And so in Conclution...

Im just reading though all the past posts and comments that I missed at the time

Highlights include...

1. Angus's Facial Rash
2. Yak eating my soap so deservedly chased
3. Stabbing some gropy guy on a bus
4. Smacking over some guy in a marketplace for groping me
5. Any other random acts of violence/groping
6. Vomiting at yet another major tourist detination...Taj Mahal
7. Secret booty call handshakes
8. Having a 6 year old exclaim in suprise " Jim-didi you STILL fat!"

freaking priceless....as they say

Nepali Road, Take Me Home

Well thats it. Its over and done:In 72 hours I'll be home and Nepal will continue on without me. Its been doing pretty well for the last thousand years or so, so I think it will be ok I guess.

These last few days have been fantastic and now I don't want to come home! Fidels or not. The kids were fine and dandy, it was so great to spend a few days with them and see just how much they had grown in the few months I've been away. And noticing the changes I know that I'll be back again soon as can, I just dont want to miss out on all their growing up, like Yoyo getting her hearing aid, Sunita A getting more mobile (she's having another operation) and just seeing them all a little bit bigger and brighter than before. Bistachaap is just the same; calm and green and timeless. The paddies had just been harvested and at night you look down to bonfires of chaff being burnt down in the valley.

I've met some great people and nothing brings all nationalities together like the world cup. Or drive them apart for that matter. Last night found a large group of Voluteers swilling Everest Beer, smoking cheap Yak cigarettes and cheering wildly (or ogling fit young men) in the Australia vrs Brasil game at Budda Bar. Nobody (but the aussies) really cared who was winning or not, so it was a great night of cheap beer, momos and loud conversation.

So in a few hours i'll bargin my way into a taxi and off to the airport. One night in Bangkok later and I'll be headed home...reluctantly.

Living On A Prayer

I am not dead

That said I am very tired and pretty much look dead. Sun burnt, 3 months re-growth, not much fooding and dirty feet make for a preettty atractive Jim right now. As I can't be assed writing a complete blog right now I've cut and pasted an email I sent my parents last night. I think it speaks for its self in terms of bad spelling, grammer and conherance just how tired I truely am. Names have been not been changed.


"That was the most PAINFUL TOURTURE i have endured so far. Im metally
exhasted (see spelling) my Train from Varanasi was 9 HOURS LATE!!!!!!!!!!!
so thats 9 hours waiting at the train station then 15 HOURS not knowing if i
would make my non-refundable flight. Eyes closed praying hard that i would make it in time Half the time the train wasnt even moving so we just sat there, it was sohot i really really smell now but i have to eat something and send this before i do anything else. When i
arrived at Kolcutta at 3.30 ten minutes after the flight depature time but
was banking on the flight beign delayed like EVERYTHING ELSE IN THIS COUNTRY

OF HELL so ran through thr station rugby forward style literally bowling
people down found a taxi with the most non english speaking driver possable
(everytime i yelled go go he would stop) and off we went slowly as Kolcutta
traffic is so bad. to make thing worse the driver just diddnt pick up on my
EXTREME agitation and kept asking me to sing "country song" guessing he
meant "from my country" not a rousing rendition of "Jolene" i could only
remember the words to the theme song from "friends" so that sufficed. at the

airport the only money i had left was a 500 ruppee note to pay for a 250
fare and you could see the delight in his eyes when he realised i was in too

much of a hurry to find change. Certainly made his day. The guy at the
security check told me id missed my flight but the next guy told me it was
DELAYED!!!!!! YEY HA!!!! i actully shouted for joy!! so off i went with a
few hiccups and catches......lost pocket knife number two. tryed to skip
security. Got my hair stuck on the bathroom
tap...................................now Nepal. Its a cool 28 degrees.
Heavan!! everything seems calm and familer.....oh so tired now"


So you see I'm back in Nepal and it is great like being home. In the Kolcutta I actully danced with joy to be leaving India behind. Its such an overwhelming place. Kathmandu I love you!!!Visited my friends and just sitting chatting about nothing was such a break from the rush of it all. I've just got back from assiting with the health checks at Charity Nepal one of the orphages that voluteers like I was are working. Great to see the kids again and to help out just has me planning to return again already. Tomorrow I'm going out to the orphanage I was at to visit for a few days before home. There is a new orphage being built there so painting and sanding to be done. I'm keen so lending a hand....not so keen on lentils and rice again. I still can't stomach that after a year away! Can't wait to see the kids again......little blighters

Ooh Sweet Child of Mine (and a small fries)

I'm on the winddown now feeling like its almost time to head home and after the madness, frustration and lunacy this place has thrown at me over the last weeks I'm actully looking forward to it. Its been half silent screaming half wonderful....sometimes too hard to tell the two apart.
I'm back in Dehli again not a fantastic place but compared to where I spent the last few weeks seems like Tommorrowland. All flashy rickshaws and brand-name shops.....I sat in McDonalds today with my McCurry Puff (not kidding) and small coke in a bubble of young Delhi-ites in jeans basking in the air-con and ambiant strains of "sweet child of mine". Amazing considering 3 days ago I was riding a camel into the desert and sleeping in the sand dunes (yes romantic in terms of stars, dessert winds, lofty camels and the flattering light of a camp fire but a little less glossy when you take into account my aching butt from camel saddle, that i was so covered in sand and sweat i looked like a native of Tantooine and i lay in front of the camp fire in a heap due to my malnourished status but all this will fade and only memory of the deep love between my trusty camel and I will endure. Fingers Crossed. Jasilmer,the fort where I stayed when I wasn't swaying across the sands, rises right out of the rock exactly like a giant sand castle. It had to be one the coolest places to stay in India. You can stay right in the walls of the fort which were riddled with highly carved houses and warren like streets run every which way. But so damm hot. The flames of hell sounded refreshing as you hid from the sun between 11 and 4 and the temp reaches up to 49 degrees. Nights were spent sleeping on the roof where I looked down over the town below straight over the rest of the town also spending the night in the open air hopeing for a breath of air. The second night stareing up at the sky I felt a gust a hot air and sat up to see a huge wall of sand moving toward the city. Everyone paniced rushing for shelter to avoid getting sandblasted by the sand storm. Its a intrusive gritty fine dust that gets into you throat and eyes in a second and took the house boys several days to sweep the whole place clean from top to bottom. Much worse if it gets into your freshly washed underwear!! WHY GOD WHY!!!!!!! I'm still getting it out of my ears (note: dust not underwear)

Anyway I'm pooped so off to bed for me.....Chapati wishes and Camel-themed dreams

Jim's Whimsical Twinkly Happy Times

yeah yeah time of my life....I'm hot and tired and dusty, went to the bottom of the sub-continant, had my palm read, symbolically threw out the demons in my mind into the Indian Ocean, ate a mango icecream,tryed to get a room, got overcharged, had a tantram about everyone thinking im a rich westerner, refused to pay so much, had to sleep in the train station, got told that several men during my travels had booty called me using a secret handshake and i just hadnt known it, was grossed out by a dead dog, killed 3 large cockroches, spent 8 extra hours on a train 'cause i slept in, got overcharged, got stared at alot, had a crazy dream that when i got back my flat was a reproduction of the Taj Mahal, sat on a wooden bench on the overcrowded death train from hell for 9 hours, ate some squid that i bought from a man with one eye (bob-cat-man), got stared at, bought the best mango i've ever tasted, dropped the last half out the door of the train by mistake, failed for the second week to do any laundry, got overcharged and finally pretty much am running out of cash and time.

I think that covers it. I'm in Mumbai.

Ghandi out

Pictorial Tour of India with Jim

Fruit and vege market, Mysore. Biggest spiders I've ever seen hiding in the bananas


Hampi...jungle book/bedrock,mozzies as big as your hand and a million gekos.


Insense and dyes in the Devaraja Market, Mysore.



I love Train. It's the best way to travel. So Marcus Lush right now.



Traditional mehndi (henna) on me big ol' hand. Its now really faded and looks like shit....literaly



5.30 am Jim enjoys a Jain buddist moment at the top of 970 steps at Sravanbelagola


Cramped, hot, smelly and on my way to Ooty by steam train.




Typical touristy shot at the Maharaj's Palace, Mysore. Please note: it was laundry day. Desperate times means resorting to Plumbing World T-shirts.

My gift is Mysore and this one's for you

For you those of you who know me well you will know that I hate ceiling fans. A strange thing to despise but I always think that one day one will wobble loose from its grip on the ceiling and plunge down and chop me up into ragged chunks. A pointless and undignified way to die ( other entries under Jim's crap ways to die include "death by coconut to head" and "Of mortification after falling down a long drop toilet" I have had anxiety dreams about all three). So I surprise myself by falling victim to Stockholm Syndrome, I love the thing I hate. I love fan. Im too cheap to pay for Air Con both on the train or in my hostels. Actually im so cheap that my hostels don't even offer A/C. And as a busy manager of a cruddy hostel in India where young travelers will sleep on a mildewed rug just to pay 20 cents why bother with installing a/c when you can have death fans. Leaves you free to oil you hair, grow you fingernails really long and make fat jokes with young kiwi girls named Jim. Priceless. On the train down from Hampi to Mysore (which I only came to really cause you have to go up Mysore street to get to Ma and Pa Bakers) I went sleeper class which means open windows with a grill, three tiers of bunks and the dreaded fans of doom (these ones are caged for your safety). The fans suck in the dust and when I sat up in the morning I could see the thick red dust outline from where I lay like a desert homicide had occurred in the night. I'm surprised I slept at all as the fan at the bottom of my bunk kept blowing up my pants and inflating them like a wind sock. Some say refreshing I say f**kin annoying. Hampi was cool like Bedrock meets Jungle book. Huge boulders litter the bright green banana plantaions and the air doesn't move. A big river runs through and all day is filled with the village boys swimming and diving and doing international small boy mischief. No girls aloud. I wanted to swim so badly!! It was the first river I'd seen in India I actually wanted to swim in as most are 10%water 90%poo. And under a Mango tree in the midday sun I met Fingal Pollack, a girl who was at Uni when I was and who has on multiple occations annoyed me so much I almost killed her. Some things don't change. So I ran away from her interpretive dancing ways and now am in Mysore where so far toured the Maharaja's palace, rolled my own insense, brought some grapes, ate some grapes, vomited some grapes and sat and watched the lightning and thunder of a monsoon downpour. Same old same old really. You guys aren't missing anything.

Wake me up before you Goa

Im in Panjim the capital of Goa....its crazy hot and this is on the coast! I
hired the OLDEST bike in the world for 3 days at the whopping cost of 8o
rupees! and cycled the 20 or so km to old Goa which has some of the states
best churches. Huge portugese built basilicas and nunnerys and the remains
of St Fransis Xavier in a glass coffin. He's a youthful 400 years old....looking a little dry there Frankie!
My bum has never been so sore! Even though I padded the seat with my as yet
unused bag of foot wool and my wee towel all taped up with medical tape.ahh Kiwi ingenuity. My bike was awsome, it was so rusty, the front brake didnt work and the handle bars and the front wheel pointed in different directions so to go straight i had to hang a constant left.I really wanted a picture of me with it but my camera only works 40% of the time and i cant do it myself and dont trust giving it to anyone else to do.

My camera is driving me mad. it goes then switchs off, then won't go then I
wiggle the battery and it goes then just as my picture is lined up it stops,
sitches off but is still open so I have to open the battery wiggle it and
make it go just to turn it off!! SO FRUSTRATING!!! I have hardly any
pictures and none of me doing anything. As it's the low season there is
hardly another tourist around to take one for me

I was going to leave tommorrow but my train to Hampi doesnt go until
Wednesday in the early morning. so another day...its like the Nelson of India.
and its the first place in India that actully looks like it would be a nice
place to live! When I first got here I went straight out to Arambol one of the beaches. I was there one night before I turned around and came back. It was gross. Too many tourists mostly beet red Poms, gross water and the most seedy atmosphere ever. Nice and cool but i haven't been into the really hot middle of India yet so maybe i'll hit the coast after that.

Went to the market in Mapsa this morning about a half hour bus away. Loaded
up with cucumber and rolls and oranges for the train. Had trouble with a guy who keep bumping into me and then hissing "nice boobs" in my face loudly. I ignored him as I was having a good time with my new friend Deepak (11 year old boy who helped me find stuff "no Deepak I dont want sweets!") but about the 5th time I saw him coming, stopped and yelled "do you think I dont see you" he kept coming so I shoved him away really hard in the chest. It made the biggest sound and he went flying!!!!! Everyone stopped and looked and Deepak was most impressed although at first confused as to why I did it. when I explained he had said bad things to me he yelled " bam like bruce lee!" then when we kept meeting his other little friends he would tell them the story always ending with "bam like bruce lee!"
guess im just amzing!!! the guys here are sleazy as but I seem to scare them
somewhat. Everytime I catch a glimse of myself in a bus window or mirror I
look so feirce!! Like I am waiting for someone to piss me off so I can stab
them!!! Its not how I feel, it's just my defence! Its working. and I do have
my knife in my pocket. Mostly its stareing and following. Sometimes it muttering but the worst is the groping or leaning. Guys on buses who edge closer and closer to you till they have an arm or shoulder against your chest. yeah smooth moves. i have actully poked some guy with my knife. I opened it inside my bag then gave him a little stab through the side. He jumped a mile while I looked blank. Serves you right you dirty pervert. I took a motorcycle taxi and the driver kept moving further and further back until i was hanging off the back by the skin of my teeth. When he had no luck that way he started to lean right back till he was practicaly lieing right down. I hardly wanted to stab someone who was driving the bike i was on (well i wanted too but safety first) so i pretended i saw a friend and jumped off. Almost no females travel here alone so I have to have my defence mechanisms in place. Besides who doesnt enjoy a little stabbing!

People always ask the same 3 questions....what is your good name? where are
you from? and are you alone? my good name is Jim, I am from NZ and i am here
with my boyfriend Jake who i am meeting in 10 minutes (safety,safety!!). This Jake guy who although fictional gets asked about more than anything as people tend to move the conversation towards the males in my life, eg my dad, grandfather or pretend husband/boyfriend, never mind about me. He is a moterbike race driver (well if I can just make it up why not!!) and very smart. and yes he does like me even thought I'm a big girl ( this was an actual conversation). "Are you married" is usally the fourth question and although Jake and I started out being married I did have to recreate my entire wedding for one woman on a bus (it was beautiful...you guys were all there) and that's more effort than I am willing to put in even for a dreamboat like Fake Jake.