So from Pakistan I came into India. Every day there is a closing of the gate ceremony, which attracts people from both sides of the border. The whole ceremony looks very Pythonesque (Monty that is), so absurdly the border-officials parade and salute, it's totally ridiculous. What I found sad is that the people who watch let themselves be used by their government for this silly conflict and really hate the other side.

Amritsar was my first stop in India - for Sikh people this is their holy city. I kind of like these Santa Claus Indians. They are friendly and honest. Their place of worship is the Golden Temple. How much gold has been used for the temple I don't know, but its sight is magnificent (especially at night), so tranquil, it's lying in a big water tank. The tranquillity of the place almost makes you forget that in 1984, 2000 people were killed here in fights between militant Sikhs and the Indian army. Prime Minister, Indira Ghandi, who ordered the action, made one fatal and very stupid mistake: her bodyguards where also Sikhs.

After Amritsar, we went to Dharamsala, the place where the Dalai Lama hangs out since he was kicked out of Tibet by the Chinese. Since the start of the occupation in 1950, more then 1 million Tibetans have been killed, over 6000 monasteries have been destroyed and 46 % of the forests have been cut. But China is a big trading partner so that's okay. What I don't understand is that they have been chosen to host the Olympic games in 2008.
All the Tibetans who live in Dharamsala have fled Tibet by crossing the Himalayas - sometimes they walked for more then 1 month. Some suffered from frostbite and had their fingers and toes amputated.

From Dharamsala I went to Udaipur and from there to Mumbai. I met up with some friends, who I had met on my previous trip, and after that off to Goa. Here I could finally relax from high speed travelling. Just hanging on the beach and doing basically nothing. Unfortunately, there were not as many parties as 2 years ago. It was quite disappointing. One time at a party, I fell into a well. Luckily I managed to grab it with my arms and could lift myself out of it. I don't know deep it was, but my feet felt nothing.
In Goa I also heard the terrible news of the earthquake in Bam (this is, by the way, the place where they served me the pizza with the sausage - I hope this has nothing to do with it). It's very strange to realise that I had been there just less then 2 months ago and that most of the people who had been walking around then, were now dead. Really freaky.

I changed the Fred Flinstone scenery of Hampi for the laidback beaches of Gokarna. In Gokarna, days drift away like clouds (if there would be any). Here I heard the news that the bank, which was supposed to send my bankcard (which I lost 4 to 5 months ago in Romania), sent an empty envelope instead. There was no time anymore to send a new one to my friend who came over to India. I seriously think there is some great mysterious power who doesn't want me having my bankcard back. A strange feeling came over me, a feeling I hadn't felt for over 6 months: stress. Stress is not good, especially not when you are in a supposedly stress free place, like for instance a tropical beach. Luckily the stress didn't last long and I sank back in my relaxed travelling mood. I suppose the charash had something to do with that.

After Gokarna I went back to Anjuna to find the place (and especially the hotel I was staying in) taken over by all types of low-lifes. My neighbour for instance started and ended the day in a complete state of drunkenness. He's a British Indian who has a whisky shop in London. I could hear him mumbling in his room all the time. One night he set up a fight between a junkie (well at least he looked and acted like one) and Rocky (one of the regulars in the gurubar who is always involved in money getting lost). How he did it, I don't know. But he said to the junkie that he fucks his sister, or something in that category, and the junkie gets aggressive towards Rocky. Rocky who's talking with somebody, gets aggressive towards the junkie and almost smashes his face in with a bottle. But everything cools down and Rocky goes on talking to his partner like nothing happened.
Also I saw 2 French "la vie bas" - one who juggles with karate sticks and eats leftovers from other guests, but still has enough money to buy dope (life is all a matter of priorities) and the other one who clearly (well in his case, not so clearly probably) lost the way, even more then "Le Bruce Lee". Enormously fascinating to see all this, but time to move on.