A City with Beautiful Sights, Gorgeous Men, No English, and Street Fights

I leave Delhi the evening of Holi Day which as far as festivals/parties go it ranks near the top on my list. Holi day is the one day where typically conservative India lets it's guard down, quenches it's thirst with alcohol, and douse one another with paint and water. All in the spirit of welcoming spring and celebrating the triumph of good over bad. Within minutes of stepping outside Andy and I were covered in paint, more so me than him. Holi Day for a white woman is a lot like attending a family reunion and dealing with that pervy relative who holds his hugs a bit too long. Despite having with my 6'3 platonic husband by my side I was constantly getting groped and after 90 minutes I had enough and headed back to the safe haven of our hotel. After a 30 minute shower in COLD water I was 95% paint free and ready for the next and final leg of this adventure.

 In 2013 I told one of my closest friends that I would be going to Paris soon, I didn't know how or when, but I just knew that I would. Fast forward a year later and I find myself on a flight from Delhi to Paris with a brief stop over in Abu Dhabi. I'm intrigued by the people and culture of Abu Dhabi and can't wait to explore this country in the future. *Side note I have flown on many airlines and emirates airlines has been one of the best. The seats are super comfy, the food is good, and the people are friendly. The worst is fucking china south eastern...but damn they have good prices.

I arrive in Paris early in the morning and make my way to the hostel using the trains, I figure it out relatively easily and am impressed with my superior navigational skills. It's busy and being a polite Canadian I stand the entire 40minute train journey wearing my backpack and trying not to get in people's way. By the time I get to my hostel I'm cursing my high maintenance ways, carrying 40 pounds on my back for an hour served as another lesson I apparently needed to learn the hard way.

My room is in a 4 bed dorm occupied by just guys, this has consistently been a theme on this trip where I'm often the only or one of the few females in a mixed dorm. My fantasy of having a whirlwind romantic affair in Paris is dashed when I open the door and meet one of my roomies, he's this cute little old guy from Chile who speaks zero English. I try to sleep as it's only 8am, but I am to amped and just end up tossing and turning before I give up and set out to explore Paris. I enjoy being reunited with a society that has sidewalks, no evil monkeys trying to fuck with me, no smell of poo, no pigs trying to charge at me, and no COWS. On the flip side public restrooms are hard to come by (things North Americans unknowingly take for granted). I walk around all day and am enamored with Paris. Money is tight and Paris is expensive so one of the things I did was google free things to do and decided on exploring the Père Lachaise cemetery that has famous "occupants" like Gloria Stein, Jim Morrison, and Oscar Wilde. It's over 100 acres with impressive tombs and memorials and with Paris being one of the top three tourist cities in the world, it's not surprisingly the most visited cemetery in the world.

The following day I'm up at 5 and not by choice, rooming with boys (or anyone) that snores brings about homicidal thoughts and I was tired of laying in bed fantasizing about smothering them with a pillow... I begrudgingly get up and decide to get an early start. There are numerous museums to check out in Paris, I have no desire to check them all out in one trip so I decide on the worlds largest, which is The Louvre. I spend 3 hours wandering around and I still wasn't able to see it all, mostly because I got lost A LOT, apparently my navigational skills are not that superior. I did manage to see a numerous famous pieces like Captive by Michelangelo, The Wedding Feast, and The Mona Lisa which happens to be much smaller than I had thought it would be. I catch a glimpse of outside and decide to embark on what my travel buddies and I now refer to as "serendipitous wandering". Eventually I come across the Eiffel Tower and am awe struck, it's yet another moment where I feel immense gratitude/happiness/peace for being right where I am. I spend the rest of my day exploring Paris by foot. I end up back at the hostel late in the evening and am greeted by a new roommate who speaks English, which is pretty exciting as most of the people I came across throughout the day speak everything but English. We talk until we can both barely keep our eyes open, and I fall asleep hoping he doesn't snore as he seemed cool and I would hate to fantasize about smothering him with a pillow.

My last day in Paris was long, I was determined to see as much as possible and gave zero fucks about how sore my body was from the miles I was surely to have already covered. I head to Notre Dame (astonishingly beautiful) from there I headed to Montmartre a village within Paris which is where Hemingway and Piccaso chilled back in the day (a must see, I plan to spend more time there on my next visit) and then I headed to Champs-Élysées "the most famous shopping avenue in the world". I wander in and out of high end stores gasping at the prices and looking for an potential sugar daddy to fund my future travel. I pass a cafe and catch the eye of a guy that makes me weak in the knees, we exchange smiles and I keep walking. Moments later I hear yelling, I turn around and see a crowd gathering by the cafe I just passed so I walk back up to check it out. The hottie I had just passed is exchanging words with a girl from another table, while I can't understand what they are saying I can tell it's getting heated. Suddenly the girl then lunges at him and a brawl ensues, a crowd has gathered and we all watch the action in a state of disbelief.

I walk to the Eiffel Tower to check it out at night and whilst walking I pass by another jaw-droppingly handsome guy who smiles and says something in French (Im kicking myself for not learning French after grade 9). I spend my last night chatting away with some English guys while we catch the sunset. I have a restless sleep I'm excited to see my familia and friends and yet my mind is already thinking about "Where To Next", my wanderlust is insatiable.

The flight home is quick and after a brief stop over in Iceland (another country now on the list) I find myself seated next to a chatty guy who is also from Edmonton. Jesse is a nervous flyer who attempts to seek comforting words from me when he finds out I've lost count of the number of flights I've been on, I do very little to calm poor Jesse's nerves. In between the teasing, Jesse and I talk about traveling, life, and everything in between. I cherish moments like this when you can have an effortless, soulful, thought provoking conversation whether it's with someone you've known forever or with a perfect stranger. I say see ya later to Jesse at the airport, get mildly interrogated by customs, and run into the arms of my niece who is patiently waiting while holding her "Welcome Home Aunty" sign.

Stop dreaming, Start doing

I have never been a FML kinda person, I have a job I enjoy, an amazing group of friends, and a family that makes my heart burst with happiness. My life before I committed to this adventure was comfortable, it wasn't complicated, and I thought I was as happy as I could be. The problem was while trying to be my best self I was over riding my honest self, I was doing more dreaming than actual doing and my bucket list was getting bigger by the year. I felt a longing for something more, I knew that this could not be it, I've watched enough Oprah and read enough biographies and quotes to know that life is not meant to be lived with the training wheels on. So after a few serendipitous events I committed to the #1 on my bucket list and I made it happen. It wasn't comfortable, things got complicated, and I made decisions unsure of what the outcome would be. As I'm writing this I'm sitting in a cafe two blocks from the Eiffel Tower in Paris watching the sunset, this is what happens in my life when I don't play it safe, when I jump without a safety net and follow my heart.

You may think, that I think everyone should travel and while I can list off reasons why you should I know it's not everyone's dream or goal. My hope is that more people will turn the tvs off and stop watching other people live their lives and live their own. Chase your dreams, achieve goals, quit that job you don't like, book that plane ticket, take the next step in a relationship or end a relationship that is not full filling. Whatever it might be just do the stuff that makes you uncomfortable, gets your heart pumping, do the things where your not sure of the outcome. A life lived in your comfort zone is mostly not that challenging, not that interesting or inspiring.

Everyone knows what I'm writing about, but not everyone lives like this and I haven't always but I'm committed now because I feel the magic from living this way and for the first time I feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be in life. I'd rather have cold showers for a month, eating nothing but beans than live another minute of my life playing it safe. Life moves pretty fast, don't be a sad panda at the end of yours because you didn't have the courage to take that leap of faith and step outside of your comfort zone.

OM Shanti Shanti Shanti

In my research of ashrams in Rishikesh (Yoga Capital Of The World) I came across Anand Prakash. The reviews were overwhelmingly positive, you were allowed to come and go as you please, nothing was mandatory, and there was hot water. The Schedule: Monday-Saturday (Sunday is a free day) 5am- Bell Rings 6-7:45am- Yoga 8:30am- Breakfast 1pm- Lunch 4-5:45pm- Yoga 6:30pm- Supper

My first week at the ashram consisted of getting used to the schedule, 3hrs of yoga and 5am wake ups had me wiped out for the first few days. I didn't end up making it to every class, I slept through one and skipped another two due to being sore. If you enjoy legumes, lentils, beans, and rice then you will love ashram meals. For the first week my taste buds rejected it, I didn't hate it but I didn't like it either and sometimes I thought it was terrible. Honestly though I couldn't ignore the positive effects it was having on my body, I felt full longer and had more energy throughout the day. Monday mornings turned out to be my favorite day to eat at the ashram because it's BANANA SAMOSA day, do yourself a favor and try one.

The second week was a more social week, time was spent with newly made friends walking around Rishikesh and savoring non ashram food. To the surprise of both myself and Andy I was actually beginning to enjoy ashram food, I guess my taste buds just needed sometime to adjust. My goal for this week was to attend all AM and PM classes which I did with the exception of Saturday. On Friday Jen, Andy, Yang, and I decided to get a ride to the top of a mountain and check out a temple but more importantly the view of the Himalayas. People always ask why I don't like monkeys and here's why, while carrying an offering up the 200 steps to the temple a monkey jumps in front of me and steals my beads. Monkeys are not cute people, they are evil and masters of psychological warfare. This is the second time this week I've been hustled from one and have earned the nickname baboon magnet. Once I reached the top I placed what was left of my offering in the temple and admired the spectacular view. Seeing the Himalayan mountains in the distance further fueled my insatiable desire to explore this amazing world. Ahead of time we decided that we would walk down the mountain following the well travelled trail. Knowing we were walking down a mountain I decided to leave my perfectly good shoes in my backpack and wear my sandals. I had made it a personal mission to not wear shoes once since I left Canada, there are times were my stubbornness causes me to learn lessons the hard way and this was one of those times. 4.5 hours and 20 km later we reached the bottom of a trail, we are not sure if it was the right one because there were many others trails intersecting with each other causing us to veer off track. Once we were in a taxi headed back to Rishikesh we all marveled about the waterfalls we came across, the villages we wandered through, and the locals we met along the way. It was at this point that I was also able to forgive Yang who decided that it would be me who would either get left behind or eaten if it got to dark. The next day every muscle in my body ached so I reasoned that it was probably a good idea to skip yoga. In the afternoon we were invited to attend an opening ceremony of a school that Yogi Vishvketu and his charity started. His organization helpinghandsforindia.org is dedicated to helping less fortunate children improve their lives by providing education. It's amazing what can be accomplished when you put good out there.

On our third week the weather starts to warm up significantly and I'm starting to get somewhat of a tan, which is no easy feat considering tank tops and shorts are frowned upon in this part of India. Sunday proved the adage that bad luck happens in 3's to be true, poor Andy had a shit day first, he forgot to get his change from a cafe, then he got sold ice cream on 3 different occasions that all tasted awful #firstworldproblems, but the cherry on top was when he got hit by a jeep while walking. If you saw how they drive in India you'd be surprised that one of us hasn't got hit sooner. It's me however that steps in actual shit (a sign of good luck I'm told) and most likely as karma for chuckling at his misfortunes. Yogi Vishvketu continues to entertain us during yoga classes with his Russell Peters like humor, while doing bicycles he tells us to imagine we're driving through India and the red light up ahead is just a suggestion just like in India so keep going.

Spending three weeks in ashram may not be for everyone, for me personally I found my experience to be blissful. I quickly became a morning person enjoying the 6am yoga classes inhaling the crisp mountain air and feeling the golden beams of sunlight on my skin. Everyone knows how great yoga is for you and in addition to the physical benefits, one of the greatest benefits for me was experiencing a yoga high from pushing my body past the limits my mind had set. I thought my days of getting that kind of high were long gone. Another city and another group of amazing people that I am fortunate to have spent time with, Thank You for the memories.

Incredible India

Culture shock is defined as a feeling of disorientation by someone who is subjected to an unfamiliar culture, way of life, or set of attitudes. So it's plausible to say for the last month I've been going through culture shock. Which to some extent explains why I haven't been able to blog. Most nights I just want to hide under my blankets with a bottle of gin, I'm not a big drinker but like people say, India changes you. Where to begin when summarizing the past 30 days do I start with the first time I saw a herd of hip-cows traipsing about through the street (I later found out these very ugly animals are water buffaloes) or do I start with the first time I saw a kid shit on the road? India is equal parts fascinating and frustrating, never have I been to a country that has challenged me so much mentally and emotionally. It's certainly not for everyone and the consensus from travellers I've met is that yes, India is definitely the hardest country we have all backpacked in.

This is India...
It's loud and it's loud all the time, one of my favourite ways to explore my surroundings is by walking, and in India this is no easy feat. In every city I've been to but one (Udaipur) the minute you step out your door your being harassed by touts and rickshaw drivers, horns are blasting every other second, and the locals scream at one another just to be heard. At night we are often woken up by what we now refer to as the midnight symphony which is countless stray dogs howling away. As I'm writing this I can hear horns blaring, there's two guys talking loudly outside my room, and I think I heard a bomb go off in the distance.

India is dirty with barnyard animals running loose one must watch where they step to avoid stepping in a pile of shit, it's not just the cows and water buffaloes running around there's dirty pigs and donkeys in the mix too. Along with the animal feces is human feces and puddles of urine one must avoid. With no public toilets around I shouldn't have been surprised there was no garbage cans in sight. Remember a few blogs back I wrote about my biggest peeve being litter... well in India garbage is everywhere. I have not caved in and joined the masses, I just can't do it. The other day I asked around for a garbage because sometimes India will pleasantly surprise you, he pointed to the street I said sorry that doesn't sit well with me, he smiled and gave me a head bob. The guy next to him called me over and pointed to a pail that he was using as a garbage I happily unloaded my garbage that I was carrying around for over an hour.

With a population over 1.2 billion I wasn't expecting the people to be one of my favourite things about India. Expect the unexpected in India. There has been some unpleasant experiences in India on account of the crowds, no one loves getting pushed around, having your feet trampled on, and being shoulder checked all the time. Surrounded by the chaos I've had encounters with locals that almost if not completely make up for being a human ping pong ball. I once had a pleasant conversation with a couple of women, all the while I was trying not to get knocked out of the moving train. When traveling I'm always moved by the kindness shown to me by strangers, in Kolkata when part of me fell in between the train and platform two girls came running to my rescue and pulled me up. I hugged them and thanked them as I was sure I was seconds away from a rat nipping at my foot. Walking down the street with hundreds of others going in all directions I'm often surprised when someone greets me with a quick good morning and a smile as they pass me by. In Agra I passed a group of school children one came running up to me said hello shook my hand, and then quickly ran back to his friends. Once they saw that I wasn't so scary, I was suddenly surrounded by little humans shaking my hands and saying hello in between their giggles.

The transportation in India is surprisingly drama free, I've spent countless hours on the Indian rails making my way from south to north then east to west. For the most part I have enjoyed the train rides, I slip on my headphones and let the music take me away. The longest train ride was 28hrs which I spent on a top bunk with a curtain closing me off from the rest of the world, this gave me some much needed recharging time. It was on my third 20hr train ride that the novelty of the train began to wear off and I felt restless. So we switched it up and took buses to get from point a to point b. To date the buses are an acceptable alternative to trains and not unlike Thailand they blast the a/c when it's not necessary and the seats aren't exactly comfortable, but the big windows more than make up those minor inconviences.

The men yes the men deserve their own category. As a white woman travelling through India I was warned beforehand about "Indian men." At first I found it unnerving every time I looked up I saw a man staring at me and sometimes the looks were a bit...intense, they will look you up and down, and lick their lips. On my first train ride one elderly man took it step further and pinched my butt. A close second on my list of frustrating things about Indian men is being ignored, there have been several times Andy would have to order my food for me or book our train tickets as when I tried to do it, it was like I was invisible. Luckily this wasn't always the case, I've had friendly men point me in the direction of my guest house, help me with my monster backpack, and ask my opinion on their hairstyle. Sometimes the friendliness goes to far the other way and I find myself on a rooftop with Mr. Rico Suave's arm around me. The next day I'm bombarded with questions to determine if I'm single by Mr. Rico Suave's younger brother, he also throws in some helpful advice to avoid coming off to strong like his brother. At the end of our stay he gave me a piece of paper that reads "Thank You" I'm still not sure what he's thanking me for perhaps it's the time he came to see how the shower was and I answered the door in my towel?

The poverty is heartbreaking, with India having the second largest population in the world I knew I'd see poverty I just wasn't expecting to see so much of it or have it so in my face. It's hard to walk by it Every Fucking Day and it hasn't become any easier 30 days later. Never have I seen so many homeless children, I smile at them hiding my watery eyes, later at night I sit back in my room and wonder how can I help them, I still have no answers. China's two children policy or whatever it is, doesn't seem like such a bad idea now. It didn't get better or worse as I travelled from south to north, and then east to west. As soon as you get off the train you are making your way through the families that sleep at the train station and once at your guest house you are making your way through the families on the streets. While incredibly heartbreaking it's another reminder of how fortunate I am, and that I need to do what I can to help those less fortunate.

The Taj Mahal, one of the seven wonders of the world, and regarded by many as one of the most beautiful building in the world. Andy and I pay the 750 foreigner price (locals pay 20) and make our way through security. I was given a laughable pat down where she touched my boobs, felt my jacket pockets and then sent me to someone who goes through my bags. I wait for my bag to be handed back to me as I have nothing but my camera, wallet, toilet paper, and frank my stuffed monkey in there. The security guard holds up my monkey and loudly declares that I can't bring this in, I laugh thinking it's a joke and grab it. Suddenly another security guard comes up to me and advises me that no toys allowed, I look at him dumbfounded and ask if he's being for real right now? I begin to get agitated as this makes no sense to me, I stop myself from speaking any further as I know nothing great is about to come out of my mouth and I walk away. I mutter under my breath and consider where I can stash this dangerous toy, when suddenly a shop owner appears and offers to watch over Frank. Crisis averted and believe me I'm well aware that I am a 31 year old woman who almost lost her shit over not being able to take her stuffed monkey into the Taj Mahal. India makes you crazy and crave gin. Anyways... as someone whose obsessive over symmetry I am in love with the Taj Mahal and appreciate the beauty of the details. It feels surreal to be standing in front of it and being able to admire it up close. I'm politely asked on numerous occasions to pose for pictures with Indian males, I oblige and feel my ego start to become inflated.

From Trivandrum to Madurai, a brief stop over in Chennai, up to Kolkata, then Bodhgaya, on to Varanasi, down to Khajuraho, over to Udaipur, up to Pushkar, further up to Jaipur, and then on to Agra, and finally New Delhi. This blog my friends is the short version of the past month. I'm headed to Rishikesh at the foothills of the Himalayas' and will be spending the next however long in an ashram, for some much needed relaxation.

We Are One

"You're from Canada? I love Canada." I've heard this countless times as I've wandered through third world countries. For the past three weeks, while in India my response is usually an enthusiastic "ME TOO." Hearing people express love for a country I call home inspired me to do some research into how easy it would be for them to also call Canada home. What I found pleased me as a multi cultural nation that is represented by more than 200 ethnic origins Canada accepts around 200,000 immigrants per year. There are a few ways in which one can immigrate to Canada, while I can't remember them all the following three are ones that stuck with me: 1. Sponsoring Family 2. Skilled Worker and Professional 3. Refugee escaping cruel and unusual punishment While I'm not sure how the average Canadian Citizen feels about this, I notice from time to time that as I scroll through my Facebook time feed I see posts that appear to not be supportive of Canada's immigration policy. Why shouldn't others be allowed the same quality of life that you and I are afforded? Why shouldn't families be united? Why can't someone who's worked their ass off academically, and has undoubtedly over come many obstacles be allowed to pursue a career in a country as great as Canada? Why should anyone have to endure horrific punishment? I believe what makes Canada great besides hot water and public bathrooms is that Canada as a nation embraces diversity. I've seen what everyday life is like in some countries and for some it's miraculous to me that not only do they get up everyday but they do it with a smile. A lot of people reading this are incredibly privileged and all because of where we were born. My thoughts often turn to my niece when I see little barefoot girls running around on a ground soaked with urine and littered with feces trying to sell me a photo or a trinket. How many little girls lives could be changed for the better if we thought in terms of "we are one" and not "survival of the fittest"? I certainly do not know everything there is to know about this subject, traveling has shown me that you can't see the world as black and white it's extremely grey. I don't mean to be preachy, I thought my blog might be an appropriate forum to write out my thoughts on a subject that is heavily weighing on my mind.

Loving and Hating India

Basic Ashram Schedule 0520 hrs WAKE UP BELL 0600 hrs SATSANG (Meditation/Chanting) 0730 hrs TEA TIME 0800 hrs ASANA CLASS (Yoga) 1000 hrs BRUNCH 1100 hrs KARMA YOGA (Doing a chore) 1230 hrs COACHING CLASS (optional) 1330 hrs TEA TIME 1400 hrs LECTURE 1600 hrs ASANA CLASS 1800 hrs DINNER 2000 hrs SATSANG 2200 hrs LIGHTS OUT The entire schedule is mandatory. I knew heading into the ashram my days would be busy and there was a unique strictness that I would need to abide by. I was fine with the yoga, meditation, and karma yoga. In a weird twist of fate my karma yoga was hauling wood, which I'm sure upon hearing that my bonus dad will break into smile and and exclaim "good, I've got plenty of karma yoga for her here." I thought no problem I can do this for 2 weeks, I lasted 3 days. Was it the lack of hot water, the un-hygienic bathrooms or did my rebellious streak make a reappearance? I'm guessing it was a combo of all three and I naively thought once I escaped the ashram I would be rewarded with copious amounts of hot water and toilets with toilet paper or at the very least hoses. Yes I can be high maintenance at times. We advise the ashram we will be leaving the following morning and are handed 2 exit passes which we were told not to lose or we will not be allowed to leave. After the wake up bell with our precious exit passes in hand we catch a bus to the train station and so begins our journey through India. After being warned that it can be difficult to obtain same day train tickets we were delighted to have 2 tickets to Mandurai. Unbeknown to us these tickets to freedom were the worst possible tickets a foreigner could have. There are 7 different train classes in India 1AC/2AC being the best where you're in groups of 4 and the seats convert to bunks and the worst being unreserved 2nd class with less seats than people. One guess which class we were in? The train journey in unreserved 2nd class is one I won't forget and will be quite happy to never experience again, while there are parts of it I enjoyed there are parts I loathed. Making small talk with the men across from us, seeing the locals reaction to a picture I showed them of snow, and interacting with the children were moments that in the end made the train ride worth it. The gut wrenching moments were when the women and children would smile up at me from the cramped floor. I wanted to offer up my seats to them but didn't want to be even closer to the men that were staring at me or worse have another body part squeezed (earlier I had my ass pinched by an older man). The sad reality is that in the time it would take the closest woman to get to my seat a man would have likely stolen the seat. When I mentioned I was headed to India fellow travellers would often advise me that in their experiences men often treated women like second class citizens. There would be times when I will get ignored and need my friend to communicate for me, other times I will be stared so intently with a look that you know is not pure or they will accidentally on purpose grope you. There not all bad though I was told, often you will be greeted warmly, smiled at politely and treated with respect. I can attest to having experienced all three interactions, and while the first two are annoying and unnerving respectively, it's a whole different ball game over here and it's best to ignore the bad, focus on the good, and accept the cultural difference of the country you are travelling in. For every disheartening moment there is another moment not to far that fills your heart with joy. At the time of writing this I've been in India a week I had a difficult time adjusting to the culture, and the low level of hygiene was making my homesickness even more prevalent. I could have said fuck this and book my ticket home, and trust me I was been on the verge of doing exactly that but for now I am holding off. I will continue riding the roller coaster of emotions going back and forth between loving India and hating it.

Expect the Unexpected in Thailand

When I saw how cheap it was to fly to Bangkok while on this side of the world, I knew it would be a matter of when, not if I'd be returning to Thailand while on this adventure. I spend my first few days revisiting some of my favorite sights in Bangkok such as the Malls, Koahsan Road, and Lumphuni Park as well as finding new favorites like Sky Bar and the Soi 38 night market. After a memorable New Years in BKK I set off to explore Chiang Mai accompanied by a fellow wander luster who I will affectionately refer to as Cheech. We spend our days searching for the best of everything whether it's a fruit smoothie combo (pineapple and banana), pad thai stall, thai massage, or tuk tuk price. In the in-between time we have lunch with a friend of a friend and while I wouldn't trust his salad recommendations (I forgive you) he is well travelled and a wealth of knowledge, so I bombarded him with questions on India and enjoyed hearing about his various adventures. While in Thailand you will undoubtedly come across a few temples, my personal favourite is Doi Suthep in Chiang Mai. Way back in the day a white elephant climbed up a mountain trumped his horn 3x and then died on the spot, King Nu Naone ordered that Doi Suthep be built in this sacred spot. The aura of this temple left us feeling calm, and while there we were splashed with holy water, blessed by a monk, found out our birthday Buddha, given our fortune, and granted 1 wish. Legend has it that your wish will be granted if you are able to elevate an elephant statue with your pinky two times consecutively. Cheech decides to rent a scooter for a day and I decide I have had my thrill of scooters and do not want to tempt fate anymore than I have already, so we set out on our separate ways for the day. I return to the hostel a few hours later and am told by the hostel manager that Cheech has been in an accident I search her face for a smile, something to tell me she's joking, but she's serious. I feel sick and am not given any reassurance that she is ok. Finding the hospital she was taken to proves to be a bit of a challenge as there are "many, many hospitals" in Chiang Mai. I finally track her down and rush to be by her side, I am relieved to see no casts or body parts hoisted in the air, there is an ice pack over her eyes, a bandage on her cheek, and a few stitches under her lip. The first words out of my mouth are "Cheech what the fuck dude", she smiles and lifts up the ice pack and I see the baddest black eye I have ever come across. Cheech gives me the low down on what happened and true to form she is all zen about the incident. The next morning I head back to the hospital to pick her up, before she can be released the bill needs to be taken care of. We are both unsure of what to expect but in Thailand expect the unexpected, the ENTIRE medical bill came to $1350 baht, which is about $45 Canadian. A few days later I choke back tears, bid Cheech farewell and head to Ayutthaya. My cousin and his wife have graciously offered to let me stay with them for a few days. Despite not remembering the last time I have seen my cousin (he's been out of Canada since '91) it's easy to spot them at the train station. They take me out to eat and then back to their house which after months in dorms feels and looks like a palace. The next day we embark on an overnight road trip to visit the Amphawa Floating Market. After a 4hr car ride were on a boat exploring the market and surrounding area. Later that evening we enjoy an amazing dinner at the hotel and eat river prawn that is as big as my hand. With a bottle of wine in hand we board another boat for a night river cruise hoping to see fire flies. What an incredible sight it was to see them, it was like twinkling lights. Once back at the hotel I say goodnight and decide to go for a little walk. As I exit the hotel property a golf cart comes racing towards me with a hotel employee in it, he asks where I'm going I let him know that I'm just going for a walk and I'll be ok. He looks hesitant and asks if I want a ride anywhere, I decline and he heads back. 5 minutes later another golf cart comes towards me with two employees in it, they insist I come back with them, I'm taken aback by their caring nature and like a true Canadian I apologize and hop into the golf cart. I casually mention this to my cousin the next morning, he laughs and tells me they told him all about it last night, how awkward to be ratted out by hotel employees. We end our adventure with a visit to the morning market, which is a must do while in Thailand, even for just the food alone. I very tearfully say goodbye to my cousin (I'm terrible at goodbyes) and head to Bangkok for my last night in Thailand. Despite the many reports on how anti government protesters in a bid to get the current prime minster to step down will shut down Bangkok today (Jan 13) I manage to get in and to my hostel with no problems. I have to admire their tenacity and their ability to protest peacefully, they were all smiles as I walked through the crowds with my monster backpack. If this is successful perhaps Albertans should take note, maybe we can rid ourselves of Alison Redford. After consuming a bit to many fruit smoothies I go for a walk, I happen to enjoy walking and exploring cities this way but after the preceding and following incident I may have to rethink this. I notice a shifty individual up ahead, I move to one side of the sidewalk he shadows my move. Not sure what to expect but not entirely fearful as he looks to be about 14, I clutch my wallet and give him a "don't fuck with me" look, as he passes me he pinches my boob. This I was not expecting, with a shocked look I yell out some choice curse words and flip him the bird. I walk a bit further determined to not less this end my night early and notice a rat, a girl can only handle so much I change course and speed walk home. Despite its cockroaches, rats, and perverts! Bangkok is one of my favorite cities in the world and I know I'll be back.