Ladakh - Lamayuru

Journal entry on July 07, 2016

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I reached Lamayuru around 12:00PM. It took me exactly four hours including stops. The journey wasn't interesting. The landscapes had nothing to boast of until the last five to seven minutes before reading Lamayuru. The terrains began to change drastically and then came the signboard: Welcome to the moonland. Yes, indeed.

I checked myself into the monastery hotel but it was not as I expected. It was too nice and too modern. Unlike that of the Kee Monastery in Kibber where the accommodation was affixed and joint within the monastery itself, this one was a proper hotel. But then again, I did only see male traveller in Kee so I reckon maybe women aren't allowed? I need to stop expecting and reimagining things I read. The price for the room was okay though, especially for the amenities. I was approached by some home stay people an they quoted the same price that I was paying here. It was yet another uphill climb to the monastery but I did manage to drag out my last ounce of strength to bargain just a little bit for the room price, my excuse being that I was just a solo person. I got a nice room with a great view so that worked out well. 

The first thing I did? The post office. I finally posted all my postcards. Lamayuru had a Post Mistress which was a first and the post office was a residence (which wasn't a surprise anymore thanks to Spiti). I thought I had a lot to post but clearly I had company in an elderly British lady. I wrote a lot of cards even to people who clearly don't deserve it. The only problem is whether it's going to reach the people. The postcards were so nice. It would be a loss...

Initial plan was to stay for two daYs but I wouldn't be able to catch the bus if I stay on till Saturday so I think heading back tomorrow itself would be better. It's too bad because I really wanted to head on forward to Kargil. Well, Shergole was what was exciting me more... but maybe another time. I think it's been far too long and I am exhausted. From the looks of Lamayuyu though, I think I can pretty much cover it in a day so I think I should be okay. 

It's a tiny and a very quiet place. I reckon most of the tourists just pass by to see the Monastery. Seemingly its the oldest in Ladakh. I might have to check up on that though. And on that note, I wonder whether I should visit it later or in the morning? Considering I am just a minute away, anytime would do.

It's lonely being alone here I suppose, especially since I've been in great company for the last 10 days. But when you're alone, you tend to notice things more. You become more attune to your surroundings. And there's no rush too, to get things done.  There's a bunch of little Lamas (little monks?) in training that would make a great photograph. I wonder if I can catch them... would they oblige though? Is it even allowed? 

I understand that traveling in India means meeting/coming across/being in the company of Indians obviously but that doesn't mean I enjoy it one bit! They are a mostly crude bunch with no manners. They are obscene and lewd and no matter what you do or don't do, make you feel out of place and uncomfortable. And clearly there are a lot of those here and I really wonder why. I thought I had the roof top corner to myself but it's just gotten a tad bit crowded and I am just feeling terribly uncomfortable. I think it's time I make my exit from here and walk around the moonlands. 

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It's 18:41PM and I  have pretty much covered everything there might be in Lamayuru. Almost every house is a homestay and from the short conversations I had with two homestay offerers, the flow of foreign tourists have decreased drastically in the last two years. "It's mostly Indian tourists who visit these days" one said, not very pleased. 

I am throughly confusing and confounding people here. I didn't think that that would be the case HERE! I thought I would fit in and just blend in but apparently not. The hotel reception staff treated me as if I was a foreign tourist and so did the cafe I had my lunch in. It was getting a bit tedious and I think I might have shown some irritation to the guy serving me. But honestly, what can I do? I'm okay with answering questions but I just hate that initial "where are you from?" question followed by "you don't look Indian". It's gotten absolutely tiresome. I even caused the young bus conductor some panic at the checkpoint where foreign tourists have to get their papers checked. "Madam! hurry, passport check!" he said, frantically waving at me from outside. I had to reply in Hindi to calm him down. He later came, stood next to me and of course, started off the usual line of questioning. "I thought you were Japanese" he said. He did know where Manipur was though and after a few minutes, he asked me where I was going and gave me some helpful tips for the bus next day. At least one good thing came out of it. "Okay then, bye" he said when I got off and we waved at each other. He would've made a good picture. 

I did visit the monastery and while I didn't get my group of little Lamas, I did get one and he made it worthwhile. 

Rigzin is 12 and has been at the monastery for eight years, meaning he came in when he was four. His parents live down in the village and he gets to see them on Sundays. I saw him peeking through a window when I entered the main monastery. His head sticking out of the window would've made an amazing frame but when I looked again, he had disappeared. After a round below the monastery ruins and a stop to check photos, he reappeared again with two plastic jerry cans.  I said hi and asked whether he would like a photo taken and he said yes, eagerly and I was relieved. I think he found the polaroid very intriguing so I asked him if he wanted one to which I got the most excited set of nods. I made him pose for me with the polaroid as well and then just chatted with him for a bit before sending him on his way. Clearly he had a job to do! He ran to his friends first though and I heard a roar of giggles and laughter. The little Lamas reminded me of The Last Airbender, of Ang who remembers his childhood days at the Air monastery before he ran away. Judging by the terrains though, Rigzin and his friends are all earth benders. 

The kid was so happy at having his picture taken and that made me glad. I don't think I'm a nice person. I'm not very kind nor am I charitable. I think that's just who I am... but at times I do wish that I had that grace. I'm not unkind but wanting to do good, helping people or even playing with little kids for that matter don't come naturally. It's another matter than I am scared of kids but it makes me wonder just what kind of person I am. Which is why I guess I like to take photographs of some people. So far, I've taken so many pictures but there have only been a few people that I've shot with the polaroid as a gift to them. I don't know... this is probably not the best time for a self assessment but that kid. He was stoked. I wonder what his life will be like a few years from now. 

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It's 20:22PM and there's a crescent moon over the moon land. I walked and hiked around the moorland terrains today as well as the highest vantage point, past the Monks in solitary prayer and fasting. It's understandable why its been dubbed as the 'moonlands'. The resemblance to the moon scape, craters and structures are uncanny, the only difference being the colour. I think in a weird way, I am still chasing that childhood dream and it makes me blue. "What if I studied harder?" is the biggest question of all but even if I did, then what? I'm sure it would've been completely improbable. People talk about reaching for the stars metaphorically and that dream, no matter how much I wanted it to become real, will just remain that. I never thought that a childhood dream would be so hard to let go especially one as impossible as that but I'll just have to live with that. It's not all that bad because I realized that somethings do last a life time. Astronomy will always be my first love. I guess this is the closest that I will ever get to the moon, so to speak, and you know what? I guess I'm okay with that. I hope ME in the alternate universe is living out the dream. 

Ladakh - Leh

Filled with curio shops with names such as Aladdin’s Cave, Leh felt ethereal and, without any notions of cultural appropriations, that it sprang to life right out of Arabian Nights. Walking in the main market (baazar) transported you back to the days of the old. Well, not really. We just felt that that’s what it would’ve felt like in the old days. The traditional clothes of the Ladakhi people are very nifty and in its own way, stylish.

There is a fusion of culture (Buddhism, Islam and Hinduism largely) that on the surface really complements one another. The antiquated impressions from the miniature Mughal art and jewelry, a familiar smell and taste of Tibetan food and the ever so famous pashminas shawls hung outside the shops means you never run out of things to do while walking in the small market square.

The Mosque is your first point of contact when you enter the market though. It is right in your view and while the Leh Palace looms majestically above the Mosque, it will most probably be the Mosque that you’ll remember long after you’ve left. 

The panoramic view of Leh from the Palace shows the uniformity of the streets and the houses, whether it be through colour or style. Neither Debbie nor Sarju nor I have stepped foot into Afghanistan but from what we saw through photographs and on the news, the view of Leh that was laid out in front of us immediately made us think of Kabul.  

the old part of Leh town which you will encounter while making your way to the Palace or in our case, making our way down (because we were so done climbing uphill) was very medieval. The lanes and paths were narrows with semi ruined buildings which were very charming. It was very neat as well, completely devout of any form of trash (or smell) which is a prominent feature in the streets of India. No matter how wonderful the old Blue City (Jodhpur) was, it was just dirty. Leh, on the other hand, has none of that. 

I don't feel fit to write about Leh. We used it as out point of entry for our trip and while we walked around in the evenings and at night, those few hours weren't enough for me to give you a narrative. We did have one of the best meals in a tiny little Tibetan restaurant. In fact we enjoyed it so much that two backpackers peeped in and seeing us enjoy the food, entered and ordered exactly the same things as us. We decided to have our last meal together there once we got back from Pangong Tso but unfortunately, it was shut. I don't even remember the name of it because it was so unassuming from the exterior but I remember the location well in my mind. I should also add that for two continuous days, we ate at an amazing Punjabi dhaba which served typical north Indian food. We sat there and ordered on top of our order. I think that was more ME than we but nevertheless, bottomline was this: it was as good and as authentic as it could get and we named the owner 'Sunny' because he just seemed like a really nice and jolly chap.

Leh didn't fall short in terms of food. Just don't expect the wifi to work. That's just the way it is. And a word of warning: unless you have a BSNL postpaid simcard, there's no chance that you are going to get a cell connection so be prepared for that. We were disconnected through the trip and personally, I was alright with it. But I was struck by one thing: I don't know if its because times have changed so much that its caught up to the concept of PCO's but we didn't see a single one in sight even in Leh. 

I met an old friend who calls Leh home on my last day and he took me cycling around the villages surrounding Leh. Our first stop was the Spituk Gompa (Monastery) followed by cycling in the trailsand backroads, also stopping near an old wooden bridge by the banks of the Indus river. It was fairly cool day but cycling for six hours did nothing for my skin. So yeah, that's a warning. Do load up on sunscreen. 

So without having too much to write about, I am just going to present Leh in photographs.

JULY 03 - 09, 2016

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Ladakh - Pangong Tso

Confession: I do not watch Bollywood movies. But I doubt that's not hard to believe. So you’ll forgive me if I didn’t know that Pangong Tso was made famous by Three Idiots, a fact reiterated to me with details by Debbie. So okay, it’s safe to say that we were preparing ourselves for a swarm of tourists.

The original plan was to go to Tsomo riri Lake instead but buses to the closest village shuttled only thrice a month (the 10th, 20th and 30th) and the dates unfortunately weren’t aligning for us and while we talked about hiring a car, we weren’t drivers good enough for the Ladakhi terrains and more importantly, I don’t think you CAN hire cars right? I seem to remember a piece of information that stated so.

We were going to spend a night at Pangong Tso and on our return, Debbie and Sarju were going to go ahead to Srinagar while I stayed back in Ladakh. We were staying at the Ree – Yull Guesthouse with a really, really chilled out owner (who we dubbed as ‘Uncle’ from the beginning). He has two good looking bikes that he likes to polish almost every day and I’m certain it’s his pride and joy. He was very accommodating especially since I was going to keep coming back for a night’s worth of stay in the guesthouse. We got the room in the terrace for the first two nights when it was still the three of us together and it was the most comfortable we had been in what felt like ages. We actually washed our clothes and hung them on the clothes line! Being able to wash your clothes and hang them in a decent place is a benchmark and I know that most of you who rough it out while travelling will agree.

We went to the main bus stop to enquire about the bus to Pangong and found out that it was leaving tomorrow and would return the day after.

Without any leg room, the journey is a struggle no doubt but again, the landscape. It’s so difficult to describe it if you haven’t been there. The influx of tourists in Ladakh is growing tenfold and it’s not just foreigners but also Indians. Seeing groups of bikers is not an uncommon scene and you envy that freedom that is paraded as they ride past and you tell each other wistfully “I wish I could ride a bike” because you’d have the liberty to pace yourself, to stop wherever you want, to take a detour at every bend and find an adventure within your escapade. But it wasn’t to be. Us folks on the bus, we stuck to the view out of the window and to the places where the bus stopped, such as Changla Pass. At 17, 688 ft, it is the world’s third highest (pass) in the world. However, rather than the view, what proved to be more entertaining was our bus conductor, bus driver and three young women seated in the drivers sleeping bay.

Love is a universal language and we didn’t need to understand what they were saying because actions and body language said it all. The young bus conductor was trying to flirt with the prettiest girl of the three but while she was flirting back, her eyes were on the bus driver, an older man who never let go of his sunglasses. The pretty girl’s friend had her eyes on the young bus conductor which meant there was a full blown love triangle going on. The third friend on the other hand sat with her arms crossed in the corner, was uninterested and continued to scoff at the other two from time to time. We felt bad for the young conductor as he tried to make his moves on the pretty girl but to no avail. Sarju was seated on the opposite side of Debbie and me because she wanted more space but every time there was a development in the drivers’ bay, we’d look at each other at the same exact time, exchanging smirks. Good ol’ love.   

We first saw the sight of Pangong Tso seven hours into the journey. The outline of the lake was never ending and everyone on the bus had their faces out of the tiny windows. We stopped at what seemed to “the tourist spot”. Just for the heck of it, Debbie and I went and asked around about the prices for a room there. ₹3, 500/- per night they said. I’m not even going to sugar coat my language here: We scoffed, uttered shhhiiiit and buggered off. There were cut outs from the movie scene and seemingly, everyone was taking pictures at one part of the lake. I imagine they saw it in the movie. After about half an hour (of tourist watching), our bus called us aboard as we were going further ahead. Out last stop was a village called Spangmik where we would be staying overnight. On arrival, we went around looking for homestays and found one where the lady charged ₹300/- per bed so we took it.

Aboard the bus with us was a young Korean girl (among others). She was also looking for a homestay and looked a bit lost and confused. Debbie thought she might need help and went over to her also saying that the house we were staying in had another room, in turn free beds. She inquired about the price and said no. we thought she wanted a better place to stay so we told her that we inquired about the tents and wooden shacks that had their attached bathrooms too and they were charge around ₹2, 000/-. That’s when she elucidated her need. She wanted something cheaper than ₹300/-. We immediately gave up, said okay and left her. We were just annoyed. There she was carrying fancy equipment’s and wearing $150 Nike flyknits but ₹300/- was too expensive for her? In the face of cheap and budget travel, ₹300/- is pretty much CHEAP especially when it’s for one night in a tourist-infested spot like Pangong Tso.

I think we were just offended on some level because of the audacity of not just her but other travelers that come to India. It’s already affordable and with their foreign currencies, it’s dirt cheap. Eventually it came down to this one question: If we are okay to pay these prices, why are they being miserly about it? I don't want to get into the discussions we had because that'll spiral out of control. Also, there are going to be more objections about the beautiful Pangong Tso without meaning to turn you off from visiting, I must add. 

As beautiful as the lake is, it was just too crowded. I get that we were tourists too and I know there’s no way of escaping it sometimes (and we were okay with that) but it wasn’t fun at the lake. There was nothing to do. Apart from walking around the lake that it. And even that’s not terribly fun when any secluded spot you chose was intruded by people. The best spot was taken up by everyone so we kept walking further down and found ourselves a spot because we wanted to take a dip and it wasn’t exactly allowed. The water was freezing but we had made up our minds even before we left Leh. We were going in. I set up the camera to video mode and on the count of three, we ran in together, hand in hand making sure no one was in sight and just as well because within minutes of our stunt, there was a swarm of cars and people that came by. We were waiting for our clothes to dry and mine was taking forever. That, the cold wind and the number of people that were shifting their base to where we were completely put me off and I was completely annoyed.  

I had a terrible time walking back because the wind was biting cold and I am pretty sure my sinus was acting up. It was 6:30PM and the sun was still bright but I changed and got into bed and I think so did Debbie and Sarju too once they reached. We got some amazingly thick blankets but even those and thermals weren’t enough. I was chattering and shivering and I could still feel the wind. That damn dip was definitely quite the experience. We got some warm lemon ginger tea in the restaurant that we saw on the way and turned in for a dreamless slumber.

The next morning, I tried waking up early before our bus ride back to Leh so I could take some shots of the lake but clearly, 100 other people had the same idea. I guess after 10 days of traveling, trekking, barely seeing a soul and being left to your own devices, Pangong Tso was just a sudden push into reality and we weren’t enjoying it for most parts. You'd think that at around 7:00AM, there would be peace and quite but it seemed as if that was asking too much when in Pangong Tso. 

There was no sign of any ‘village’ might I add. Whatever little houses there were, were all homestays. Other than that, there was an army camp because Pangong Tso flows directly into Tibet making it a border area. In fact, on google map, Pangong Tso is called ‘Bangong’. There are numerous tents and wooden shacks giving it a more ‘glamping’ feel. Here's the conclusion I came to: Pangong Tso is for people who want to experience roughing it but deep down, not really.

I didn’t hate it but I didn't love it either. There's no way to really play down the beauty of the lake. If you don't have time and can't do Tsomo riri, Pangong Tso is an option. So if you're tolerant, if you can deal with it for a night and go with the mindset of just wanting to see the place and get some beautiful photographs, I would still suggest a visit. I think it would be more fun with a large group of friends and your own vehicle too. Just don't mistake Pangong to be 'off the beaten track'. If you're one of those alternative travelers, I'd say stay far away and give it a miss altogether.

JULY 05, 2016

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Ladakh - the journey to Leh

The journey to Leh, Ladakh was manic.

We started from Kaza, capital of the Spiti-Lahaul region of Himachal Pradesh, at 5:00AM. It was a very uncertain morning though. We weren’t certain how we were going to reach Keylong at all. We had just finished our trek the previous day and asked around about taxis and buses but the responses weren’t helpful. The only choice we had was a taxi which would cost us around ₹1, 000 - 1, 200/- per person or the bus which would be as cheap as ₹300/-. It was a no brainer of course but the uncertainty was that the bus might be full.

We got to the bus stop at 5, an hour before departure, and what do you know, it was full. So we went and asked a taxi booth and they quoted us the same price. We had reached an impasse. What do we do? Pay that amount and go? I know it doesn’t sound like much but we were travelling on a tight budget and every penny counted since each of us were not professionally steady (freelancers and contract workers people, times are always hard!). ultimately, we came to a decision when one taxi man approached us. We would bargain and at least bring it down to 800/-. But get this: he asked for ₹1, 200/-, for the three of us. He said he would drop us off at the junction called Gramphu from where we would need to take a bus to get to Keylong. We tried exceedingly hard to contain our excitement at the price and within a few minutes, we were back on those harsh roads that had now become so familiar. The journey to and from Spiti leaves you speechless and anyone who’s been there can attest to that. It doesn’t get as cliché as this but it truly is another world on its own.

Seven hours and 130kms later, he stopped and told us that was where we needed to get off. We thought he was joking but he was deadly serious. “This is your stop, this is Gramphu” he said and went to pull out our bags. Gramphu was nothing. There was no sign, no bus stand, nothing. It was a junction sure but that was it. That point, that 50-meter part of the road, that was Gramphu. The weather was also taking a dip and the wind was threating to blow us away. There was another girl, who basically drove us mad without sleep from Kaza to Gramphu in the taxi with her endless singing and loud '90s music, who got off with us and Sarju and I just refused to communicate with her. That just left Debbie to be nice. She learned from her that we needed to catch the bus from the nearby village of Koksar, 45kms away. And how did we get to Koksar? We hitchhiked with a Border Roads Organization (BRO) truck that was heading there. We waited in Koksar for less than half an hour. Debbie continued to chat with the singing girl on our behalf because Sarju and I were behaving our worst. “She refused to let us sleep” was our reason for annoyance and we were also pretty sure that deep down, she was fuming at us. And we sure had a good laugh about it.

Starting off at 3:00PM, and paying less than ₹200/-, we reached Keylong by 5:30PM and we headed straight to the bus stand to book our tickets for Leh. The counter wasn’t open yet and with a couple of Brits, a French, a Spanish and an American backpacker, we waited. We were dirty, tired and hungry. My hair was forming dreadlocks. We hadn’t checked in anywhere yet so while Sarju and I waited for the tickets, Debbie went looking for a place to stay. I struck up a conversation with the other backpackers and the French girl said that she got a dorm bed for 100/-. But that was it. Seemingly there was no water or the bathroom was just namesake. Trust me when I say I am all for roughing it any where, any day but that day, I desperately needed water. I didn’t care hot or cold, but I needed water. There was no way I was going to hack off more hair that I had already done. Debbie came back and she said she found a place “it has a working wifi!” she said and Sarju and me knew that that’s what sealed the deal for her.

 We got the tickets which was basically a booklet, put on our rucksacks and climbed back up again. As much as we enjoyed the trek, we were so done with uphill climbs that any sight of a hill brought out a unison of groans and a stretched out noooooooo. the hotel was ₹900/- for three of us and as basic as it could get and because we were just grateful to get a roof over our heads, filth was the least of our concern. With the basic dhaba meal we had, we were overtly satisfied and by the time we had all taken turns to use the washroom, it was close to 11:00PM. The reporting time for our bus was 4:00AM so the few hours of rest we were aiming for was quickly dwindling.

As groggy as we were, I was happy to be leaving the hotel. I was up later than Debbie and Sarju and I heard a lot of noises and also what sounded like an argument from downstairs and I even went to check the lock of the room. We didn’t see any other guests and it got me thinking about what I would’ve done if it were me alone. It reminded me of my short trip to Kolkata in 2015 when I was travelling along and the hotel (not even worthy of calling it a hotel to be fair!) was located in such a dodgy building and lane that every night, I would push the table and the chair against the door even after I locked it. ‘Paranoia will kill ya’ said someone but sometimes, it becomes your best defense.

Two hours into the journey, the weather took a turn. It was freezing. It didn’t matter that every window was shut. It was a chill that was unbearable. The fog looked heavier, there no sign of sunlight, there was snow and sheets of ice and there was light rain. We weren’t prepared for it. Except Sarju with her puffy Northface jacket. We mocked her but boy, at that point, we were envious. The journey post a breakfast stop turned pleasant and before you knew it, it even got hot. The change in topography was evident. The mountains were more rugged and rough, the water was sparkling blue, the colour of the rocks and soil were in unfamiliar shades and the sun looked closer.  One of the backpackers even began suffering from light AMS. The view on both sides were a stark contrast. One side would be lush and green while the other side was just a barren desert. The roads were for most parts well-made not like the Spiti roads but it didn’t mean that there were no bumps and knocks. In fact, it became a game for a bunch of people sitting in the last row to let out an “eyyyy” every time we hit a bump. We basically levitated.

The bus was nothing fancy if you’re wondering. It was a Himachal Pradesh government bus and the tickets cost ₹545/- per person so that meant picking up anyone on the road, travellers as well as locals with gas cylinders. Getting off and on the bus soon became a skill we had to master on the spot if we didn’t want to stamp on people’s bags and kids (really). The 13-hour journey was beginning to get on our nerves especially since we had been hopping on and off buses since the previous day so when we finally saw that we were entering Leh, we let out a sigh of relief.

Was it eventful? Immensely. Memorable? Exceedingly. Tiring? Excessively. But those two days of non-stop journeying created a thrill in the greater scheme our entire trip. We even had a supernatural scare in the middle of the trip which resulted to a nightmare for me. I wasn’t planning on recounting this story because… well, I doubt you’d believe it. But considering this created a certain tone of tension during our two-day passage, I might as well narrate it.

During the stop at Gramphu, Sarju and I were sitting across a bunch of bikers on the other side of the road and Sarju recognised the model of the bike and really liked it so she took a few pictures. I took some too, not of the bike, but of the whole scene in general. During the bus ride from Koksar to Keylong, Sarju was going through her pictures and suddenly let out a gasp. The picture she took of the bikes had an unwelcomed visitor within the frame. A man dressed in black. I would’ve normally said that she didn’t see the guy but I was there with her and clicking the same frame and there was no one from what I remember too. It was just the bike. We zoomed in to see the mystery figure and it wasn’t just our imagination. It WAS a man. The question was where did he come from? I should mention here that Sarju’s phone was recently fixed so we even thought that maybe there was a glitch and her phone was making stuff up (weak excuse but our tired selves couldn’t deal with supernatural things on top of everything else).

The pictures definitely gave us goosebumps and just made us feel uneasy. Was this some kind of omen? Was this a warning? Was this a sign that we shouldn’t be going forward with our trip? I think we each had some thoughts but refrained from sharing too much not wanting to scare each other more. We didn’t bring it up till we were at the hotel in Keylong. We decided to airdrop the pictures to my phone and see if this apparition would be seen on mine. It was clearer on my phone (because Sarju’s screen had an issue) and zooming in further, we could see that there was no face and because of the lighting (we assumed!), it created some deception in what were his eyes. It was just pure evil looking back at us. We weren’t terrified but it was just strange and that let us to deleted those pictures instantly. We just didn’t want it hovering around us, making us troubled and anxious. I get nightmares often so I wasn’t shocked when I got one in those few hours of sleep. I wouldn’t lie that I was uneasy throughout the trip after that. I tried blocking it out but till I reached Delhi, my guard was up. Nothing happened thankfully but I suppose sometimes your senses just plays tricks on you and there’s nothing you can do. I came to the conclusion that maybe I wouldn’t have been as careful had it not been for that incident. Debbie says that sometimes I’m just reckless and go looking for adventure which is masked as ‘trouble’. I think she may be right but considering that we were going to be separated after a few days, it was a warning for all of us to be extra careful.

I’m chalking this one down as experience for now but if I had a choice, I’d like to leave the supernatural out of any more travel experiences.

JULY 03, 2016

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