I know – I’m jumping ahead – but right now I’m in Singalila – on the Nepal/India border – and what a travel day this has been. I promise I’ll jump back to Kaziranga – but I need to get this day done and dusted.

After last night – check on the Blog for Nov 8 when I get around to writing it – we set our alarms for an early wake-up – 3:45 AM in my case. We have a long, long, long day in front of us.

Alarm goes off – and it is so early – I forget where the cell phone is sitting! So it seems like I’m going to wake everyone before I find the thing and shut it off! (Yup – I woke Helmut and Andrea – as they later tell me… sigh).

Ok – I’m up. I must pack – and of course I’ve strewn stuff everywhere. We have a 4 hour drive first, then a short 35 minutes flight, then another 4 hour drive before we get to our next Homestay – on the border between Nepal and India in the foothills of the Himalayas.

I carefully plan my packing to have my large suitcase full, my carry-on light (I know they will weigh it), and I’ll have to sling my camera bag and backpack over my shoulder. That means my purse with my US Passport, all my credit cards, and my spare reading glasses are going into the Carry-on. I have definitely over-packed – and my shopping yesterday doesn’t help – but I’m confident I’ll smile my way thru.

4:45 – I’m drinking a quick cup of coffee – saying good bye to our charming host and his staff – as I write in their guest book – we arrived as Guests – We left as good friends. Amazingly beautiful Homestay – Wow.

Abi arrives a bit late – but assures us it’s no problem. Our flight to Bagdogra isn’t until 1:15 – We’ll be fine.

They load us into the van – we say final farewells – and we’re off.

At 5:15 the roads are blissfully empty – except of course for the goats and dogs, people walking, Tuk-Tuks, Bikes, scooters, motorcycles, and the occasional car and truck.

Drivers here have nerves of steel and the reflexes of Batman.

Bumpy road out to the paved road, thru the lovely village of the Tea People of Assame – and onto a main paved road that runs parallel to the border of Kaziranga Park.

No Tiger’s make their presence known – but we count at least a dozen Rhinos that have come to the marshland that borders the Park to munch on the lovely fresh greens this morning.

Once past the Western End of the National Park – the road curves gradually through villages and towns. There are sections with construction, there are magnicent Temples (mostly Hindu – but other religions are also represented) – Market after Market – including a cow market and the road gets busier and busier.

We eventually stop for a bathroom break and breakfast. The plan is to visit the ladies/men’s rooms – then grab just a quick coffee before heading back to the bus to eat the breakfast our Homestay packed for us.

But our driver has ordered Puri – and I’ve never seen Puri before. Not like these anyway – they are huge round puff balls of Onion flavoured bread that are crunchy and thin and DELICIOUS. We order that – then Parata (another type of breakfast bread), and then Dosa – the large pancake that looks like a crepe but is crisp and light. Oh Yum.

Breakfast done – we’re off. Back on the road and driving past miles and miles of Assame Tea Plantations.

Finally we are going up the hill – that’s an understatement – it’s a fairly decent sized Mountain actually – that separates the tea plains of Assame from the City of Guwahati – 3 Million people (and at least 4 Million Cows and the same number of goats).

Up, Up, Up the road curves in a car swaying series of sharp 135 degree turns. Our driver handles not only the curves – but the required dodging in and out with nerves of steel.

At the top we get a brief respite – and then we must drive down the other side. Stalls selling Pineapples crowd the edges of the road – with cars haphazardly parked while folks shop. The road continues to snake down in a series of 135 degree turns that remind me of a roller coaster ride I hated years ago.

Eventually – we are in Guwahati – and now must brave the construction, trucks, goats, people, scooters… etc… of this very large city. An hour later we are safely at the airport – my palms sweaty from gripping the metal bar that separates me from the Passenger Seat.

This should be the easy part. Just get out of our van, get into the airport, get on the plane, get to Bagdogra. And from there a quick 4 hour ride to Singalila – home to Red Pandas – the purpose of this part of our adventure.

But first I check my messages – My grand-daughter Sophie was in a competition called D-Voice – and of the 25 participants – she’s made the top 3 finalists and is going on to an inter-collegiate competition with the top 3 singers from 5 other Schools! I’m so proud of her.

Back to getting into the airport. There’s a military gun truck stationed in the roadway – desert camouflage with a guy in the turret aiming a machine gun at us! OMG. We walk past – he’s not being friendly – and enter the airport.

Our passports, Visas, and tickets are scanned by another solider – and we’re allowed in.

Now the luggage that will go inside the plane is run thru a scanner and then zip-tied shut. No touching them again. In the rush – not only is my green large suitcase taken – but so is my burgundy carry-on. My comments are ignored – my carry-on is now zip-tied shut – and it contains my purse! I have my Canadian passport but I have no credit cards and only 50 rupees in my pocket.

Abi pushes us (we’re apparently later than he’d like) around the airport – finds the check-in counter – and they want to weigh everything. We’re only allowed 7 kg of carry-on – but fortunately all the camera gear doesn’t count.

For security – Abi tells us – no food, no water – so we dump our precious water – and Helmut and Andrea down a small water bottle filled with rum that they have been carrying for a night cap. Since it’s full – I’m guessing there were no night caps… but hey. I dump my precious water. We left the sandwiches packed by the HomeStay in the van for the driver – another mistake it turns out.

My suitcase plus my carry-on do not pass muster. I have to pay over-weight or over count – or over something – and it’s 14,000 rupees – that’s almost $200. With my credit cards out of reach inside my zip-tied closed bag – Abi has to cover that expense for me. I’m going to owe him plenty when this is done.

But I’m not going to argue now. My suitcase and my carry-on (with my credit cards) disappears into the luggage conveyor- and we head for security.

Completely different rules from what we were told to expect. Has Abi never done this before? Did the rules change in the last year – who knows. Food and drink are no problem!

We quickly get to the security check-point – and I am forced to go to a different section – leaving Abi and Helmut and Andrea. I make sure that Abi has seen that I’ve been singled out – and he smiles and waves – it’s ok.

Turns out that there is a security line for women only. The men have a choice of at least 6 lines – we have just one. Andrea quickly joins me. I’m so relieved.

It’s now that we discover that while liquids are just fine – replicas of endangered species are NOT. Andrea’s fake tiger paw – which she’s been carrying around from trip to trip for years – is confiscated.

And then we find out why there’s women’s only line. We must individually go into a curtained private booth for a body search. They don’t touch us (thank goodness) – but they wand us looking for metal. The zippers in my safari pants are found and quickly ignored.

I’m out – Andrea’s out without her fake tiger paw – and with the remains of the Rum and a sandwich from the Homestay she’s forgotten to throw away.

Sheesh.

We re-gather at our gate – wait to board our flight – and I quickly realize why it’s a good thing that they took my carry-on. This plane is just about the smallest one I’ve seen for years. And that’s counting the seaplane in St. Croix. There’s no room for even the smallest carry-on – I’m lucky my camera bag fits in the overhead.

The Flight (although about an hour late leaving) is fast and painless. I have been assigned a window seat – and the view is stunning. There’s a river that runs below us – glistening in the noon sun.

We land at Bagdogra – and quickly de-plane and grab our luggage. Thank goodness both of mine are safely back in my hands. I’m so happy to see my carry-on – with not only my credit cards – but with my US Passport!

This time we have two drivers. And Two cars. The smaller car is filled with our luggage – the larger one will be carrying us for the four hour drive to the Nepal border.

After about 30 minutes of lovely scenery filled with more tea plantations and ladies gathering the tea leaves by hand, filling baskets and transferring their precious burdens into trucks (or bicycles) for transport to the processing plant – we enter the beginnings of the Himalayas.

I’m not prepared.

I’m sitting in the middle of the back seat of the car – no seat belt – no actual seat – and the road quickly becomes a one and a half lane – but two way road – up and up and up. Curve after curve after curve. If there is traffic in the other direction – and there’s LOTS of traffic in the other direction – we must squeeze left – and they must squeeze right to get past.

If I thought the drive to the airport in Guwahati was scary – it was nothing compared to this.

I’m either gasping for breath or grabbing the left or right head rest to keep from slamming into either Andrea or Abi.

Our driver literally has nerves of steel – he doesn’t slow down for anything! We swerve into the lane on the right to pass car after car after truck – then quickly swerve back into our lane in the face of on-coming traffic. Meanwhile we’re climbing about 2000 meters into the Mountains.

Amazingly – there are actually villages – even small towns – occasionally squeezed on ether side of the road. When we get to a town, not only are we dodging the other traffic – there are parked cars to swerve around, people crossing the road – and after it becomes dark – neon everywhere!

My stomach was never meant to experience this kind of driving.

Abi realizes I’m getting just a touch upset – and offers to switch places with me. He takes the middle seat and I try to fasten the seat belt on the passenger seat. Won’t work.

So now I’m squeezed between the door and Abi – while we continue our upward swerving climb. At least on our side of the road is the Mountain – not the jaw dropping plunge into nothing that is on the right side.

I keep thinking – in 5 days – I have to repeat this trip – alone. On the other side of the road. I wish I’d stayed in nice safe comfy Kaziranga.

I keep asking – how much longer. And it’s never just 10 minutes. The time is endless – and my stomach is getting more and more agitated.

Finally – Finally – we enter the last of the little villages – which is having a cultural festival. There are folks sitting in folding seats on the right edge of the road – and performers – including clearly the Mayor of the Town on the left.

They separate long enough to motion us down a rutted dirt path – aka nearly vertical ‘road’ down towards our Homestay.

A few more swerves and curves and we’re in another village center. This time, our drivers get out to find the driver of a truck that is parked blocking the entrance to the ‘road?’ To our Homestay. He moves – we drive down – and end up at a prison block.

Metal walls in front and on the sides. Buildings in varying states of decay and construction – none of which look habitable.

Even Helmut and Andrea – who are truly seasoned travellers – are alarmed. Abi has told us that while he’s stayed at Singalila before – he’s never stayed in this Homestay. I’m thinking – it’s a scam. There is no Homestay – we’re sleeping in the car. Helmut must be tuned to my brain because he says – well – we can always sleep in the car.

Oh dear.

Then the car doors open – and a young man with a smiling face greets us and gestures to the one door that actually looks like a door. We enter the Homestay to discover we’re on the ground floor – and our rooms are on the 2nd floor. We climb up and are shown our rooms.

I’m in the Sapphire Room – a Queen bed, my own toilet – and a Balcony! Helmut and Andrea are across the hall with a king bed – and Abi is at the end of the hall. Up one more flight is the common area – very lovely if a bit on the cold (temperature) side – and there sit two folks from England near Cambridge. They arrived this morning – and have already seen a Red Panda.

Our hosts give us each a cup of tea (I drink hot water, Helmut gets coffee), and we’re told that dinner is served at 7:00.

There’s great internet – there’s lot of space – the folks seem nice – but my stomach is not interested. It is still thinking about the drive up the Mountain – and trust me – I’m fairly sure I can not eat anything.

We set-up our rooms – then re-group for dinner. They have set each group – us, the couple from England, and the drivers, at separate tables – which is a shame – I was really hoping to chat with the folks from England.

They serve a multi-course meal of Indian Specialities from the region – but I can’t put anything into my stomach. I just want to curl up in my nice warm bed. And why is my bed warm? They have electric Mattress heaters!

Finally dinner is over and I can escape back to my room. Never has any space looked so lovely.

Despite the dogs barking – that will go on all night – my bed is warm, it’s a bit on the firm side – which I like – and I’m done.

Signing off to face another day in surprising, amazing, lovely once you get past the driving, India.

I’m so glad I came.

The Soup Lady