two Fridas," which I saw at the Museum of Modern Art here.

I like Kahlo's paintings, but not only was Rivera's art much more dominant in terms of what I saw in Mexico City, but even at the Frida Kahlo Museum, in terms of hanging works I think my favorites were examples of Rivero's Cubism period.

It's easy to forget that Diego was hanging out in Montmarte with Picasso, Modigliani, etc. long before he met Frida.

I'm not saying my driver/guide convinced me that Frida Kahlo is overrated--nor even tried to--but I can see in terms of artistic legacies that Diego Rivera probably outranks her.

Further illustration of that was provided at the Palacio de Bellas Artes--Norma and I parted ways there--where two massive Rivera murals hang, including one that he re-created after having it commission and then decommissioned for New York's Rockefeller Center. 

The beautiful building also has multiple murals by Siqueiros, Tamayo and other notables. 

After a nice stroll through Alameda Park and an early dinner at a homey place called El Torreo, I went to the Diego Rivera Mural Museum.

This holds just one of his murals, albeit a huge and great one, and unbeknownst to me before I arrived, I got to hear a highly enjoyable concert by a Latin jazz(ish) band called El Kato Club.

They played right in front of the mural and it was a treat to be able to soak in the art accompanied by great music.

This evening I went to a performance by the Ballet Folklorico in the ornate theater within the Palacio de Bellas Artes.

While probably a bit longer than I needed, this was impressive in every way as a variety of Mexican folk dance and musical styles were deftly demonstrated.

My flight home tomorrow (Monday) is at 2:19pm and I'll probably leave for the airport at 11 at the latest. It'd be perfect if the National Palace re-opened to the public, but word is that they won't until February.

I was considering going to the La Merced market, but think I'll just stick to strolling around the Zocalo, if even that.

It's been a really good 4 days. I've had a lot of fun and enlightenment, with no problems. 

Obviously, there are worthwhile places I didn't get to--besides the National Palace murals--but I saw most of what I really wanted to see and enjoyed everything I did.

And the weather was beautiful; once again, no rain. 

Probably not real soon, but I enjoyed Mexico City enough to want to return and think it's a place many more American travelers should visit.

I'm glad I did.

(See QuickPix.me for several iPhonetographs; will alert about a proper photo gallery when I get one done.)

Mexico City, Day 3: Teotihuacan and the Sounds of the Streets

Know thyself.

It's a pretty good adage for life, and particularly travel.

I know how much I enjoy--and have derived from--journeying to different places, predominantly cities but not just.

And with certain precautions, limitations and sacrifices--or at least trade-offs--I am comfortable and content to travel alone.

I am certainly not the fittest person in the world, and may occasionally need to take respites or find benches where others may not.

But though my legs and feet can grow rather sore, I largely soldier on, and even those who have no trouble taking 10-mile hikes for fun may be challenged to keep up with me on a day like yesterday where I toured 4 museum-type attractions in roughly 6 hours.

If you knew how much walking and climbing was involved in seeing the Diego Rivera murals at the Secretaria de Educacion Publica, the huge Museum of Anthropology, Chapultepec Castle and the Museum of Modern Art, you may more appreciate that I'm not such a wuss when it comes to making the most of my tourist adventures.

But in taking a guided tour today to see the ruins of the ancient city of Teotihuacan--about 30 miles north of Mexico City--unlike several other members of the group, I opted not to climb to the top of the Pyramid of the Sun nor the Pyramid of the Moon.

I make no apologies for this and I don't even regret it. 

First of all, the tour leader didn't climb either. So it wasn't like climbing to the apexes was essential for learning more about the ancient city that existed--if I have it straight--from roughly 100 BC to 750 AD, topping out at a population of 175,000.

Sure I would've taken a few more photos I didn't get a chance to, but particularly in the case of the larger Pyramid of the Sun, I'd have been standing atop the most photograhically impressive structure on the grounds.

So although I've--admittedly in younger years--climbed to the top of the Statue of Liberty, St. Paul's Cathedral, the Leaning Tower of Pisa and Palazzo Vecchio, the effort/risk-to-benefit ratio precluded me from even trying.

I really have doubts I could have made it to the top even if I tried, and getting down would have scared me even more, as these were steep, rocky steps with no railings.

Even on several smaller structures I had to climb, and from the lowest tier of the Pyramid of the Sun, I often opted to butt-slide my way down.

No point risking a heart attack, tumbling down the stairs or even great discomfort--then and later--especially out in the middle of nowhere where there weren't even rest room facilities.

But the tour otherwise--booked through Viator.com and led locally by Amigo Tours, with an archaeologist named Lise--was quite good and I'm glad I went on it.

Even if I didn't hit the highest heights.

Getting back to my hotel about 3:00, I took a nap and then wandered the streets, which was rather wonderful.

I heard drummers, saw dancers, heard a violinist and watched a damn good jazz band, all out in the streets.

Then I went to the famed Cafe de Tacuba, where I had dinner and heard a Mariachi band for part of it.

I'm back in my room now but feel comfortable enough to walk five minutes to the Zinco Jazz Club in just a bit.

But traveling by myself--other than to New York and London, where theater presents built-in evening plans--I often find myself not doing much with my nights.

Without a categorical for either, I really don't drink or dance, so even if you told me I could get to and fro the hottest club in town--here and elsewhere--without any problems, worries, risks or even undue cost, I still wouldn't go.

And intrepid as I like to be, I've decided trying to get to Plaza Garibaldi, with its many mariachi bands, or the much further Floating Gardens of Xochimilco, isn't worth any theoretical discomfort I may feel.

But there are many undoubtedly enjoyable things prudence--fully justifiable or not--would preclude me from doing even in Chicago.

So I've been having a great time in Mexico City the only way I know how.

By knowing myself.

Mexico City, Day 2: An Exhausting Exploration of Extraordinary Art & History

If you read yesterday's recap, you noted my being a good bit miffed that the National Palace--and its Diego Rivera murals--was closed to tourists, although that this was in response to protesters burning down its front door makes it somewhat understandable.

Today almost began with that chagrin doubled, as the guest services desk at my hotel informed me that the Secretaria de Educacion Publica--with a far more extensive treasure trove of Rivera murals--was also inaccessible today.

I whined to the one lady vehemently enough--while assuring I wasn't vexed at her--that she called the National Palace, which verified it remains closed until February.

But her partner took it on herself to call the Secretaria de Educacion Publica and learned that it actually was open, right then. This was quite pleasing, even before I went there, because I knew it wouldn't be open on the  weekend and wasn't sure if getting there Monday morning before my flight would be feasible.

But boy am I glad I got to see it. With Rivera murals wrapping around all doorways on two floors of the courtyard building plus some works on a third, it was one of the most impressive displays of art at a single location by a single artist I've ever seen. Really mind-blowing stuff.

So were all the amazing artifacts at the National Museum of Anthropology.

I'm kinda running on fumes here and so is my phone, so I think I'll cut this short.

Also seen today:

Chapultepec Castle

Museum of Modern Art

Dinner at Puyol, supposedly the best restaurant in Mexico. It was excellent, if not quite as good--but also not quite as expensive--as Chicago's Alinea or Las Vegas' Picasso, to which it might compare.

Off to Teotihuacan bright and early tomorrow.

Mexico City: Day 1 - A Fine Start Despite the Missing Jetbridge Driver and Other Minor Inconveniences

Whenever one travels, you have to almost plan to encounter a few "Oh, darn!" moments while hoping to avoid the "Oh, damn!" and even "Oh, fuck!" variety.

Illness, injury and theft would probably find most feeling a bit damned, and I won't even surmise episodes of the even worse kind.

But things like getting somewhat lost if not desperately so, finding world-famous structures sheathed in scaffolding and discovering a museum you really wanted to visit closed for renovations are the types of things travelers can find really annoying but far from disastrous.

Five non-inflight or at-the-airport hours into my Mexico City trip, I have had one "Oh, darn!" moment and a couple of "Hmm, that's odd" ones, but really enjoyed my initial impressions nonetheless.

My flight out of O'Hare was on time and really smooth, right until we pulled up to the gate and found that there was no jet bridge waiting to allow us to deplane.

This wasn't even an "Oh, darn!" moment just a minor annoyance that turned almost comical as the pilot announced--during what became a 20-minute delay--that he could see workers on the jet bridge but was being told they had to find the guy who could drive it. I guess eventually they did.

I got through passport control with no problem but it took an oddly long time for my suitcase to come 'round the baggage carousel. But again, no real problem as was the gridlocked traffic jam my taxi became ensnarled in.

My hotel, Zocalo Central, seems perfectly situated and rather nice.

But the first thing I wanted to do in Mexico City--see Diego Rivera murals at the National Palace--became "Oh, darn," as I learned that Mexico's principal government building is now closed to the public indefinitely due to some recently rather charged protests on the Zocalo square.

I'll check if anything is different tomorrow or Monday but though I still plan on seeing many Rivera murals--at the Secretaria de Educacion Publica and elsewhere--I would somewhat rue not seeing the glorious ones that adorn the palace.

But that's life, even on vacation.

And it's not like my day was really ruined, as I really enjoyed seeing the Templo Mayor--the excavated ruins of an Aztec temple in the heart of Mexico City--and many striking artifacts in its accompanying museum.

I took a good gander--and tons photographs--within the huge old Metropolitan Cathedral that's on the Zocalo just steps from my hotel.

And after getting to the point of truly starving after having only had a croissant this morning at O'Hare, I found my way to a restaurant I had read about called Azul Historico.

It was really outstanding, and not even that expensive. I had a fish dish I can't exactly describe but it was terrific as was a preceding soup and a following chocolate tamale.

Now I'm back at my hotel, a little sheepish to be in for the night so early but feeling it probably for the best. The hotel staff has assured me this area is very safe and I should have no problem if I want to walk a few blocks to a jazz club.

Maybe tomorrow as the performers listed tonight don't seem worth getting out of bed for. And there doesn't seem much point wandering the streets aimlessly as much as I enjoy it.

So good night and I look forward to checking in again tomorrow. I did put up some pictures you can find at QuickPix.me.

Just Me and the Cleaning Crew

I am sitting at Lambert-St. Louis International Airport all by myself, excepting a few maintenance personnel.

Oddly, at this very moment the piece of Muzak playing is "On My Own" from Les Miserables.

I left Buenos Aires this morning on a 9:40 flight that brought me to Miami. From there I had to fly into St. Louis, arriving at a bit after 10pm.

My flight to Chicago leaves St. Louis at 6am, so it seemed kind of silly to book a hotel for about $100 for a a few hours sleep.

I feel fortunate to have been able to use frequent flyer miles--40,000--for this trip into Rio and out of Buenos Aires. If I had to pay cash for airfare I doubt I would've gone on this trip, nor many of my 10 overseas jaunts over the past 15 years.

Bur though the American Airlines AAdvantage frequent flyer program has been very good, it seems that things are now a lot more constrictive in terms of finding mileage flights, especially if wanting to use the minimum possible required miles.

Hence, having to fly into one New York airport and out of another, as I did on this trip and also my European excursion last year.

And the three-legged return itinerary I am now amidst, even though there were a couple direct flights from Miami that I easily could have caught.

Not only were those flights unavailable to book using miles when I made my plans, but in checking several times before my trip, when I checked in outbound, and in both Buenos Aires and Miami in returning, I couldn't get a seat.

So here I am. Although another passenger in the same predicament just showed up.

Now I don't have the whole place to myself. But maybe I'll try catching a few winks.

History, Shopping, Grandeur, Art, Tango Combine for a last day in BA

It's 12:30 AM and I just got back from a tango show--observatory not participatory--and I have to wake up in five hours to go to the airport.

So I'll just say I spent some time in the area of Buenos Aires known as La Boca, a cool and kitschy old neighborhood now lined with souvenir shops.

I took a tour of Teatro Colon, an opera house that was truly impressive even after having seen other grand halls in Vienna, Budapest and Rio de Janeiro over the past year.

Also went to the Museo Belas Artes, which  has free admission and a rather impressive international collection.

Then dinner in the San Telmo area and watching tango and hearing music at El Viejo Almacen. It was pretty cool.

 

And so was this trip. Once again, no rain.

I should be home either late Friday night or early Saturday morning. 

A Much Smoothapalooza

With the caveat thay I'm writing this while waiting for a cab to take us back to our hotel, Day 2 of Lollapalooza went much better than Day 1.

For starters, we got an outbound cab with no problem (yesterday we had gotten into 2 taxis only to learn they either didn't know how to get to San Isidro or didn't want to take us, then had to go back to order an appropriate one from the hotel).

Since we had our 2-day tickets in hand--plus a wristband for no obvious reason--getting into the Lollapalooza grounds was a breeze.

And now the taxi has come so getting back to the hotel in Buenos Aires should be simple as well.

As for the music, we had 6 performers who ranged from decent to outstanding over nearly 8 hours of continuous music.

Johnny Marr played a strong hourlong set mixing songs from his excellent 2013 album, The Messenger, with Smiths  classics like "Bigmouth Strikes Again,"  "How Soon is Now?" and " There is a Light That Never Goes Out." He also did a great version of "I Fought the Law."

The two younger artists I saw today--British singer Ellie Goulding and American hipsters Vampire Weekend--were fine but served mostly as background music as a lay on our blanket and read a book on my iPhone.

As at Riot Fest in Chicago last September, The Pixies sounded strong but suffered in my eyes by playing a set far to esoteric for a festival crowd. It was nice to hear "Wave of Mutilation" and "Gouge Away," but there was too much I didn't know and that tended to languish.

For the third time in recent years after reuniting, Soundgarden reminded me that they are one of the best hard rock bands that has ever existed, and they still sound on top of their game. They were just fantastic, and the best act I saw over the two days of Lollapalooza Argentina.

Closing out the festival, the Red Hot Chili Peppers also sounded really good. 

I'm finishing writing this from bed and think I'll end here and close my eyes.

But I'll just mention that before the show I went over to Recoleta Cemetery, where Eva Peron and many other notable Argentines are buried. 

I also went into a nearby 18th-century church, a fancy hotel called Alvear Palace and the Hard Rock Cafe which I just happened to come upon. 

I tried to go to the city's main art museum, but it was closed due to a holiday I was unaware of until a taxi driver mentioned it to Paolo; I guess he commemorates the Falklands War.

So no art today, but lots of really good rock. I don't think I'll be attending many more festivals, but I'm glad I suffered through this one.

I don't know if rock 'n roll can really save my soul, but it's definitely good for it.

And did I mention, Soundgarden rocked.