[This morning, we were delighted to see this clipping in the local Imphal paper. It's fun (and a little bit eerie) to read people's speculation about our intentions here in India...]

Journal and photos by Nancy

Bear with me, if you will. Today is my journal day, but I am, again, swamped with a lot of other writing to accomplish. I spent the day working on the below press release. It didn't make the cut, but I think it's good enough for publishing here on our blog page. And, anyway, it'll explain some of what we accomplished by transiting Myanmar. --N.O.

MOREH, INDIA, Aug. 19, 2004--We have carnet stamps on our passports, which means we have officially crossed Myanmar, said LONGITUDE Expedition leader Nick yesterday.

His Drive Around the World non-profit organization?s third expedition is the only continuous overland journey to cross the former country of Burma in more than 50 years.

The eight-member volunteer team left northern Calif. Nov. 1 last year to begin a yearlong expedition around the world to raise money for Parkinson?s Disease research. Since then, they have traveled more than 22,000 miles across twenty countries and four continents to arrive here at the India/Myanmar border town of Moreh. Their longitude route brought them from the U.S. to the tip of South America, across Australia, and up through Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand, Cambodia, Laos, and China. By driving their four Certified Land Rover Discovery expedition vehicles across Myanmar from the Ruili, China, border in the west to the India border in the east, the team has placed their drive-a-thon in the history books.

This milestone comes with the sense of accomplishment that accompanies only the most hard-fought of achievements.

Myanmar is a country that is perhaps the most strict when it comes to tourism, and especially vehicle travel. Planning this has been my Moby Dick since the beginning, said Nick, 36, of Los Gatos, Calif.

Myanmar's arguable politics, its tourism restrictions, and a near absence of good, navigable roads have made it all but impossible for foreigners to drive their own vehicles across the country. Much of the difficulty lurks at the borders of this tiny, former British empire. The team spent one month in Bangkok visiting embassies and working with agents to prepare the intense paperwork for the China-Myanmar-India leg of their expedition. Transiting Myanmar hinged on the expedition?s success in first securing China permission, India permission, and finally Myanmar permission.

?s to Myanmar, it?s basically impossible to drive into! We ended up shipping
from Bangladesh to Malaysia, warned an expedition contact in an e-mail to Nick. His team didn?t even bother trying.

In 1953, a team of Cambridge University students drove two Series Land Rovers through Burma during a record-setting drive from London to Singapore. Their east-west crossing of Myanmar was the most difficult leg of their (however-long) journey.

In Feb. of this year, a Swiss couple was turned away at the China/Myanmar border in Ruili when their India Border permits failed to come through. They were forced to drive back through China to Bangkok in defeat.

Before that, Londoner David Burleson made it all the way across Myanmar to Tamu, Myanmar?s India border town, before he was denied entry to India for failure to obtain the required Protected Area Permits for that country. He left his car in Myanmar and returned to London.

Burleson was exploring shipping options when he found out about the Swiss couple?s intentions.

?I decided to wait and see if I could join up with another group who got the permit,? said Burleson. When the Swiss expedition failed, he began to give up hope. ?I was just hoping that something would turn up, and then [Drive Around the World] came along.?

When the LONGITUDE Expedition contacted him through networking channels, Burleson had his opportunity. Admittedly still skeptical, he bought a ticket to Yangon, Myanmar, and flew out when the team?s permits came through. Nick and his team met Burleson east of Mandalay and began driving together toward India.

But not even Drive Around the World was without its trials.

"Tomorrow from 2:00 p.m. to 6:00 p.m. China time will be the most difficult hours of our expedition", said Nick in an e-mail to supporters upon his team?s approach to the China/Myanmar border town of Ruili.

Their China carnets, or vehicle passports, were about to expire on their Land Rovers. A delay in the India permit office trickled over to a delay in obtaining Myanmar permits, and that meant the team would be in limbo in China for one week until their guide could meet them with their permits to drive into Myanmar. Because of their desire to prevent what had happened to Burleson from happening again, Myanmar officials abstained from stamping the vehicles into their country until they knew the convoy would not be turned away at the border to India.

"At this border, the traditional policy, when paperwork is not ready for Myanmar, is to force the group to turn back to the China point-of-entry which, for us, means they will force us to drive five days back to Laos," said Nick's Aug. 5 e-mail. ?I have read accounts of two groups who have recently experienced this most-frustrating case, and, without official paperwork, we are poised to be the third.?

The team reached the China/Myanmar border, amidst a cloud of uncertainty, on the day that their vehicle permits were to expire. The plan was to attempt to convince the Chinese to store the vehicles in impound while the team waited in China for their Myanmar paperwork to arrive.

Fate sided with the team, and they were greeted by smiling and accommodating Chinese customs officials and border police, who were more than happy to help a group of American adventure-philanthropists. The team was granted an extension to keep their vehicles in the country until their Myanmar transit permits were ready.

On Aug. 14, a joyful group cleared Chinese customs and met their Myanmar guides in the border town of Muse. That was the beginning of what they agree has been some of the most beautiful and most difficult driving they have experienced during nine-and-a-half months of world travel.

Their route brought them west along the historic Burma Road, past where it intersected with the old Stillwell Road, through the capital city of Mandalay, and north along the India-Myanmar Friendship Highway to India's border.

The Burma Road extends about 700 miles from the railhead of Lashio, Myanmar, to Kunming, the capital of Yunnan Province of China. Built by the Chinese as a military supply route in 1937-1938, it was used by the Allies during the early months of World War II. From its opening in 1938 to about May of 1942, more than 490 thousand tons of strategic materials, 10 thousand automobiles, and 90 thousand armed forces were transported to the front lines across rugged mountainous terrain.

In 1941, before the U.S. declared war on Japan, a small squadron of American fighter pilots, nicknamed the ?Flying Tigers? by the Chinese, secretly set up a base of operations in Kunming. While protecting supply planes and patrolling the Burma Road, the Flying Tigers flew their P-40 fighter aircraft back and forth over a portion of the very route the LONGITUDE team traveled.

In April 1942, the Japanese captured Lashio and closed the road. The Allies constructed an alternate supply route, which originated in Ledo, a railhead in Assam, India, and crossed northern Myanmar to connect to the Chinese portion of the Burma Road, named Stilwell Road in honor of the American general Joseph W. Stilwell. After the war, the road fell into disuse, and today it is overgrown impassable to vehicle traffic.

Crossing the point where the old Stilwell Road crosses the Burma Road, the team said they were struck by the area?s historic significance and America?s place in it. This area where young American fighter pilots used to patrol now rarely sees westerners. It is a country where ox-driven carts and big-wheeled steel bicycles are the standard means of conveyance. Water buffalo, not tractors and Peter Builts, are the primary beasts of burden.

The team relied on quick reflexes and well-honed driving skills to avoid bikes, chickens, dogs, children, and ox carts on the narrow roads. Beyond Mandalay, the crowded, narrow streets dwindled down to remote, bumpy dirt paths, and beyond those paths lay what amounted to mud slicks and switchbacks. It took the team 16 hours to travel one 160-mile stretch of ?good road? through Myanmar?s center.

?If this is the good road, I?d hate to see the bad one,? said team member Chanda, 32, of Visalia, Calif.

Along this year-old road that replaces a portion of the old Burma Road, the team had to perform more than six vehicle recoveries and await the repair of a bridge that had fallen as the result of heavy rains. The LONGITUDE team winched Burleson?s Isuzu Trooper once and towed it out of thick mud twice, winched a Burmese military Jeep that had become bogged down in the mire, and yanked a Chinese-built transport bus full of passengers on their way to Mandalay out of a muddy rut with their 9,000-lb. WARN winch.

?My heart is beating faster than it usually does,? said a team member after crossing a precarious bridge. ?That means it?s a good driving day.?

At 2:30 a.m., the team finally hit pavement at the start of the north-south India-Myanmar Friendship Highway, which was built by the Indian government. Beautifully paved, the narrow road is spotted with constant friendly reminders to drive safely. ?Better late than never,? read one. ?Driving with care makes accidents rare,? and ?Life is a journey; complete it,? read others. One that reads, ?Remember your wife and children; drive slow,? reminded the team?s two female members that women drivers in Myanmar are, indeed, a rarity.

In the remote backyards through which the team has traveled, everything about them is a rarity, from their flashy Land Rover Discoverys, to their language, to their physical appearance.

?I didn?t make anybody cry when I got out of the car today,? said team member Justin, 31, of Wichita, Kansas. At 6?3?, this blue-eyed blond is the physical opposite of his new Burmese friends.

The majority of people in the remote areas have likely never seen westerners before, and there is almost no chance they?ve ever seen one driving a personal vehicle.

?They?ll probably still be talking about you months from now,? said Mr. Chetry of Journeys tour company, the team?s Myanmar guide.

The team said they won?t soon forget Myanmar, either.

?I have a feeling several of us will be back,? said Chanda.

Next, the team will drive through Imphal, India, under armed escort, on their way to the flood-damaged state of Assam. From there, they will travel through the Himalayas to Kazakhstan and Russia, before making the home stretch through Alaska and Canada . They are due home in Los Gatos, Calif., in December.

P.S. - The sun rises early here, and this morning?s first light began at 4:30 a.m. The team completed some paperwork and exchanged money before departing under armed police escort. An early fuel stop took several hours, because the pumps were empty. The team had to filter the gas while siphoning it from a container to the tanks. The team entered the tribal area of India known as Nagaland in the evening. The settlers here are originally from Mongolia, and they were Christianized by American missionaries many years ago. They do not consider themselves a part of India, and they are struggling for independence. There has been a ceasefire for more than five years, but past insurgencies and their accompanying bloodshed make the area unsafe and volatile. We had to stop at the South Nagaland police station and apply for a Protected Area Permit to drive in this area, which is under police protection. We had a good time hanging out with the police and learning traditional folksongs and dances from them. They will remain with us throughout our stay in Nagaland. (N.O.)

Logbook for August 19, Day 293
Start: Imphal, India Time: 11:00 a.m. N: 24* 48.627 E: 93* 56.218	Finish: Kohima, India Time: 8:45 p.m. N: 25*39.445 E: 94* 05.881	Mileage: 000

[Above, Colin attempts a traditional Naga dance with his new friends. TT is to the right of Colin. Below, TT salutes in his new Land Rover Certified hat.]

Journal by Colin

Leaving Imphal with our escort, we began climbing the hills toward Nagaland, another completely untouristed area of India. As we crossed the border from Manipur to Nagaland, we picked up yet another military escort, who took us the final thirty or so miles to the city of Kohima, a rambling city sprawled across a huge valley, and the site of the spot where the English stopped the Japanese on their Indian advance. Nagaland is a fascinating area, inhabited, not by Indians, but by more than fifteen different tribal groups. Understandably, they want to break away from India, as they are definitely not Indians; they look more like Chinese people, and were one of the last groups of headhunters in the world. (They originally settled here from Mongolia.) I managed to pick up a sweet monkey skull headhunters necklace, which is probably the coolest thing I?ve purchased on this entire trip.

Our escort immediately took us to South Police Headquarters, where we were told by some very enthusiastic officers that we were ?being detained.? At first we were a little confused, not really knowing what to do. All these interesting guys were asking us questions and waving guns around, but after about half an hour when they pulled Neil out of the car and taught him how to do a Naga tribal dance, we realized that they were great guys.

Over the next two days, we developed a great friendship with the officers of the South Police Headquarters, as they guided us around their area to a bunch of stuff we didn?t really want to see that much, but were forced to visit anyway, like the war cemetery, which actually turned out to be very moving. Most notable of the crew were Yap and Titi, the second and third in command. Titi was a hilarious guy, basically a clown, always dancing, singing, and goofing around. He spent basically the entire weekend with us and was an endless source of amusement for us all. Yap was also a great guy, although a little harder to read that Titi. Yap was one of those guys who when you first meet him, you think he wants to punch your lights out, but then after some time you realize he?s really a great guy. We spent two nights hanging out with the guys, with Yap and Todd alternating on Neil?s guitar, rocking out to Beatles? songs. Leaving was sad, but as usual, it was a necessity, as Varanasi and Delhi called our name.

P.S. - After a paperwork delay in the morning, the team visited a hill tribe summit village, where 16 Naga tribes convene once a year for the ?Hornbill Festival.? After a quick lunch, the team visited a local market in Kohima before going to the war cemetery, which commemorates the victory of Indian, Nagan, UK, and U.S. troops against the invading Japanese Army in 1944. It was touching to see the plaques dedicated to the hundreds of young men who died in that battle. (N.O.)

Logbook for August 20, Day 294
Start: Kohima, India (Nagaland) Time: 10:45 a.m. N: 25* 39.445 E: 94* 05.881	Finish: Kohima, India Time: 6:00 p.m. N: 25* 39.445 E: 94* 05.881	Mileage: 015

[A street sign warning wives to keep quite so their husbands can drive lends insight to the frequency with which women in India actually sit behind the wheel themselves. Nancy and Chanda receive many curious looks when people see a Discovery expedition vehicle being piloted by a woman.]

Journal by Nancy

Completed crossing of Nagaland and bid our escorts a sad farewell at the border with Assam. The team continued to Guwahti, dodging such obstacles as cows, goats, bikes, chickens, buses, trucks, pedicabs, and people. In Guwahati, the team met up with Take Me With You! guest Matt Candelaria, who will be our teammate for the next month or so. Welcome aboard, Matt. You?re a breath of fresh air! (N.O.)

Logbook for August 21, Day 295
Start: Kohima, India Time: 6:30 a.m. N: 25* 39.445 E: 94* 05.881	Finish: Guwahati, India Time: 7:40 p.m. N: 26* 103.798 E: 91* 44.898	Mileage: 255

[Roads here in India are ridiculous. The going is slow, because obstacles are rampant. Hazards include bomb-crater-sized potholes, speed bumps, bicycles, ox carts, sacred cows, goats, tuk-tuks, pedicabs, kids, people pooping on the road, buses and trucks and cars coming right at you in YOUR lane, and people drying corn in the middle of the road.]

Journal by Take Me With You! guest Matt Candelaria

Hello all, this is Matt Candelaria, drive around the world take me with you guest Number 13. Lucky me. The drive around the world team instructed me to head for Guwahati, India, on the 18th of August. They tell me they should arrive to pick me up on that day at the earliest, but probably a few days later. Turns out a few days later is more correct. I guess they have been having a hard time driving through Myanmar and the Manipur/Assam states of India. They have warned me they might not be able to get to Guwahati because of all the monsoon flooding, so I am of course worried. My only way of contacting them is via email every day, so the Internet cafe is my friend. It is also a way for
me to reach back to the world old world I knew only a few days ago. This is my first trip to India, and it is truly a different place. I am also very afraid of strange foods, so I am not happy. I seem to have found comfort in Lays potato chips and Coca Cola. The last few days have been chips and Coke for breakfast/lunch, and a roll of the dice for dinner at the various "nicest" hotels that seem to have some attempts at international cuisine. One has some Chinese food that I am finding tasty. I continued my wait, and finally three
days later on Sunday evening the team arrived. The car doors slamming in the parking area below my hotel room woke me, and now this wonderful journey is about to begin for me. I can't wait!

P.S. - Team rolled early to begin marathon haul to Varanasi. Team made good time in the early morning, but pace slowed later in the day. At one point, we mistook a man sleeping on the road for a dead body. Nick led a small team to the border of Bhutan while others drove on to Guwanat. Team witnessed recent flood damage in Assam, including villages underwater and displaced civilians living in makeshift shacks along the roadside. (N.O.)

Logbook for August 22, Day 296
Start: Guwahati, India Time: 6:20 a.m. N: 26* 103.798 E: 91* 44.898	Finish: Siliguri, India Time: 8:37 p.m. N: 26* 43.969 E: 88* 24.716	Mileage: 276

[Rambo, err, I mean, Neil, gets rowdy with a weapon in India. This Marine has never been so scared. Muzzle awareness, Neil! Muzzle awareness!]

[Neil and his new best friend, TT, from Nagaland. These two were inseparable!]

Journal by Neil

Now I feel like we are in India!! We have been in "India" for many days now, yet we were in the two states of Manipur and Nagaland, which are not very "Indian" at all. The ancestry of the people who live in those states is from Mongolia and the greater China area. They do not have Indian customs or blood and are very different, which is why they are fighting for their freedom from India. I really grew to adore Nagaland, especially since we became really good friends with the military police there and had some fantastic times. Titi, one of the Nagaland police chiefs, was a hilarious character, and I already miss him. He convinced me to become a military officer myself, and it seemed to fit my personality quite well, especially with a fat gun in my hand!!

But that was then, and this is now. We entered the state of Assam a couple days ago, and have been driving across it very slowly. Once we came out of the mountains of Nagaland, we entered the flat and partly flooded plains of Assam. Once we crossed the border, India was in our face and has been ever since. It is difficult to describe India in words that really do it justice; you really need to come here and experience it first hand.

First of all, if you think driving in the city during rush hour traffic is bad, try to imagine all those cars being replaced by thousands of people, cows, dogs, pigs, auto rickshaws, dust, squatters on the side of the road pooping, potholes, and no lines or organization. And to top it off, everyone and every animal in the road doesn't pay any attention to a horn or a huge truck barreling down the road. We constantly see semi trucks zoom past a cow sitting in the middle of the road, and the truck literally comes within inches of the cow's nose, yet the cow does not even blink an eye. They just sit there, hummm deee duummmmm, dooo dahhhhhh. The people are no better, and it is really scary. When I am driving, I have to keep my hand on the horn and honk it non stop just to get somebody who is standing on the side of the road from walking right in front of me. Someone will be walking down the road, and right before you pass, they turn and cross the street right in front of you. It has happened already a few times; once a biker veered right into the side of our car. Luckily he pushed himself off and we were going slow. It is nuts!

The people and crowds are like the ocean, and they come in waves. Between towns, there are a lot of people and animals on the roads. Within towns, they are so crowded that there is very little road that you can even see!! You have to trickle down the streets, almost slower than people are walking. It never ends, and we have to be extremely cautious 100% of the time. It is so hilarious I just sit back and laugh because it is so ridiculous. I have never experienced anything like it. There are no rules, and it doesn't even matter what side of the road you are on. There are trucks coming right towards you in your lane, and vice versa. It is completely wild. In one day, we counted about nine trucks that had toppled over and off the side of the road. The Indian drivers are crazy and drive extremely fast and come close to hitting one another constantly. It is not a surprise to see this amount of accidents.

The road itself is quite interesting, too. It is just a single road that is elevated about six feet from the rest of the surrounding area, so there is no room for error. You have to avoid all the people, animals, trucks, and potholes, and not veer a foot too far to one side or you are going over the edge and flipping your vehicle. Another major problem right now that is making the roads very difficult to navigate is the fact that Assam just had the worst flooding they have had in 15 years. During much of our drive, the whole countryside was still flooded, and people's houses were in water, and all the inhabitants were living in shacks on the skinny little road that we were driving on. It is a really sad situation, with people losing their crops and trying to get enough food to eat. The situation has definitely gotten better in the last month. It hasn't rained too much lately, but a month ago it was disastrous. Millions were displaced and there was starvation, death, and very bad disease spreading. I really cannot imagine what it was like a month ago.

Another reason this road is very dangerous is that we are on the main trucking route, so it is filled with heavy trucks and buses, all carrying the signs on the back saying, "Honk Horn" or "Horn Do." That is the protocol for passing one another: to honk your horn and let the guy know you are passing. You really need to honk and keep honking and pray while you pass, because half the time they still cut you off or start veering into your lane to avoid hitting a pothole. They don't seem to care if they are heading straight at you, in your lane, or right next to you. If there is a pothole, they will swerve right into you to avoid it. So yes, the India roads are definitely, without a doubt, the most dangerous roads we have been on. They are so dusty, it is really difficult to see as well, and everywhere you look, there is mayhem, even when you are looking out your rearview mirror! In fact, even when you are stopped at train tracks, it is a funny experience. Today, while we were waiting for a train to pass, a little boy came up to us and showed us his Cobra!! "Cobra, cobra, cobra, cobra!!!!" He kept yelling "cobra" at us the entire time, even when we were rolling away. I guess he wanted some money or food for showing us his cobra. We obliged.

Today while we were driving, we ended up slowing down to a convoy of trucks that ended up being miles long. We went on the other side of the road and started passing them all slowly to see what the hold up was. We passed hundreds of trucks. It was extremely dusty, and we finally had to stop and wait, as there was nowhere to go. On either side of us, the ground was completely flooded for as far as you could see, and apparently, there was a bridge out ahead. We heard many different reports as to whether the bridge was 10 km ahead or 50 km ahead, and we were not going to wait around in this line, miles and miles long, of huge trucks in the baking heat. And as luck would have it, if we backtracked 20 miles east, then headed south a bit, we could then pass this flooded area on the south end. This was part of the Ganga river that had overflowed into a huge estuary. The sun was getting low, and we ended up in a small town filled with thousands of people. We slowly crept along until we found a hotel and parked, ate some food and all passed out from exhaustion. We have been getting up at 4:30 a.m. to drive all day, every day lately. In all of India, they set the time to Dehli time, and since we are in the north east, the sun is coming up extremely early. We are making as much use of the sunlight as we can, since driving at night is almost suicide.

India is quite a different place, and I love it. There is so much to see and take in everywhere. While we are driving, it is difficult to pay attention to the roads since there are so many beautiful people and sights to see. Everywhere we stop, children and elders crowd us and stare at us with a very strange look. They are obviously not used to seeing foreigners cross the state of Assam, and only a select few even speak any English. We are still in a territory that most travelers don't visit, and it is very apparent. I am sure in another day or two when we get to Varanasi that will all change. For the time being, I will just soak in and enjoy the remote, jam-packed Indian countryside.

Neil

P.S. - Team continued west, mindful of forecasted rain/flooding to the south. Road conditions along 31 continued to deteriorate, and eventually the team?s progress was halted by a 10-km backup where monsoons had washed away the road. The team identified an alternate route, and after backtracking about 20 km, took a better road around the floods. The team is holed up in a grubby little hotel and enjoying a good dinner. (N.O.)

Logbook for August 23d, Day 297
Start: Siliguri, India Time: 7:00 a.m. N: 26* 43.969 E: 88* 24.716	Finish: Bhagalpur, India Time: 8:00 p.m. N: 25* 15.043 E: 86* 59.328	Mileage: 186

[Evidence of a devastating monsoon season. We saw hundreds and hundreds of displaced civilians who are now living along the road in temporary makeshift shacks.]

Journal by Nancy

The team made the final push to Varinasi today. Despite witnessing even more devastating flood damage than in previous days, the road conditions improved. The team drove all day and encountered periodic bouts of heavy monsoon rains. As we get further into India, the obstacles on the roads increase, and the driving days get harder. (N.O.)

Logbook for August 24th, Day 298
Start: Bhagalpur, India Time: 5:30 a.m. N: 25* 15.043 E: 86* 59.328	Finish: Varinasi, India Time: 11:15 p.m. N: 25* 19.587 E: 82* 59.343	Mileage: 300

Images of a few of the awesome people we have met in India, so far:

Journal by Todd

[Curious boys who live in shacks in a flood-damaged area near the Ganges.]

[A neighbor of the boys pictured above.]

[Another boy whose home was flooded by the overflowing Ganges.]

[This boy and his friends show motorists their cobras and then ask for money.]

25 August

After driving hard for the last couple of days, it was nice not to have to get up at the crack of dawn and get on the road. What was more important was to find an Internet cafˇ so we could catch up on some work and e-mail that we had been neglecting somewhat since we lost regular e-mail connection upon entering Myanmar.

The sun was hot, and the town was bustling as I first set foot outside the hotel. Clutching a bag of dirty laundry, I had something more important than e-mail to attend. As I passed from the safety of the hotel gates and onto the general streets, my attention was sought by about five different Indians trying to be as helpful as they could. They had answers for everything, and they always knew where you could get things cheaper (at their brother?s shop), or they knew of the perfect tour for you. They would walk down the street with you and just keep talking to you, figuring the longer they talked to you the more likely you would be to buy something from them or their brother.

Not trusting anyone, I feel like a fullback, plowing through the line and hoping to get to the goal line still on my feet. Getting away is not easy, as they are much better conditioned to dodge the steady stream of chaotic traffic that flows down almost any street in India. The rule is, if it moves, it will probably be on the road in India: cows, goats, rickshaws, motorcycles, scooters, bikes, bicycle rickshaws, people of all ages, dogs, chickens, buses, trucks, and the list goes on.

It is wild just walking by cows and bulls that are casually milling around in the road. With no ropes or anything, they are free to mill around in the rural or urban areas. They don?t seem to spook very easily. I have seen buses bearing down on them, only to see them hold their ground, turn their head, and dare the bus to hit them. What is crazy is, there is not just an occasional cow or bull, but there are a lot of them on the roads and alleys. Yesterday, while driving, I had to push a bull out of my way. I drove up to him, he looked back, and I idled forward and shoved him with my trusty bull guard front bumper. I have even patted them while slowing driving by; you have to see it to believe it!

India is a wild place; it seems to be so different than China. The reason I bring up China is the fact that China is the only other country that has more than one billion people. How do governments deal with such large numbers of people? China seems so ordered, and India so chaotic, but at the end of the day there seems to be some kind of order within the Chaos in India. Maybe the next couple of weeks will reveal some answers.

The rest of the day was spent working on computers and setting up our upcoming visit to Delhi. Meanwhile, I was looking forward to seeing the true heart of Varanasi, as we are scheduled to go on a boat ride down the sacred river Ganges. We will also see the funeral rites in this holy town of Vishnu. There is a lot in store for us here and much to learn.

--Todd

P.S. - We?re enjoying a much-needed rest day here in Varinasi. There hasn?t been a whole lot of action here, so far. The city is quite noisy and smelly, and Nancy and Chanda cannot go anywhere alone. It?s just too iffy for women to walk around without escort. The men probably aren?t even safe here at night...We promise to be careful and to stick together. Tomorrow, we will be filming a trip on the river to see the ghats where they burn bodies. (N.O.)

Logbook for August 25th, Day 299
Start: Varinasi, India Time: N/A N: 25* 19.587 E: 82* 59.343	Finish: Varinasi, India Time: N/A N: 25* 19.587 E: 82* 59.343	Mileage: 000

[Boats await the morning greetings of their boatmen, who paddle them up and down the ganges hauling goods and tourists along the Ganges River in Varinassi.]

Neil smiles into the camera while bodies burn in the Ghat behind him on the banks of the Ganges River in Varinasi.

This pile of wood in Varinasi is used to burn bodies along the banks of the Ganges River.

The water of the Ganges River in Varanasi is like poison to foreigners, but those who grew up with it can drink it, swim in it, and bathe in it with no ill effects. It is full of dead humans and animals and septic waste.

[Journal and photos by Nancy]

Our day began before the sun came up. The film crew had instructed us to meet in the lobby at 0445 to head down to the Ganges for some filming. We were met outside by our resident old taxi man who had stationed himself outside our hotel gates the moment we arrived in our four rich-looking Land Rovers. Each day he asked us if he could please take us somewhere in his auto rickshaw, and each day we refused: until today.

The relentless cabby and two of his fellow auto rickshaw owners smiled as the nine of us piled into the backseats of their three tiny taxis. We were headed to the banks of the Ganges (or Ganga) River to witness first-hand its role in the Hindu religion, and we wanted to be there for the rising of the sun. Unfortunately, the day was overcast, and it even shed a few tiny droplets on us as we stepped out of the rickshaws.

Because our participation in this ?mandatory fun? event was a film crew requirement, they were paying for it, and that meant we had to play witness to the serious business of Adam and his haggling routine. The filmies had arranged for us to meet a kindly guide fellow there (he had shown them around the previous day), and he was there to help with the haggling. Each boat pilot wanted 250 rupees or more to take us down the river and back. The Lonely Planet that Adam had read said a boat should not cost more than 50 rupees. The boat pilots argued that this was the rainy season, and that the flooded river made handling the boat extremely difficult, and perhaps even a little dangerous. It would take three or four boaties to take the nine of us down river and back. They could not budge on price.

So, Adam let them know he wasn?t going to be taken advantage of (anyway, he?d been to Varanasi before and had never paid such exorbitant fees), and he walked from boat guy to boat guy trying to find one who would listen to reason. Finally, after what seemed like 20 minutes or more, and after walking through the poopy, filthy streets of putrescence which are a hallmark of the city of Varanasi, we finally found a nice young boatie who agreed to take us for a price that was palatable to Adam (I forget what it was, but we all agreed to pitch in, and we were just happy to be getting into a doggone boat).

As we floated past the ?burning ghat?, we were warned not to take any pictures or film of it. See, this is where the Hindu people come to dip their deceased loved ones into the Ganges before setting them on fire amongst a pile of wood on the burning ghat to pass on to the next world. They believe that if you die in Varinassi, on the Ganges, your soul will be released from the never-ending cycle of reincarnation and death and go straight to Nirvana. That?s a big relief, because you never know who or what you might be reincarnated as after death. (As a side note, Hindus believe cows are sacred, and they believe that they are reincarnations of deceased aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, children, or other relatives. They do not eat beef. Cattle roam the streets and alleys like they own them, and nobody bothers them in the least.) Supposedly, way back in the day, one of the important goddesses accidentally dropped an earring into the water of the Ganges right there in Varanassi, and that is where they placed the burning ghat so many thousands of years ago. That?s why the Ganges here holds so much power.

People come down to the banks of the Ganges every day to bathe and swim, do their laundry, and drink in the brown water. Chanda once read a study in the Lonely Planet that showed that a sample of Ganges water contains somewhere around 1.5 MILLION fecal coliforms per milliliter of water, and the amount considered acceptable for human consumption is a mere 500, if that tells you anything. One sip of this water by a Westerner like you or me could kill us, sending us into a vomiting sickness that could incapacitate us and wipe us out entirely. But the people who grew up here have a colony of bacteria living in their bellies that protects them from the ill effects of the Ganges. They drink the stuff.

During our boat ride, we floated past a dead, bloated baby floating downstream. It almost didn?t look real, because of the bloating and decomposition that had occurred. That was our first dead baby. Not all dead Hindus are thrown into the Ganges; most are burned. But those who are pure, meaning those who are 14 years of age or younger, or mothers with innocent fetuses in their bellies, are dumped into the water without first being burned. The impure are burned to release their impurities, or something like that.

The boatmen floated us past several other ghats, where people were swimming, bathing, and washing clothes. I know it?s crude to mention it, but we also saw several men pooping along the river banks, and pile after pile of less-fresh poo were spied all along these poop-encrusted shores. Let me tell you, seeing a grown man pooping can change a person forever.

Eventually, the boatmen did an about face and strained against the oars to fight the flood current. We kept close to the banks, where the flow was at its lowest, and still we had to get out of the boat at a difficult section in order to get around a flooded temple. On the way back, we saw a floating object wrapped in white cloth, and I realized with horror that it?s head was exposed, both eyes staring right out me through a cloudy white film. A raven was sitting on it, pecking at its flesh. Thank goodness, it turns out this corpse, which we immediately thought was another baby, was actually a monkey. Whew! I don?t think I could have handled dead baby eyes. We also saw a dead and bloated cow, a dead baby caught in an eddy near some boats, and an unidentifiable corpse floating off in the distance with a big bird pecking away for his breakfast.

Not one of us will soon forget that boat ride.

After the boat ride, we walked over to the burning ghat because, for some reason, a few of the gang wanted to get a closer look. I warned everyone to hold their breath if they don?t want any dead people in their lungs. On the ghat were piles of burning wood and bodies, and below was a newer body, it?s skull, ribcage, and backbone clearly visible?and nothing else. The bodies burn down to ashes and a few small bones, and then they are sifted through by the ghat workers. Hindus are burned with their clothing and jewelry on, so the workers search for the jewelry, and anything that is found is given to the foreman, who then sells it to tourists. Families who carry their loved ones there to be burned help or watch as the body is dipped one last time in the Ganges and then set afire. They stay to watch it burn, and then, once there is nothing left but ash, they break a clay urn filled with ganges water over the ashes and depart. Mission accomplished.

While we were there, we could see all sorts of identifiable bone pieces, and we were told that the hip bones and the chest are the slowest to burn. This will gross out many of my readers, so take caution. You may want to bail out now: There was a yellow dog at the ghat who was sifting through the bones. I watched him closely, and eventually he found a piece of bone that still had some charred flesh remaining. He laid down with his prize and gnawed away at what looked like a foot, or something. Eventually, a worker chased him off. As we exited the ghat, I saw that same dog in the sidewalk, finishing up his bone. He walked off, and a man took a tin cup of water and washed the remaining crumbs of flesh and bone into the drainage ditch. All in a day?s work.

Later, we learned that old people with no families come here to await death, and we visited some old women living near the burning ghat. Good Hindus visit them on occasion to feed them, take care of them, give them money, and provide them with companionship. They get good kharma for that, so maybe it?ll help them in their next life. We gave the ladies we visited some money and flashlights, and they seemed pleased.

As we tiptoed gingerly through the cow dung, human feces, rotting vegetables, and rubbish heaps, we reflected on the sights and experiences of the day. India has more than a billion people, and we have seen a good number of them. In areas like this, the plague still exists, and people suffer from and even die from afflictions that would hardly faze first-world nations. Yet, feed a drop of Ganges water to an American, and you would soon hear the sound of death or debilitation knocking at the door. Go figure.

P.S. - Friends, family, followers...We're in Varanasi, India, on the poop-encrusted banks of the Ganges River. Today we saw dead bodies burning and floating. Cow, goat, and human feces litters the streets and river banks. This town is crazy. The people are nice. We have a lot of updating to do on these journals, and I apologize for the delay. Will post more very soon. Everybody is doing very well. Nobody is sick, yet.(N.O.)

Logbook for August 26th, Day 300
Start: Varanasi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Finish: Varanasi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Mileage: 295

[A very dignified man poses for a photo in the yard of the Taj Mahal.]

Journal by Colin, photo by Nancy

So, here I am in India. We left Varanasi at 5 a.m., and I am currently in the back seat of our vehicle en route to Agra, home of the Taj Mahal, the greatest monument to love ever built. It?s raining on and off, and we have somewhere between five and ten more hours of driving ahead of us.

I think India is the one country where it is better to drive in the rain, basically because all the Indians, cows, goats, and assorted riffraff stay inside instead of cluttering the roads and making life miserable for those driving it. In fact, I think rain actually doubles the speed at which you can travel from an average of 20 m.p.h to 40.

Yesterday was an interesting day; we got up at four, which in India has become the norm for us, and headed out on a shoot with the team. We headed down to the Ganges and rented a boat for a sunrise cruise. There we saw all the expected things one might see on the Ganges: bloated floating dead bodies of people and animals, assorted carrion-eating birds, people bathing and brushing their teeth in that same water, and probably about three hundred people pooping on the river banks, which for some reason we all found hilarious. After that, we took the team to the burning ghat to see and learn about the cremations, which they hadn?t experienced the day before.

Once the shoot was over, I took off and did some shopping. I eventually ended up in a silk store, where Neil, Adam, and I had a blast with the guys that worked there. I ended up with a bag full of purchases, including a disguise for Kashmir (see top photo), and a cool custom made gift for my moms. I hope she likes it because it was rather expensive.

By the time I was done with all that I was extremely tired, I crawled into my musty bed (all beds in India are musty) and curled up with my current tome of choice East of Eden, by Steinbeck, which by the way, I am heartily enjoying. By nine I was asleep, only to once again be woken up at the crack of dawn by that all-too-familiar-by-now hotel desk wake up call.

P.S. - We arrived in Agra, home of the Taj Mahal, this evening. Tomorrow, I (Nancy) will update this webpage, and the others will visit the Taj Mahal. We all will have a photo shoot there at sunrise or sunset. The drive here was quite difficult, because driving in India is indescribably hectic. Sooo many obstacles on the roads. Potholes, people, bicycles, sacred cows, goats, kids, people pooping, trucks coming right at us in our lane...So our average speed is really low. We just can't travel very far each day, even when we get up to leave at sunup. Everybody is doing well. Adam is our first bad-water casualty (don't worry, Georgina, he's alright!), and we're sure to have more. We'll keep you informed. Photos and journals are coming soon. Apologies, but Internetting is quite difficult here. (N.O.)

Logbook for August 27th, Day 301
Start: Varinasi, India Time: N: E:	Finish: Agra, India Time: N: E:	Mileage: ???

[Above, the most popular photo of the Taj. Below, the real photo experience of the Taj. For whatever reason, Indians LOVE photos of complete strangers (Western strangers, that is.).]

Journal by Nancy

Adam is feeling better. Much of the team visited the Taj Mahal today, and others tried in vain to do some Internetting. Agra is nicer than Varinasi, though it is still pretty grim. Nothing is new here. Nothing. The weather is super-hot and oppressive. We leave tomorrow for Delhi, which is a much bigger and richer city. (N.O.)

Logbook for August 28th, Day 302
Start: Varinasi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Finish: Agra, India Time: N/A N: E:	Mileage: ???

[On the way to Delhi, we stopped at our first Indian McDonald's. Can't say we enjoyed it too much. Everything was spicy and, well, just weird. No beef eating in this country, so they have a Maharaja Mac instead of a Big Mac. I think it's chicken...or mutton...]

Journal and photo by Matt Candelaria

Well, here we are on Sunday again. I end up going to the Taj Majal again with Chanda and Nancy, because, what the heck? They really stick it to the foreign folks
for $17 dollars a person. I figure this is once-in-a-lifetime stuff so I am trying to ignore costs as much as possible. Turns out this is terribly easy here in India, with the value of the Rupee to the Dollar. I quickly pack around noon time and grab yet another Pizza Hut pizza (such a wonderful thing to find some normal food), and we are off to do some sort of photo shoot before we leave Agra for Delhi. We end up along the River with the Taj Majal in the background and, lucky us, the D1 starts running rough. Turns out one of
the plug wires is failing and we need to fix it. We find a nice bit of shade off the side of the road, and of course the entire world is there to watch. At this point, the Agra journalist that was doing the photo shoot needs to leave, but before he does, he warns us to be careful because this is not a safe area. I have been put on guard-the-tools duty, and let me tell you we needed someone watching over things. There were a half dozen kids poking and prodding at everything. At one point I catch one of them with his hand inside the car. The very same little kid I catch climbing on top of D1. He just will not go away. I am watching him very closely, and while Nick is somewhat distracted making Iridium phone calls this little fella has his eyes staring directly at his pockets. It seems clear
that these kids are up to no good, especially this one little fella. One of the other kids motions towards one of the other children and says "pick pocket"; now I know there is concern. Nick is now starting to get fed up with these little brats and keeps trying to get
the kids to go away. Nothing seems to work, and he finally grabs a can of WD-40 and sprays it towards them. Not AT them, but in their general direction. This seems to work for the most part. I now stand guard with the WD-40 can, and it seems to keep them at bay, at least 10 feet away or so. Looks like we managed not to loose anything, at least this time.

P.S. - We were planning on leaving between noon and one, but a fouled cyllinder on D1 prevented that. The problem is most likely a result of bad gas. We fiddled with it for several hours and eventually had to arrange a tow to the Land Rover service center in Delhi. The vehicles require a flat-bed truck for transport, and Justin searched until he found one. It was a bit of a tight fit, so we removed the Santa Cruz mountain bike, and we held our breath. Nick had to climb out through the driver's window, because it was too narrow to open the doors. We lashed everything down and rigged it so the vehicle wouldn't hit the side walls on the bumpy roads, and then we left. We hit a McDonald's along the way (It was already dark and well-past dinner time by now.). They just don't do Micky D's the here the same as they do it in the U.S. The Chicken McGrill was too spicy for wimpy nancy to eat. The truck was slow, and it took a while to find a loading ramp for the off-load, so the recovery crew was up all night. Everybody's at the YMCA now and working hard on various tasks. Today was a long day. Oh, and we even did a photo shoot for a local newspaper. (N.O.)

Logbook for August 29th, Day 303
Start: Agra, India Time: N/A N: E:	Finish: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Mileage: ???

[Unity is our strength... They all struggle down the crowded streets together, as one...]

Journal and photo by Neil

Wow, I must say, arriving in New Dehli is like nowhere else in India we have seen before. There are traffic lights, nice vehicles on the road, Mc Donald's, TGI Fridays, Ruby Tuesdays, shopping malls, upscale hotels, and fewer cows and less mayhem in the roads. In fact, we arrived at 3:30 a.m., so there weren't any vehicles on the road. It is like stepping back into America, well.... sort of. There are still tons of Indian people running around and constantly trying to sell me something or beg for money or food, and you still have to watch your step for cow dung. It also really depends on where you decide to go. You can go to Cannought Place, which is a big circle in New Dehli that has all kinds of pubs and nice restaurants to eat at, or you can go to Old Dehli and many of the various markets and step into small alleyways filled to the brim with people selling silks, saris, antiques, jewelery, pipes, and whatever your heart desires. Old Dehli takes you right back into the heart of the Indian lifestyle that resembles the rest of India we have visited so far. The streets are filled with so much traffic, people, and rickshaws, that it just all stands still together......I guess that is what they mean by unity here in India?

We are staying at the YMCA, and it is an alright place. Your breakfast and dinner are included in the price you pay for staying there, which is pretty steep, and they still charge you 100 rupees to use the gym or pool. Every morning you can hear whistles blowing and people doing their exercises with their swim caps in the pool. It is just a few blocks away from Cannought Place.

The rickshaw drivers here are pretty good at trying to rip you off. The trick is to get in without negotiating a price, and when the ride is over, just give them what you think is fair, and then walk away and don't look back. It has worked every time for us, although the ladies have more trouble with it than we do.

Today, I spent most of the day lying on the cement floor of the Land Rover dealer about 45 minutes outside of Dehli. Justin, Adam, and I were waiting around all day for an itemized list of all the work that needs to be done on the vehicles. The problem is that one of our vehicles is at another site, and that is where the information was being delivered from, yet their fax and email wasn't working. So they eventually called and we sorted it out. I was feeling terrible, had a minor fever and the runs, so lying on the floor was the best remedy. India has had its fair share of sending me to the bathroom. I always knew coming here would give me the runs, and it sure has. I haven't had anything real serious, just super hot burning fire liquid streamline poops every now and then!!!

So now that we are in Dehli, we have some time to chill here and get a lot of work done. I have to edit tons of photos and catch up on all kinds of emails. We are getting our visas sorted out and taking care of the vehicles as well. Justin is running around getting the press lined up, too, so we have our work cut out for us. I will go and explore Dehli in the coming days. Until then, enjoy yourselves and next time you go pinch a loaf, smile for me and appreciate how good and solid you have it.

Neil

P.S. - Because some of the team stayed up all night with vehicles last night, today was a recovery day. We did manage to do some work and a little sightseeing, so that's good. Delhi is a nice city, and it's good to be away from the squalor. The problem is that this YMCA doesn't have A/C. I mean, who builds a hotel in the hottest place on Earth and doesn't install A/C? :) Laaaater. (N.O.)

Logbook for August 30th, Day 304
Start: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Finish: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Mileage: 000

[Nancy spoke to this nice Seik Muslim near the Taj Mahal. He owns a radiator repair shop. People of his religion can be seen throughout the streets of Delhi, too. Their religion varies greatly from the Hindu religion of many of the other Indians here.]

Journal and photo by Nancy

Still chillin' in Delhi. Actually, there's nothing "chill" about it. It's blazing hot here, and we don't have A/C in our rooms. We sweat in our sleep. Yuck. While here, we work, sweat, sightsee, sweat, and sleep. But life is good. (N.O.)

Logbook for August 31st, Day 305
Start: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Finish: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Mileage: 000

[Justin poses with an Indian cowboy at "Rodeo" restaurant in Delhi, where the team celebrated Chanda's birthday.]

Journal by Todd

Delhi is certainly a bustling city. Actually, I am quite impressed with how spread out it is. I have continued to work on visa acquisitions, so much of my time has been spent going to and from embassy row here in Delhi. Embassy row is beautiful! Large, expansive compounds with manicured lawns, flowers and trees. It is not easy to walk from one embassy to the next, as they are so big. It is a pleasant switch from the horns, crowds, and hawkers of Connaught Place.

Although Embassy row is nice, it will be much nicer to finish our business there. Completion of this business will mean that we can freely finish the Asian leg of our journey. All of these visas make me long for the Americas, where visas were never required. All we had to do was show up at a border, and they would stamp us in and out with out any problem.

In Asia, we find ourselves paying hundreds of dollars, per person, to be admitted to countries. What makes matters difficult is that some of these countries require exact dates of arrival and departure. This isn?t so difficult if you are arriving by plane, but when you are trying to project where you are going to be in two months on a vehicle expedition, things are a lot tougher (floods, vehicle problems, Maoist rebels, etc). We are managing, but the logistics become quite complicated. We seek all the flexibility we can but are forced to work within the system when necessary.

Only a few more visas to go, and I will hang up my visa hat, and none too soon.

After doing visa detail, I switched back to working on Parkinson?s Disease awareness. I met with Dr. Maduri Behari today. She is the Head Neurologist at All India Institute of Medicine (AIIMS). I was able to get in touch with her by a contact given to me by our friend, and champion, Mr. Sabharwal.

Ever since we left Bangkok, I had been chasing down Parkinson?s leads in India. I found several organizations, but they had all been in the South of India. I have e-mailed and phoned organizations and doctors all over India, but because of bad or unused e-mail addresses, changed phone numbers, or other limiting complications, I was never able to talk to anyone within the Parkinson?s disease community, that is until now.

Dr. Behari was great; we had a fantastic meeting. She told me of how she decided to become a neurologist, and she discussed the local Parkinson?s organization PRAN (Parkinsonisms and Related Disorders Awareness Network) here (and lamented the fact information about it was not yet available on the net). She told me why so many people wanted to cover it up, and she invited me to her weekly clinic on Saturday. It was great that she took the time to meet with me. You can read more about the interview soon on the Parkinson?s page.

The evening ended with a team meeting to discuss the upcoming schedule, expedition updates, and what needs to be done between now and when we leave Asia.

After the meeting, the team finally got around to celebrating Chanda?s ?29th? birthday at a place called Rodeo. The team ate Indian tacos and burritos (no beef available) served by Indians wearing cowboy gear. It was surreal, but a perfect way to celebrate. Now we have celebrated every single team member?s birthday while on the road. If we don?t hurry up and get home, Neil will get a double doozie.

P.S. - We've been celebrating Chanda's birthday for several days now. (Her real birthday is the 27th of August.) Tonight, we went to a Tex-Mex place (the only one in India, I think) called Rodeo. There, you can eat yummy tacos served by Indians in Cowboy outfits. Cowboys and indians? I think not. Just cowboys...or Indians impersonating cowboys. Life is good...and Chanda is 29...again... (N.O.)

Logbook for September 1st, Day 306
Start: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Finish: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Mileage: 000

[Much of Todd?s time is spent visiting embassies and attempting to get visas for the team. Here, Nancy and Take Me With You! guest, Matt Candelaria, wait to pick up their passports from the Kazakhstan embassy in Delhi.]

[Photo by Todd]

Journal by Nancy

Uh, like, we?re in Delhi, and stuff. Delhi is, well, pretty much indescribable. What I mean is, I can describe it, but you still won?t get it. I guess I?ll just try my best.

To begin with, Delhi is hot. I mean, Delhi is Africa hot, and I am hereby changing the descriptive term ?Africa hot? to ?India hot.? I?ve never been to Africa, you see, and I know for a fact just how oppressively hot India is. So, India is the new hottest of hot spots. While in India, we have to dress fairly conservatively so as not to draw too much attention. T-shirts are ok, but long, loose pants are a necessity. We sweat a lot, and that means we drink lots of water. The plus side is that hot weather decreases the ol? appetite.

Delhi is crowded. All of India, with more than a billion people, is very crowded. All of these crowds migrate to the streets together, so driving here is more difficult than anywhere else I?ve ever been in my entire life. Even in the rural areas, people flock to the streets in droves and avoid moving over to the shoulders at all costs to avoid stepping into dirt or grass. It seems they?d almost rather get hit by a car or truck than move over into the dirt. They march their livestock down the middle of the road, they ride bicycles and mopeds, drive tuk-tuks (they?re called auto rickshaws here), maneuver pedicabs, walk side-by-side, sit, nap, play cards, dry their corn, park, poop, pee, stand, and even roll (we saw a ?holy roller? all stretched out and rolling steam-roller style down the street once) down/in the middle of the road.

In the city here in Delhi, traffic is a mess. It?s like full-on, no-holds-barred bumper cars. By now, most of the team has been involved in some form of auto rickshaw accident. Matt and I were in a rickshaw that barreled into the back of another because his brakes went out. We had to hop into a new rickshaw. Colin?s cab ran over a pedicab and then hit a little boy. The boy was ok, and Colin ended up paying some rupees for the pedicab?s bent wheel, but relatives of the boy beat up the cab driver. We?ve all witnessed accidents, but luckily nobody has been injured. Auto rickshaws are the best form of transportation, because they can maneuver through tight spaces, and in Delhi, there?s nothing but tight spaces. The rickshaws zip down back alleyways, around buses, through crowds, onto sidewalks, through red lights, and past traffic jams while the passengers hold on for dear life. Diesel fumes are choking, so a lot of breath holding goes on in Delhi.

Delhi is smelly. I?m not being rude; I?m just stating the facts. There isn?t a lot of progress, so far, in the sanitation department in India, so garbage, and sewage, is often seen and smelled in the streets. (Again, with the highest population in the world, sanitation is a foreseeable problem.) I once saw a cow with its head in a dumpster, and it was chewing on a plastic bag the way a country cow might chew on hay. Poor thing. Cows are holy here, and they have free rein to wander the streets pooping on and eating everything in sight. In Varinassi, I saw a big cow poop on a baby cow. Delhi actually has far fewer livestock/poop/garbage in its streets than Varinasi did. There were cows and poops at every turn in Varinassi, but Delhi is relatively cattle-free, at least in the most crowded areas. Regardless, Delhi has a garbage problem. I bought an ice cream once, and I asked a local where I cold deposit my wrapper. He pointed to the ground and insisted that I put it there. I refused. He thought I was nuts. He looked offended. For whatever reason, even when I am surrounded by mounds of garbage, I still cannot bring myself to litter. I once put a plastic water bottle on a pile of garbage in Varinassi, and I still feel bad about it. Sweepers come through and pick up the piles, but it just ain?t right.

Delhi is friendly. People here are genuinely friendly, and I feel relatively safe in the city. I won?t walk around alone at night, but that?s just common sense, no matter what city I?m in. Men will jeer and stare and make lewd and offensive comments, but not any more so than in many American cities. We just need to steer conversations far away from marital status, etc. For the purposes of my stay here, I have a boyfriend/husband/fiancˇ, depending on the situation. People everywhere are kind, as long as the subject of politics is avoided at all costs. When we leave Delhi, it is the people whom I will miss the most. They?re wonderful.

Delhi is a fine place to visit, and the shopping is good, but it?s not somewhere people like us want to stay for more than a couple of weeks. Being here for two weeks (plus) is too hard on this restless crew. As much as we have enjoyed our stay, it will be nice to get moving again! You can?t tie down a band of vagabonds?

P.S. - Just working and sightseeing here. Trying to keep from sweating to death. Getting all our visas for the final leg of our journey. We want to come home and reunite with all of you wonderful people! (N.O.)

Logbook for September 02, Day 307
Start: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Finish: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Mileage: 000

[Colin has gone native here in India.]

Journal by Colin

Well folks, I?m not really one for museums. Most works of art in art museums don?t hold my attention as long as other peoples?, not that I don?t find them interesting. I read really fast, so at the displays in history museums, I breeze though entirely too fast. When I travel, I very rarely visit museums, unless they?re extremely special, and here in Delhi I found one of those museums: The Museum of Toilets.

Yes, I know it?s hard to believe, but in one of the most unsanitary metropolises on this planet there is a museum dedicated strictly to the porcelain throne. It cracked me up. I mean, I think only 30 percent of Indian families even have toilets.

The museum was started by a man who has made it his life?s task to bring sanitation to the Indian Nation (giggle). He has built toilets all over the country, including the worlds? largest toilet compound, somewhere in southwest India. One of his main goals is the abolishment of what is known in India as ?manual scavenging.? Manual scavenging is practice that pretty much all of us westerners would find disgusting. You see, in India, a lot of people have what are known as dry latrines, which are basically just a bucket that you poop in. Anyway, these scavengers, who are members of the absolute lowest caste of untouchables, come along, pick up your ablutions every night, and then dump it out in a field somewhere. It?s an entirely unhealthy and unsanitary practice, not only for the scavengers themselves, but for all people, because the feces ends up in people?s water systems. You can see why they are trying to abolish the practice, and untouchability in general.

The museum itself contains donations of various toilets and bathroom objects from more than twenty countries. They had some extremely interesting stuff there. For instance, they had a replica of a French king?s throne that actually was a toilet, complete with ashtray and cup holder. One of the more amazing items in their collection was an American-invented toilet that, rather than using water, electrically zapped your excrement into ash. Unfortunately, they wouldn?t let me use it. I was also a little disappointed when I used their bathroom and it was just a normal toilet. You?d expect more at a museum dedicated to the thing. They had some great handouts, and of course, a guest book. I was shocked when I read through it that nobody had made any jokes or puns at all. Most of the comments, and there were a lot, were extremely lame. Things like ?Very interesting? or ?Wow, I never knew there was a museum dedicated to toilets.? So, Adam and I took it upon ourselves to spice that book up. So I wrote something along the lines of ?Great museum, by far the crappiest place I have ever been in my life.? I forget what Adam wrote, but I?m sure it was funny too.

Anyway, there isn?t much to do in Delhi itself outside of shopping, so if you are there, you absolutely must visit the museum of toilets.

P.S. - Today, Take Me With You! guest Matt Candelaria decided to fly to Nepal for the weekend. Chanda and Nick surprised Nancy with assistance so that she could join him. They are incredible, and, realizing that was the one place that is most important to her, they made it possible. She loves them for that, among other things. (N.O.)

Logbook for September 03, Day 308
Start: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Finish: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Mileage: 000

[A Kathmandu street. Typical of the last several countries we have visited, Nepal's streets are crowded with tuk-tuks, pedicabs, and hawkers trying to sell anything and everything they can to tourists.]

Here, Nepalese men charm snakes with their seductive music.

This musician sang and played music with his friends during the curfew, at Nancy's request. It was a great way to stave off boredom and learn some Nepalese culture.

Journal by Nancy

During the first five minutes of our walk through Kathmandu, Matt and I found a whimpering, crying, screaming dog curled up in a gutter. Not knowing what to do, we took him to the animal hospital, where he was diagnosed with canine distemper. We had to have him put to sleep. I bawled my eyes out as I held him while the doctor administered the painless death drug. Later, we enjoyed Kathmandu, and I heard some traditional folk singing and music. Back in Delhi, the team worked and played. Everybody is well. (N.O.)

Logbook for September 4th, Day 309
Start: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Finish: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Mileage: 000

A view of the Himalayas from the air.

A view of the Himalayas and the wingtip of our Budda Air aircraft.

[Photos by Nancy and Matt Candelaria]

Journal by Matt Candelaria

Just got home from a weekend in Nepal. Unfortunately, the LONGITUDE Expedition decided against driving through Nepal, so I decided to fly there and take the "Mountain Flight" to see the mighty mountain. Nancy joined me on this weekend get away. When we arrived in Kathmandu, I quickly understood why it is not good to drive though Nepal. There was a curfew imposed, and on the cab ride of five kilometers to the hotel, there were around 8-10 stops from the military that was stationed at pretty much every major street corner in the city. We were the only people besides the military and a couple other cabs coming from the airport. I was anything but comfortable.

The next day, we there were no Mountain Flights, so we hung out in Kathmandu. There was a curfew at 2 p.m., so we had to do our shopping early. The town did open up from 5-7 p.m. for dinner, so at least we were not completely trapped in the hotel. The next morning we finally got the Mountain flight.

Mt. Everest is really amazing. I looked in the cockpit, and we were at about 26,000 ft, and the mountain was still above us. Really amazing. We were flying on Budda Air, and at first I thought they were doing a really great job. They let everyone in the plane (16 of us) go up to the cockpit one by one, and the copilot showed us Mt Everest. It seemed
really cool. I didn't take many pictures, because I figured I would do that out the side window when we finally got there. Turns out, we should have been snapping away, because we were probably 10 miles from Everest when the plane turned around and headed back to Kathmandu. I was really disappointed, but at least I got to see the mountain.

We had to leave for the airport early that day because of curfew again, so we spent the day waiting around Kathmandu Airport. We met a couple of nice ladies from Australia and Israel, which really helped pass the time. We had spent so much time talking with them that it was sad to say goodbye.

Strangely, when I finally got back to familiar old Delhi, I felt at home for a moment. I guess I just felt safer because of the way things were in Nepal. I didn't like being in a potential revolution.

Matt

P.S. - Matt and Nancy took a mountian flight to see Everest and the Himalayan range. It was disappointing, as the plane didn't get at all close to the mountain. But it did reinforce Nancy's determination to return and climb that beast of a mountian. The rest of the team is in Delhi enjoying themselves. (N.O.)

Logbook for September 5th, Day 310
Start: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Finish: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Mileage: 000

[The blue deity, Vishnu, rides past on a float in the Krishna parade in New Delhi.]

Journal and photos by Neil

We moved hotels into another part of not-so-New Delhi, and there are all kinds of hotels and shops here. It is filled with people and noises all the time, especially when the speakers across the street are blaring music and advertising. I must admit, I do love the music they play, but all the ads and prayers in between are a bit annoying when it is so loud! The music is fascinating, and the voices are so melodic and sweet that you become entranced by it all. This is India, and there is music blaring everywhere. I had been hoping to hear this the whole time I had thought about coming to India. In Varanasi, we found some live musicians playing tablas and sitar, and that is what I had hoped to find. Here in Delhi, though, it is more difficult to find.

This evening, we had a pleasant surprise though. There was a parade filled with marching bands and floats and hundreds and hundreds of kids and adults screaming and singing. The Krishna festival, which has been going on for throughout the month of August, is supposed to have its finale on Tuesday; however, last night they had a parade. It was great, and it was passing right in front of our hotel. The parade came in waves, too. It would start with some police clearing the way, then the marching band with drums, trombones, trumpets, baritones, and whistles would march down the street with lights carried above them, which were electrified by a wheeled generator that a few people would push behind. Next the floats would start with different statues of Vishnu and all kinds of deities represented. The women, men, and children were all dressed up in very fancy outfits and painted faces. It was extremely colorful and predominantly orange, since that is the color for Krishna. Eventually it would die down, and then the street would be somewhat darker and quieter, but then five minutes later another procession would come around. This happened about five times and lasted for a little more than an hour.

Kids were running around smiling and slapping five with me, and whenever I would try to take a picture of anything, five to ten kids would jump in front of my camera and make it next to impossible to take a shot. It was pretty funny. They were really aggressive, and some of the shop owners would come out and yell at them and shoe them away. Unfortunately, Justin had his wallet stolen from his pocket while he was shooting. The kids are very sly, very courageous, and very annoying. It really is too bad, because they are so cute, too.

Amidst all the action from the parade, the people and the children watching would stop by a man standing on a bench who was pouring out water from a pitcher, hold their hands out and get a drink. Everyone was thirsty and sweaty and panting heavily. It was quite a scene. No matter where you go in India, there is always something interesting to stumble upon. The Krishna festival is just one of the many.

Neil

P.S. - Matt and Nancy are back in Delhi and happy to be with the rest of the team. Team is still working on Kazakhstan and Russia visas. We're at least in a hotel with A/C now. Whew. (N.O.)

Logbook for September 6th, Day 311
Start: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Finish: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Mileage: 000

[Photo by Todd]
Journal by Nancy

Todd visited this hospital in Delhi, and he also spoke with a Parkinson's specialist. Todd's words: "Dr. Behari was great; we had a fantastic meeting. She told me of how she decided to become a neurologist, and she discussed the local Parkinson?s organization PRAN (Parkinsonisms and Related Disorders Awareness Network) here (and lamented the fact information about it was not yet available on the net). She told me why so many people wanted to cover it up, and she invited me to her weekly clinic on Saturday. It was great that she took the time to meet with me. You can read more about the interview soon on the Parkinson?s page.

P.S. - Just Delhi. There's a huge Krishna celebration going on here, and it was a loud and restless night. People are dancing, singing, and playing music in the streets. All night. (N.O.)

Logbook for September 7th, Day 312
Start: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Finish: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Mileage: 000

[Remember these? Anyone born after about 1980 won't, but you oldies will. Pull-tabs. They still have these on the soda cans in India. Seen 'em on the fake Red Bulls, Coke, and Sprite...For you youngsters, the reason they are discontinued is because the standard operating procedure was to pull off the tab and stick it inside the can. I guess a few challenged individuals ended up choking on them or severely injuring their innards. But we here at Drive Around the World still like to put the tabs inside our cans...we like risk...and danger...]

[Photo by Matt Candelaria]

Still in Delhi. Still doing visa/permit work. Still hot. Still crowded. Still seeing sacred cows everywhere. Still lots of cute dogs in need of good homes. Even saw a nice yellow labrador retriever puppy yesterday that Nancy almost kept... (N.O.)

Logbook for September 8th, Day 313
Start: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Finish: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: E:	Mileage: 000

[Nancy's latest stray closes his eyes against the pain as he is picked up to be carried into a Nepalese veterinary clinic.]

Journal by Nancy, photo by Matt Candelaria

Delhi, Delhi, Delhi?We at Drive Around the World know we?ve been in one spot too long when our weekly journal day rolls around more than once. This happened in Bangkok quite often, and, frankly, it?s no picnic trying to come up with interesting things to write about when we?re not actually driving.

I described my impressions of Delhi in my September 2 journal, so I won?t bore you with that again. We?ve been venturing out into the hot and sticky weather here each day, taking auto rickshaws to various markets for shopping and errand running, and we usually get charged exorbitant fees. Delhi has turned me into a very rude bargainer, and of that I am not proud. On more than one occasion, I have told the driver off for charging Chanda and me triple or quadruple what he would charge a local, and on another occasion I just handed him twenty rupees and walked away as he screamed about the other eighty rupees he wanted. The nerve!

Occasionally, I have the good fortune to meet a sweet little street dog who lifts my spirits and allows me a brief escape from the hustle and bustle going on about me. The dogs here in India are bigger, healthier, prettier, and more pure-bred-looking than those of many other countries. We refer to them lovingly as ?third-world dogs?, and we love them. Two days ago, for example, I met a yellow Labrador retriever puppy. He was beautiful, and he was wandering the streets alone, so I decided to befriend him. When I first spotted him, he was being scolded and chased off by a mean-looking chef holding a butcher knife! Yikes! So, I scolded the chef and led the dog to a safer loitering area. He was so cute and friendly that I ALMOST kept him. The reason I didn?t? A fear of commitment. Dogs like that one are at least a 10-14-year commitment, and I can?t make that step. That?s definitely a good thing, too, as it has prevented me from taking on strays in nearly every country we?ve visited.

A few days ago, as you might already know, Matt Candelaria and I took a short weekend trip to Kathmandu in Nepal. The trip was too short, but it was great. By the way, I have Nick and Chanda to thank for making my dream of visiting that city a reality, so, ?Thanks, Nick and Chanda!? Matt?s journal (Sept. 5) explains the curfews, Maoist insurgents, the city, and the mountain flight, so that saves me from including a description here. What he didn?t tell you about is the dog we met on our first day out in the city.

We were walking down the street, taking in the sights; Matt was eyeballing cool clothing for his girlfriend, and I was drooling over all the camping and climbing stores, when we heard the most woeful cries up ahead.

In the gutter in front of one of the shops was a cute little dog curled up into a little ball, his head down, rear end immobile, and front paw lifting up and down rhythmically. Careful not to receive a bite from the obviously scared and hurting pup, I tried to comfort him and feel for broken bones. I was certain he must have been hit by a car and had his hips busted or dislocated. But everything seemed intact. I didn?t know what to do. He was cute, scared, and helpless. Matt and I could not stand to see him suffering, yet we couldn?t walk away and pull the out of sight-out of mind trick. Matt stood by the little fella while I ran into a bookstore to get a map and directions to the nearest veterinary clinic.

Because he was covered in mud and cold, I wrapped him in a newspaper and held him to my chest. We hopped in a taxi and rode some 10 minutes to a vet; it felt like a half hour. The pup screamed at every bump. When we arrived at the clinic, it was closed. Fifteen minutes-or-so later, a young girl opened the doors, and ten minutes later, a kind-looking man approached. He took one look at the pup and said, ?Looks like canine distemper,? and walked away.

I used to work for a vet as a kid, and I spent a year selling veterinary diagnostic equipment for a company called IDEXX Laboratories, so I wracked my brain trying to come up with the symptoms and treatments for distemper. Nothing. I know we vaccinate for it in the states, and I know it?s a dreadful disease, but that?s all I cold remember. Is it neurological? Yes, I think it?s neurological.

Anyway, I asked the man about the treatment. He said that, in this advanced state, they cold try to treat the disease with medication for seven or eight days, and it would cost a lot of money, and the dog would probably just suffer and then die, anyway. The best and most humane treatment would be to have the pup put to sleep right away. The cost? Five hundred rupees, or around $8.50 US.

Matt and I couldn?t stay in Nepal for eight days, and I didn?t want the dog to suffer a minute longer, so I walked into the back room with him and put him on a counter to await the lethal injection. A skinny man met us back there, and I held my dog while he attempted to put a huge-gauge needle into a vein in the left forearm. He must have had 200 cc of death in that huge syringe. He couldn?t find the vein (duh, the dog was extremely dehydrated), but he kept sticking it in and pushing the fluid in under the skin, anyway. I was becoming furious with him and yelled at him to knock it off. Matt walked away toward the window in the corner, unable to witness the needle and the little doggie?s impending death. Finally, he switched to the other arm, found the vein, and administered the drug. My dog reached around and landed a final death-nip to my hand before he went under. I was an idiot for relaxing my grip on his head, knowing from experience that dogs are instinctually programmed to fend off death by biting. The dog was just barely out before the skinny man picked him up, put him on the floor like a sack of potatoes, and covered him with the newspaper. I flashed him a dirty look for treating my dog so roughly. And that was that.

I handed a 500-rupee note to the kind older doctor, and we left. I must admit that I was a wreck for the next 20-30 minutes. It wasn?t even my dog, really, and yet I was crying over him. Had he been curable, I had great plans to keep him and smuggle him to India with us. He was going to be my little riding companion, because he was a perfect traveling size. But it wasn?t to be, and it?s probably for the best.

It was a rotten way to begin our Nepalese adventure, but the mood soon changed, and Matt and I had a wonderful time in Kathmandu.

P.S. - We're all sick of Delhi and ready to leave...soon. Perhaps tomorrow. (N.O.)

Logbook for September 9th, Day 314
Start: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: 28* 32.514 E: 77* 25.042	Finish: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: 28* 32.514 E: 77* 25.042	Mileage: 000

[A Delhi auto rickshaw driver and son.]

[Photo by Todd]
Journal by Nancy

We're leaving tomorrow, and none too soon. Delhi is wearing us all down. We picked up our vehicles today, and we're at a nicer hotel tonight. Tomorrow will be an early departure.(N.O.)

Logbook for September 10th, Day 314
Start: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: 28* 32.514 E: 77* 25.042	Finish: Delhi, India Time: N/A N: 28* 32.514 E: 77* 25.042	Mileage: 046

Journal by Nancy

We met Coen several days ago on our way to Dharamsala. Then, today, we met him again. He's made quite a bit of progress. As we did when we saw him the first time, we fueled him up with Red Bull and wished him much luck. We're all headed toward Leh, so there's a chance we'll see him on our way back through the mountain passes. Coen is riding from his home in Holland to China.

Logbook for September 11th, Day 315
Start: Noida, India Time: 7:00 a.m. N: 28* 34.264 E: 77* 19.525	Finish: McLeod, India Time: 1:33 a.m. N: 32* 14.085 E: 76* 19.536	Mileage: 362

Journal by Nancy

We're enjoying a rest day here in the home of the Dalai Lama. Nick and Todd are busy talking to "his people" to see if we can't arrange a meeting. Tomorrow, we will either leave or stay one more day. P.S. The altitude here is around 5,000 ft, so it is cool and comfortable. We love altitude! (N.O.)

Logbook for September 12th, Day 317
Start: Noida, India Time: N/A N: 28* 34.264 E: 77* 19.525	Finish: Noida, India Time: N/A N: 28* 34.264 E: 77* 19.525	Mileage: 000

Journal by Nancy

Work continued today on our route for the rest of the expedition. Also working on a little surprise we'll tell ya'll about later... eam spent much time researching various flight options from Russia back to the U.S. We'll be flying while our vehicles are shipping. Things are good here in the home of the 14th Dalai Lama and the Tibetan Government-in-exile. It rains every day, but the air is a good temp, and the Indians, as always, are great.

Logbook for September 13th, Day 318
Start: McLeod Ganj, India (Dharmasala) Time: N/A N: 32* 14.085 E: 76* 19.536	Finish: McLeod Ganj, India (Dharmasala) Time: N/A N: 32* 14.085 E: 76* 19.536	Mileage: 097

Journal by Nancy

We had a wonderful morning here in McLeod Ganj, with the team working until noon and then departing for the Himalayas. We have some interesting stuff to tell you about in future journals! Sorry to keep you hanging?tune in next time? Our drive toward Leh (way up in the Himalayas) began in a light mist, and that mist turned into a driving movie-set-style rain that lasted until we found our hotel in the town of Mandi. We cut our drive through the curvy mountain roads short, and we will start at a reasonable hour tomorrow morning. Miss you all. (N.O.)

Logbook for September 14th, Day 319
Start: McLeod Ganj, India (Dharmasala) Time: 3-ish p.m. N: 32* 14.085 E: 76* 19.536	Finish: Mandi, India Time: 8:45 p.m. N: 31* 41.025 E: 76*