<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36898430</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:17:20.930-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Magnificent India</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36898430/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Laura/Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12486459113700295060</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36898430.post-2238409644418324085</id><published>2008-05-11T00:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T08:51:42.444-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Manali- snow in India</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;20-23 March 2008 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;After my return from 10 days sick leave in the Netherlands, New Delhi was about sleepless nights (jet lag) and the worst nightmares ever. So, I needed another break, a peaceful and relaxing one. I know that the mountains are kind of up North and not very close to Delhi (at all). However, I did not realize that the bus trip would take 14 hours taking one winding road after the other. While my seat was in the back of the bus, half way the trip I was compelled to sit closer to the driver so I could follow the road with my eyes. The only thing I remember of the hazardous journey from the back to the front of the bus, and bear in mind that Indians are not the most sensitive drivers on this planet, are the multiple heads hid in plastic bags making gruesome vomiting noises. I am not even exaggerating if I tell you that the lady sitting opposite of the lane looked green in her face! I felt so sorry for myself! Quite unexpectedly, I completed the trip with an empty sickness bag, chapeau!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/SCajKx9enRI/AAAAAAAAAC4/AQseLuzAyxE/s1600-h/IMG_2230.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/SCajKx9enRI/AAAAAAAAAC4/AQseLuzAyxE/s320/IMG_2230.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199022225451031826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Manali itself is a small tourist village. During summer months it is packed with tourists and in winter it is litterally empty as both tourists and shopowners resort to sunbathing and drinking cocktails in Goa. Although I was still going from one hospital to another in my nightmares, Manali was a perfect break. Packed in at least 6 layers, breakfast at the balcony was quite an experience being surrounded by snowy mountains and breathing in fresh, clean and pure oxygen. One day we hired a taxi higher up the mountain so we could extually touch the snow! What I thought would be a one day skiing event turned out to be  a human zoo event. Many Indians come to Manali to see snow for the first time in their lives. As most of them don't have appropriate dress for these low temperatures dozens of shops on the way to this snowy playground rent out fur coats. Now picture this relatively small playground packed with people walking around in long fur coats cheerfully playing in the snow like a bunch of small children. This was a different India than what I am used to in New Delhi. This positive image quickly changed when we headed back to Manali as we got stuck in a traffic jam for at least an hour.&lt;br /&gt;The third day we roamed around in Manali village that has lovely shops and good momos! It was a great weekend break from Delhi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36898430-2238409644418324085?l=magnificentindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/feeds/2238409644418324085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36898430&amp;postID=2238409644418324085' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36898430/posts/default/2238409644418324085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36898430/posts/default/2238409644418324085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/2008/05/manali-snow-in-india.html' title='Manali- snow in India'/><author><name>Laura/Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12486459113700295060</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/SCajKx9enRI/AAAAAAAAAC4/AQseLuzAyxE/s72-c/IMG_2230.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36898430.post-5071793407635886102</id><published>2007-09-25T11:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T10:14:57.931-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lucknow</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;21-23 September 2007: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;My friend Elisabeth is working in the South of Nepal since May last year. For months we were trying to meet half way between her town and Delhi. We decided that that would be Lucknow. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Lucknow is the capital town of Uttar Pradesh, a state in the North of India. It was the home of the Nawabs of Avadh who reigned the area for about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;a centur&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;y after &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;the decline of the Mughal Empire. Most of the city's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt; monuments date from this period. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I haven't heard a single human being who was positive about Lucknow apart from the nation famous kababs. Well, they are all wrong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: justify;font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;How to describe Lucknow? It was quite a bizar experience when we woke &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;up the first morning at 6am by the noise of people br&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;eaking down a wall. I noticed the dust in the room and called the hotel reception. After scolding  staff the noise stopped. However, at 7am reception phoned us to ask whether we wanted coffee or tea. What genius reception staff phones up hotel guests at 7 in the morning for coffee or tea??? No need to  repeat my  friend's reply to them.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Enfin, few hours after our premature waking up, Elisabeth looked at my face and cried out what on earth I had smudged on my face. She said it was all black!! And indeed, the interior and some exterior parts of my nose were completely black.It took us few seconds to realize that the 'breaking down of a wall' had in fact be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;en &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;a fire! It turned out that the fire had taken place in the room next door. We were appalled! It had not crossed any manager's head to evacuate the corridor or even to warn the guests. For 5 hours we slept in a smoke infested room. We could easily have died of smoke intoxication. I was ready to smack every irresponsible and incompetent staff member's head through the wall. The manager defended himself by stating that he tried his level best to put out the fire. What a complete moron he is. Obviously we left that by insanity troubled place and nicely installed ourselves  in  a 4-star hotel with smoke detectors!&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/RvljkOw8KYI/AAAAAAAAACo/7jfMazCzgzg/s1600-h/Martiniere+School-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/RvljkOw8KYI/AAAAAAAAACo/7jfMazCzgzg/s200/Martiniere+School-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114228325945715074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/Rvljy-w8KZI/AAAAAAAAACw/AkNzCSzhnXI/s1600-h/Shah+Najaf+Imambara-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/Rvljy-w8KZI/AAAAAAAAACw/AkNzCSzhnXI/s200/Shah+Najaf+Imambara-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114228579348785554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Then it was about time to marvel at Lucknow's historic monuments.First the remarkable architecture of Martiniere school (see picture 1)with it's unconventional blend of various architectonial styles. Second was the Shah Najaf Imambara which is the tomb of o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ne of the former Nawab's of Lucknow. Unusual elements were the numerous chandeliers hanging from the ceiling (see picture 2).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/RvlgROw8KWI/AAAAAAAAACY/LElw7u-JHK8/s1600-h/IMG_1488.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/RvlgROw8KWI/AAAAAAAAACY/LElw7u-JHK8/s200/IMG_1488.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114224700993317218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/Rvlhduw8KXI/AAAAAAAAACg/R5Z-ryofiu0/s1600-h/IMG_1506.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/Rvlhduw8KXI/AAAAAAAAACg/R5Z-ryofiu0/s200/IMG_1506.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114226015253309810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Third was the Bara Imambara &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;(see picture 3 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;and 4), a colossal tomb built in the 17&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;80s by Nawab Asaf-ud-Daula as a famine relief&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt; project. By coincidence, we met two of my friends from Delhi who made the guided tour through the labyrinth a lot more fun. Apart from the fire incident Lucknow was fun and a welcoming alternative to the zillion Hindu temples that I have seen over the course of my stay in India. Elisabeth and I will definitely meet again.............. in Lucknow!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36898430-5071793407635886102?l=magnificentindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/feeds/5071793407635886102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36898430&amp;postID=5071793407635886102' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36898430/posts/default/5071793407635886102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36898430/posts/default/5071793407635886102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/2007/09/lucknow.html' title='Lucknow'/><author><name>Laura/Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12486459113700295060</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/RvljkOw8KYI/AAAAAAAAACo/7jfMazCzgzg/s72-c/Martiniere+School-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36898430.post-1880503079520784442</id><published>2007-08-26T02:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T12:47:45.061-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mumbai</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: justify;font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/RvlO1-w8KTI/AAAAAAAAACA/eGfBdr9Ka64/s1600-h/IMG_1239.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/RvlO1-w8KTI/AAAAAAAAACA/eGfBdr9Ka64/s320/IMG_1239.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114205541144209714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;15-17 August 2007: Mumbai was verfrissend en niet om het minst vanwege het aangename briesje dat zich door de smerige stad worstelde. Vormt Delhi veelal een mozaik van woonwijken, Mumbai is een echte stad; een stad met een centrum en bezienswaardigheden op loopafstand. De eerste dag hebben Karen en ik ons vergaapt aan het beroemde veel-sterren Taj Mahal hotel wat net naast India Gate ligt. India Gate (zie foto) is de beroemde poort waar kolonialen een eerste voet op Indiase bodem zetten na een misselijkmakende zeereis van enige weken. Vond ik er wat aan die poort? Nee, een log en onsympathiek uitziend gesteente waar een hele drom mensen zich uit verveling rondjes omheen wringt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: justify;font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Dag twee stond onmiskenbaar in het thema van het Engelse imperialisme. De dag begon en eindigde met een stadswandeling die ons van het ene koloniale gebouw naar het andere leidde. Tijdens zo'n tocht vraag je je af hoe Mumbai er zonder de Engelsen zou hebben uitgezien. Misschien wel niet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;De derde en tevens laatste dag vergaapte we ons aan Indiase trots, te weten het gastenverblijf waar Mahatma Ghandi verscheidene malen heeft verbleven met als hoogtepunt de lepel waar hij ooit mee heeft gegeten. Voorts bleek het strand waar menig Bollywood bewoner zo over te spreken is niet meer dan een met honden geinfesteerde zandbak te zijn, maar daar staat tegenover dat Mumbai op culinair gebied een tongstrelende ervaring was.   Mumbai heeft nog een follow-up over enige weken als ik het nachtleven onder de loep neem. Wordt vervolgd......................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36898430-1880503079520784442?l=magnificentindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/feeds/1880503079520784442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36898430&amp;postID=1880503079520784442' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36898430/posts/default/1880503079520784442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36898430/posts/default/1880503079520784442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/2007/08/mumbai.html' title='Mumbai'/><author><name>Laura/Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12486459113700295060</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/RvlO1-w8KTI/AAAAAAAAACA/eGfBdr9Ka64/s72-c/IMG_1239.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36898430.post-657261394926730440</id><published>2007-08-10T11:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-10T11:50:34.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sterallures</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mijn populariteit stijgt, althans in New Delhi. Voor de tweede maal ben ik 'gesnapt' door het oog van de camera tijdens een van mijn sociale activiteiten. Kennelijk was de kleinschalige Indiase White Sensation Party 'the place to be' afgelopen zaterdag, want de pers was massaal aanwezig. Ik had bedacht om het verplichte dodelijke witte tenue wat op te vrolijke met knalrode pumps en een rode waaier. Vermoed dat dat toch de aandacht heeft getrokken op een locatie waar iedereen in het wit verscheen.&lt;br /&gt;Lang leve mijn 'vierde anti-biotica kuur in een jaar tijd' als gevolg waarvan ik niet met een doorlopen en beschonken hoofd in de krant stond. Je moet weten dat mijn Indiase collegas gillend op me af komen rennen met hun krantenvodjes zodra ik daar levensgroot in verschijn. Sta dus bij voorkeur niet met een alcoholische versnapering in mijn handen in de krant.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/Rryycds2jII/AAAAAAAAABQ/hjqX1awHrGI/s1600-h/2007+08+09+Time+of+India+Delhi+Times-4.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/Rryycds2jII/AAAAAAAAABQ/hjqX1awHrGI/s400/2007+08+09+Time+of+India+Delhi+Times-4.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097145080355392642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36898430-657261394926730440?l=magnificentindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/feeds/657261394926730440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36898430&amp;postID=657261394926730440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36898430/posts/default/657261394926730440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36898430/posts/default/657261394926730440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/2007/08/sterallures.html' title='Sterallures'/><author><name>Laura/Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12486459113700295060</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/Rryycds2jII/AAAAAAAAABQ/hjqX1awHrGI/s72-c/2007+08+09+Time+of+India+Delhi+Times-4.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36898430.post-565611219504918080</id><published>2007-06-21T08:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T08:31:36.059-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Delhi Duchess</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Who is the Delhi Duchess? Well, that is me! My friend Shamrock (nickname) came up with this brilliant nickname once he learned that I come from a Dutch speaking country. The Duchess is no longer a nickname, it has become a phenomenon. People bow for the Duchess, kiss her hand, people have forgotten or never knew her real name, the Duchess is assisted by a personal assistant and a butler, emails and text messages are addressed to and signed by the Duchess. And that is not all, last Wednesday, on WORLD REFUGEE DAY, the Duchess made her first appearance in the Delhi top newspaper. My star is rising............................ (and so is my ego).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/RnqXvu3BMCI/AAAAAAAAABI/gq_3hCuvO5c/s1600-h/2007+06+20+Time+of+India+Delhi+Times.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/RnqXvu3BMCI/AAAAAAAAABI/gq_3hCuvO5c/s400/2007+06+20+Time+of+India+Delhi+Times.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078538376102096930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(text next to the picture)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;h2 style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Of gajras &amp; some great music… &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;A DIFFERENT SOUND: &lt;/b&gt;Rock shows and gigs have been rocking the capital all summer. But this musical do was slightly unusual. And it was the musicians who made this one different. The band that was performing called themselves the Powercuts, which is as &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Delhi&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; as it gets in the summer. Also, this was a retro band of expatriates from various embassies. They played everything, from old favourites like Beatles and Elvis Presley to Johnny Cash. After a break, they played hard rock to suit the tastes of the younger crowd. &lt;b&gt;AND THE CROWD LOVED IT: &lt;/b&gt;The guests loved their performance as they got to hear the best of all kinds of music. A member from the band, Kerstin, who hails from &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;Sweden&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;, said, “I enjoy playing in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Delhi&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;. The crowd here really appreciates good music. It’s fun playing.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;THE HEAT DIDN’T BOTHER THEM: &lt;/b&gt;Most of the guests were from various embassies, and the place was choc-a-bloc with avid rock fans. Pretty Julia Arevalo was a little troubled because of the summer heat. “I am feeling a little hot,” she said, and added, “But who cares about the heat when you have such good music!” And all her friends nodded in agreement. That’s the spirit, we say! &lt;b&gt;LONG NIGHT OF DANCING: &lt;/b&gt;Jack, one among the group from the American embassy, was enjoying himself thoroughly. “I’ve been here with all my friends since early in the evening and I am really enjoying the music,” he enthused. Aftab played the host, and went around asking the guests if they were enjoying themselves. And they sure did! &lt;b&gt;GAJRAS OR EARRINGS? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;We noticed that a Dutch girl, Lauren, had worn gajras as earrings. She said, “They smell so good and fresh, I just had to buy them from the florist.” She made quite a style statement by wearing them like earrings and not in her hair. One of her friends told us that everyone called her ‘The Dutch-ess’. Unusual nickname, unusual earrings! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;(Contributed by Pallavi Pasricha &amp; Piyali Dasgupta)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36898430-565611219504918080?l=magnificentindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/feeds/565611219504918080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36898430&amp;postID=565611219504918080' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36898430/posts/default/565611219504918080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36898430/posts/default/565611219504918080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/2007/06/delhi-duchess.html' title='The Delhi Duchess'/><author><name>Laura/Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12486459113700295060</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/RnqXvu3BMCI/AAAAAAAAABI/gq_3hCuvO5c/s72-c/2007+06+20+Time+of+India+Delhi+Times.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36898430.post-8146563495794586433</id><published>2007-06-10T00:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-10T00:45:09.112-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Taj Mahal</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span  lang="EN-GB" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;The Taj Mahal was built by Emperor Shah Jahan as a memorial for his second wife, Mumtaz Mahal, who died giving birth to their fourteenth child in 1631. The construction of the mausoleum was completed in 1653. Many have tried to describe its beauty: &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;“Described as the most extravagant monument ever built for love, this sublime Mughal mausoleum is &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;India&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;’s tourist emblem” (source: the Lonely Planet)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;“Many people think it is one of the most beautiful buildings ever built.” (source: Wikipedia)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"  style="font-size:10;"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"  style="font-size:10;"&gt;“&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;India&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;'s most stunning monument” (source: BBC)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Monday morning 2 April, Hero and I left for the Taj Mahal in &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Agra&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;. With the help of a handsome Indian man we managed to purchase a train ticket in only minutes and hop on the train just seconds before departure time. Although the journey takes at least 2,5 hours, with Hero it only seemed minutes. I should mention that we hadn’t seen each other in seven months so any opportunity to catch up was greedily taken up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;An auto-rickshaw endowed with a screaming pink interior took us to the closest Pizza hut as we believed that one cannot possibly marvel at what is called the most extravagant monument on non-disputed &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Indian territory&lt;/st1:place&gt;, on an empty stomach.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;After paying the entrance fee and equipped with shoe covers, only for foreigners as locals are supposed to go barefoot, we slowly made our way to the Taj. Thrilled about the treasure that was just ahead of us and wondering if it would indeed live up to our sky-high expectations we reached the entrance arch to the Taj. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;     &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Well, it did not. It only took my breath away as I was overwhelmed by the surprise, or should I say shock, that it did not live up to my expectations. I must admit that the Taj Mahal is surely a visit worth, and the legends and romance surrounding the Taj Mahal make it somehow unique, but it didn’t radiate the magic I expected. I wanted to be touched by the enchantment, to be left with my mouth half open absorbed by its stunning beauty. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;                &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/RmupOO3BMBI/AAAAAAAAABA/3Co30hzOjkQ/s1600-h/CIMG1787.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/RmupOO3BMBI/AAAAAAAAABA/3Co30hzOjkQ/s400/CIMG1787.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074335467135119378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p face="georgia" style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I feared that my senses were satisfied and that from now on I would be totally indifferent towards all historical monuments as I have seen too many during my past journeys. Thank heaven, my next trip proved me wrong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36898430-8146563495794586433?l=magnificentindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/feeds/8146563495794586433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36898430&amp;postID=8146563495794586433' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36898430/posts/default/8146563495794586433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36898430/posts/default/8146563495794586433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/2007/06/taj-mahal.html' title='Taj Mahal'/><author><name>Laura/Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12486459113700295060</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/RmupOO3BMBI/AAAAAAAAABA/3Co30hzOjkQ/s72-c/CIMG1787.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36898430.post-4512801422967627069</id><published>2007-03-16T22:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-10T11:22:36.258-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jaipur</title><content type='html'>&lt;i style=""&gt;16-18 februari 2007&lt;/i&gt; En als je dan een weekendje niet ziek zwak en misselijk bent dan trek je erop uit. Aangezien ik in India als een prinsesje leef (dagelijks hulp in de huishouding, een nacht body-guard voor de deur, met de taxi naar het werk, etc.) werd het tijd om wat paleizen aan te doen in Jaipur. En ik was niet alleen, Prins Bernard vergezelde me. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/RfuEsV2whEI/AAAAAAAAAAk/CKilV9DwGiw/s1600-h/IMG_0485.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 144px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/RfuEsV2whEI/AAAAAAAAAAk/CKilV9DwGiw/s320/IMG_0485.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042770105087329346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;De busrit van Delhi naar Jaipur nam minder dan 5 uur in beslag en was al een ervaring op zich. Ik denk dat ik de meeste facetten van de Indiase samenleving noch voor-de-handliggend noch logisch en al helemaal niet zinvol vind, maar wel bijzonder fascinerend. Zo ook het verkeer op de weg. Alles wat ook maar enigszins kan voortbewegen tref je aan op het wegdek, van door kamelen voortgetrokken karren tot aan vraatzucht lijdende trucks (zie foto). Iedereen heeft zo zijn eigen regels, maar er is één gemeenschappelijk nagestreefde norm: stoppen voor het meest onnozele beest op deze aardbol, de koe. Een tweede observatie zijn de strepen op het wegdek. Al snel krijg je door dat deze slechts ter decoratie dienen en je er het best midden op kunt rijden om zodoende het wegdek maximaal te benutten. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Over het geheel genomen was het uitstapje een groot succes ware het niet dat ik één grote teleurstelling moest verwerken: de huidige Maharaja van Jaipur een saaie ouwe bok met slechts één vrouw en knarsende knieproblemen. Daar had ik me toch wel iets romantischer bij voorgesteld. Een gedeelte van zijn paleis is opengesteld voor publiek, waaronder het gastenverblijf, de kazerne en de vergaderruimten waar met name wapens en koninklijke feestkleding werden tentoongesteld. Het meest intrigerende vond ik de kleding van de 250kg wegende Maharaja, wat een worst van een vent moet dat zijn geweest. Vraag me nog steeds af wat ie nou percies deed met zijn 108(!) vrouwen. De gids gaf nog een extra dimensie aan het geheel door ons af en toe een standje te geven wanneer&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;we aanvullende informatie gaven; hij was immers de gids. Jaha, het is van het grootste belang je plaats te kennen in dit kaste systeem. En zo heb ik ook &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;geleerd dat je met snauwen en je stem verheffen iemand die zijn plaats is vergeten weer terug zet. Deze omgangsvormen zijn wel even wennen.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/RfuGoV2whFI/AAAAAAAAAAs/KvCXhSvYEk0/s1600-h/IMG_0433.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 167px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/RfuGoV2whFI/AAAAAAAAAAs/KvCXhSvYEk0/s320/IMG_0433.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042772235391108178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Het hoogtepunt van Jaipur was het rondstruinen door de bazaar waar mensen voor Nederlandse begrippen ongekende arbeid stonden te verrichten. Menigeen stond gehuld in een stoomwolk boven een enorme pot met kokend water. Met een stok werd zo nu en dan een gekleurde draperie omhoog gehesen om de kleur ervan te matchen met een kleurenkaart. Vervolgens hebben we een theepauze gehouden in een lokaal theehuisje waar in een grote pot Chai wordt gebrouwen. Staat aanvankelijk je lepeltje strak van de suiker al snel bereikt je bloedsuikerspiegel z’n hoogtepunt waarna je tijdelijk in een staat van hyperactiviteit verkeert. Ik vermoed dat dergelijke drankjes in Nederland onder de Opiumwet als stimulerende drug verboden zijn. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;De volgende dag sliepen de koninklijke lieden een gat in de dag met als gevolg dat er slechts ruimte was voor een enkele activiteit: het Tiger Fort. Via een &lt;st1:metricconverter productid="2 km" st="on"&gt;2 km&lt;/st1:metricconverter&gt; kronkelende weg omhoog bereikten we het fort. Na een intensieve inspectie van de fortmuren bereikte we het bordeel van de Maharaja. Het bordeel bestond uit kleine kamertjes waar niet meer dan een bed inpaste, maar dat was waarschijnlijk ook alles wat die smeerpijp nodig had. Kleine, smalle donkere gangetjes boden de Maharaja de mogelijkheid om ongemerkt van de ene kamer naar de andere te glijden. Schandelijk.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Op veilige afstand van deze poel van verderf hebben we Jaipur zien baden in de ondergaande zon. Jaipur heeft met stip een plaats in mijn top 3 zonsondergangen weten te bemachtigen. Jaipur was een succes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gastschrijver Bernard: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;pre&gt;" Zo. Ik ben weer terug in Nederland en heb vlotjes&lt;br /&gt;mijn leven van sex, drugs, en rok en rol weer&lt;br /&gt;opgepakt. Van mij geen begripvolle huilteksten als&lt;br /&gt;WHOEOEAAAA welk een faaantaaastisch land maar welk een&lt;br /&gt;dramatische armoede; van schooierige nog bloedende&lt;br /&gt;geamputeerde ledematen in rolstoelen en vlooige&lt;br /&gt;kinderen die kranterige vodjes proberen te verkopen.&lt;br /&gt;Welnee. Ze redden zich prima daar met zun allen. En&lt;br /&gt;dat met een vlotjes groeiende economie in het&lt;br /&gt;vooruitzicht.&lt;br /&gt;Hier zitten we, in Jaipur, met een tevreden&lt;br /&gt;chaidrinker in een theehuis. Laura zit achteraan en de&lt;br /&gt;man vooraan heeft nog nooit in zijn leven een&lt;br /&gt;fotograag gezien. Nog steeds staart iedereen je daar&lt;br /&gt;aan alsof zojuist&lt;br /&gt;"de blanke in zijn ruimtevaartuig, hier, bij ons nog&lt;br /&gt;wel, is geland", blijft apart. Om er vervolgens mee om&lt;br /&gt;te gaan dat ik me uiteindelijk bedacht dat ik een&lt;br /&gt;koele popster was. En laura zei me geloof ik zich te&lt;br /&gt;verbeelden een supermodel te zijn. Alles kan, niets is&lt;br /&gt;te gek tegenwoordig. Das t mooie van India.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;salut&lt;br /&gt;BB&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36898430-4512801422967627069?l=magnificentindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/feeds/4512801422967627069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36898430&amp;postID=4512801422967627069' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36898430/posts/default/4512801422967627069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36898430/posts/default/4512801422967627069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/2007/03/jaipur.html' title='Jaipur'/><author><name>Laura/Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12486459113700295060</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/RfuEsV2whEI/AAAAAAAAAAk/CKilV9DwGiw/s72-c/IMG_0485.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36898430.post-2080664874655499728</id><published>2007-03-01T02:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T03:05:45.391-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bernard in New Delhi</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/Reax9X_HCVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ED15dP3ImU4/s1600-h/IMG_0410.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/Reax9X_HCVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ED15dP3ImU4/s320/IMG_0410.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5036908901229332818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Hulde aan mijn eerste bezoeker uit Nederland!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fantastisch om een maatje te hebben die elke avond als je moe uit je werk komt de deur voor je opendoet; met wie je even een biertje op het balkon kunt drinken; met wie je heerlijk kunt rondbanjeren in achterstandswijkjes waar je als vrouw alleen met ‘effective male protection’ terecht kunt; die het koken overneemt wanneer de activiteit meer dan twee pannen in beslag neemt; die je huis inricht; met wie je non-stop kunt ouwehoeren &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;en&lt;/span&gt; die de boodschappen voor je draagt. Kortom, de ideale huisgenoot. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Bernard heeft ook erg van genoten van New Delhi zo bleek uit de volgende sms-jes die hij me heeft gestuurd:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;12-02: Ik word opgelicht bij t leven!! 70, 50 uiteindelijk 40 om naar die markt te gaan!! Vuile ratten!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;21-02: Wat zijn t toch een stel gotvergeten paardelullen. Bij toeval sta ik buiten, zie ik engineer aan mast werken. 5 min later, stroom weg. Ben al vanaf half 10 bezig.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;21-02: En die enorme lamzakken aan de overkant, die nietsnutten, ze zitten er bij alsof ze een avondje rtl4 zitten te kijken! Werkelijk. Ik snap die Britten wel.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Bernard, ik vond het een supermaand, dank je!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36898430-2080664874655499728?l=magnificentindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/feeds/2080664874655499728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36898430&amp;postID=2080664874655499728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36898430/posts/default/2080664874655499728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36898430/posts/default/2080664874655499728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/2007/03/bernard-in-new-delhi.html' title='Bernard in New Delhi'/><author><name>Laura/Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12486459113700295060</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_48K0GAMr_sM/Reax9X_HCVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ED15dP3ImU4/s72-c/IMG_0410.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36898430.post-116473328721870320</id><published>2006-11-28T08:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-28T09:12:24.430-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What other people write about me........</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;A wilde ride&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;By Chanda Yarborough&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2364/4040/1600/DSCN3552.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2364/4040/200/DSCN3552.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;This might be &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;one of the funniest things I've witnessed in awhile. As we were leaving a party at Lodhi Garden on Friday nigh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;t, we spotted a elephant walking down the road. It appeared that the elephant was wa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ndering by itself witho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ut a mahout, but as it turned out, there were tw&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;o mahouts sleeping in the basket on top.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Like most people would do, Louise thought to run into t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2364/4040/1600/DSCN3557.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2364/4040/200/DSCN3557.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;he middle of the road and take a few photos. Lauren thought other&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;wise. She got the bright idea to hitch a ride ON the elephant. With &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Ani and G's assistance, she asked to jump on. Within seconds &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;she was&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; on top and slowly making her way down Lodhi Road. I opted not to jump o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;n, but I did stick my head out the car window to capture as many photos as possible. It wasn't the fastest ride ever, but certainly one of the coolest. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Where else can you ride an elephant in the road at 1 in the morning?!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36898430-116473328721870320?l=magnificentindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/feeds/116473328721870320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36898430&amp;postID=116473328721870320' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36898430/posts/default/116473328721870320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36898430/posts/default/116473328721870320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/2006/11/what-other-people-write-about-me.html' title='What other people write about me........'/><author><name>Laura/Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12486459113700295060</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36898430.post-116464480725723533</id><published>2006-11-27T07:43:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-27T08:38:02.190-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The importance of humour</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Understanding          the sense of humour of a nation is a key element of understanding the          culture and the language. Moreover it is a crucial aspect of developing and maintaining relationships          with people from that country. Before you even try to understand their local language you should intensively study and analyze their jokes. One way of doing this is to nick a joke book from the guest house where you are no longer staying. Below you find a selection of Indian jokes from Khushwant Singh's Joke Book. According to my Indian colleagues it contains the best Indian jokes. Well judge for yourself. In my opinion we cannot all be as witty as the Poms and straightforward as the Dutchies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Russians&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three Russian officials found themselves in jail. A Press reporter was allowed to interview them. He asked the first man, "Why were you sent to prison?" "I was late coming to the office, so the boss ordered me to be sent to jail.&lt;br /&gt;When asked the same, the second person replied. "I went to the office before the scheduled time. The boss thought I was spying for a foreign country, so he had me locked up.&lt;br /&gt;The third prisoner on having the question repeated, replied:"I arrived at the office on the dot. The boss ordered my arrest on the grounds that if I was punctual to the minute I must own an imprted and not a Russian watch."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Internal Affairs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question: Why is the Indian Government the most neutral in the world?&lt;br /&gt;Answ: Because it does not even interfere in its own affairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Elections&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;President Zia-ul-Haq's trusted barber seemed to have become infected by the polular demand for the restoration of democracy. One morning while clipping the President's hair he asked: "Gareeb pur war! when are you going to have elections in Pakistan?&lt;br /&gt;The President ignored the question with the contempt it deserved from a military dictator. At the next hair-cutting session, the barber asked: "Aali jah! isn't it time you redeemed your promise to have elections?"&lt;br /&gt;The President controlled his temper and remained silent.&lt;br /&gt;On the third hair-clipping session the barber again blurted out: "Banda Nawaz, the awam (common people) are clamouring for eclections, when will you order them?"&lt;br /&gt;The President could not contain himself anymore and exploded: "Gaddar! I will have you taught a lesson you will never forget". And ordered his minions to take away the barber and give him ten lashes on his buttocks.&lt;br /&gt;The barber fell at the great man's feet and whined: "Zill-i-Ilahi (shadow of God) I eat your salt; how can I become a gaddar (traitor)? I only mentioned elections to make my job easier."&lt;br /&gt;"What do you mean?"demanded Zia-ul-Haq.&lt;br /&gt;"Every time I utter the word election, You Excellency's hair stands on edge and is much easier to clip."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36898430-116464480725723533?l=magnificentindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/feeds/116464480725723533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36898430&amp;postID=116464480725723533' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36898430/posts/default/116464480725723533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36898430/posts/default/116464480725723533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/2006/11/importance-of-humour_27.html' title='The importance of humour'/><author><name>Laura/Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12486459113700295060</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36898430.post-116231087582164108</id><published>2006-10-31T08:03:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-02T00:23:48.116-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Varanasi</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Vrijdagavondavond 27 oktober om 18.30 vertrok de trein stipt vanaf New Delhi railway station richting Varanasi. Eens in je leven moet je een nachttrein, derde klas, in India nemen, gewoon voor het ervaren. En het was een ervaring! Kinderen als aapjes van het ene bed naar het andere slingerend, andere kinderen op hun knieen op de grond om voor een paar roepees de door reizigers achtergelaten troep op te ruimen. Een moment zal ik nooit meer vergeten. Een treincompartiment wordt gedeeld met acht mensen. Helaas konden wij als groep van acht niet met z'n allen bij elkaar zitten, maar dit zeer werd gecompenseerd door de aanwezigheid van een heel bijzondere Sikh vrouw. Verbaasde het me al dat deze vrouw ongegeneerd boeren liet, ik was met stomheid geslagen toen ze haar linkerbil opduwde om vervolgens mijn reisgenoot Chanda die naast haar zat te bedwelmen in een onzaligmakende luid knetterende scheet! Dat was pas een cultuur shock!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De nachtrust was kort en kwalitatief slecht. De airco draaide volle toeren waardoor je tot op het bot koud was, het bed was uiteraard te kort, de hotsende bewegingen van de trein weerspiegelden zich in mijn slaap waarin ik zeker tien keer ben ontwaakt, en dan nog maar niet te spreken van de geluiden van mijn bijzondere Sikh vrouw die behalve iets in haar darmen ook iets in haar keel had. In tegenstelling tot het eerste wilde het laatste er niet uit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'s Ochtends om een uur of 8 kwamen we aan in Varanasi. De taxi dropte ons op de mainroad waarvandaan we door smalle slingerende gangetjes, slechts voor voetgangers toegankelijk, bij het hotel aankwamen. De gangetjes leken wel openbare toiletten voor mens en dier, met name koeien vlaaien, en dan moet je bedenken dat de meerderheid van de inwoners op blote voeten rondloopt. De stank varieerde van 'nog net draaglijk' tot 'volkomen misselijkmakend'. De meest heilige stad van India is een beerput!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Varanasi, d&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1060/4133/1600/7_.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 162px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1060/4133/200/7_.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;e stad van Shiva, gelegen aan de Ganges, wordt door Hindoes beschouwd als de heiligste stad in India. Hindoe pilgrims en sadhoes komen naar de Ganges om zich te ontdoen van hun zonden. Bovendien is deze stad is door velen uitverkoren als ideale sterfplek omdat het 'moksha' zou bieden, bevrijding uit de cyclus van geboorte en dood. Vo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;or de een vormt de Ganges een belangrijke link naar spiritualiteit, voor de ander is de Ganges een openbare badplaats, een wasplaats, een gigantisch openbaar zwembad danwel een rioolafwatering. Waterproefjes h&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ebben aangetoond dat het water in de Ganges 1,5 miljoen 'faecel coliform bacteria' p&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;er 100 ml water bevat, terwijl de toegestane hoeveelheid voor veilig badwater 500 bedraagt!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Het meest bijzondere waren de 'ghats', de stenen trappen die naar het water in de Ganges leiden waar rond zonsondergang en zonsopgang gebeden worden gehouden. Zaterdagavond, net voor zonsondergang hebben we een roeiboot gehuurd (met roeier) waarmee we langs de ghats zijn gevaren. De meest bekende ghats zijn de 'burning ghats' waar mensen in het openbaar gecremeerd worden. Aangezien Varanasi een gewilde plek is om te sterven draaien de burning ghats 24 uur per dag en liggen de lijken, gewikkeld in kleurige doeken, op de trappen naast de brandstapels op hun beurt te wachten. Aan de andere kant van het gebouw lagen immens hoge stapels brandhout eveneens op 'moment supreme' te wachten. De familieleden, sommige mannen kaalgeschoren om hun rouw te tonen, leken maar wat rond te hangen. Na de verbranding werd de brand geblust met Ganges water om zodoende het lichaam nog eenmaal met Ganges water te reinigen. De grote opstijgende rookpluimen met daarin rondvliegende aasvreters hebben wel indruk gemaakt. Nog meer indruk maakte het ronddrijvende lijk dat we passeerden in de roeiboot. De gids wist te vertellen dat het een zwangere vrouw betrof (zwangere vrouwen, sadhoes en melaatsen mogen niet gecremeerd worden).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Het geluk lachte ons toe, want precies dit weekend was er een&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1060/4133/1600/IMG_0240.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1060/4133/200/IMG_0240.3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Hindoe festival, Chat Puja, waarbij bij zonsondergang en zonsopgang de ghats waren bedolven onder een zee van fel gekleurde sari's van biddende, zingende en offerende vrouwen. Voor de zonsopgang ceremonie werd de wekker om 5 am gezet, om wederom met een boot langs de ghats te varen, maar het was het absoluut waard. Het was adembenemend, alsof je in een heel andere wereld terecht kwam. Het is moeilijk te bevatten dat een rivier die al eeuwenlang als zo heilig wordt beschouwd tegelijkertijd zo ernstig wordt vervuild. Een bonus was dat we halverwege onze boottocht een luxe motorboot tegenkwamen met niemand minder dan Amitabh Bachchan, de grootste Bollywood ster aller tijden, aan boord.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zondag 29 oktober namen we de trein weer terug. Dit keer duurde de reis 19 uur! Maar met zeven reisgenoten en een pak kaarten ging de tijd sneller dan de trein die met 50 km/uur vooruitkroop!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36898430-116231087582164108?l=magnificentindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/feeds/116231087582164108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36898430&amp;postID=116231087582164108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36898430/posts/default/116231087582164108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36898430/posts/default/116231087582164108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://magnificentindia.blogspot.com/2006/10/varanasi_31.html' title='Varanasi'/><author><name>Laura/Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12486459113700295060</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
