Blowing horns in Incredible India

Oh yes, ladies and gentlemen: your favourite heroes (finally) made it to...INDIA!!

We arrived in Delhi very early the morning of the second of December (I will now light a candle on this date every year) and after a quick nap we left the hotel armed with a small hindi vocabulary ("no thanks", "no" and "thanks") and still sleepy/jetlagged/confused/amazed and the like. As soon as we try to consult THE book (for the pagans: the lonely planet guide), a very nice man approaches us and advises us to go to the Tourist Information Centre. And so we find ourselves, as guided by a power bigger than ourselves, in a Tuc-Tuc in the middle of Delhi's traffic, and it is here that we have a glimpse of what we will recognise later on as a complete new set of rules in terms of driving.

Our visit to the Tourist office, which was supposed to provide us with some vague information about the city, restaurants, ways to travel through india, etc., made instead sure that we would leave for Rajastan the day after with a full package far ten days (and then booked trains and flights for later on till christmas). We are still pazzled about how exactly that happened, and we also read that Indian people can be pushy, but still...I remember getting angry and trying to stop the inevitable process, not wanting to take out my card...i sincerely don't know! The sure thing is that the morning of the 3rd our personal driver Lucky was waiting for us outside the hotel and we left for Rajastan!

Leeds is nothing like Lebanon

Hey, sorry for the radio silence, but we have been charging round northern India (actually fairly slowly) but have been disinclined to blog while we absorb the sub-continent madness. But just to polish off the ME while it is still fresh(ish) in my mind...

After crossing the border with Syria we travelled to Baalbek in the beautiful Bekaa valley, Lebanon's wine growing region. As well as housing perhaps the most impressive set of Roman/Greek ruins in the ME, the area is also famous for being the home of Hezbollah. The first impression of Lebanon we got was of tanks, heavily armed soldiers and checkpoints. That remains throughout a lot of the country, particularly in Beirut where you have to be careful where you point your camera. Lebanon is very different from Syria. There is tight security, but people are free to speak their minds and exercise democratic choice. From architecture to language, there is a heavy French influence in Lebanon, with which much of the Christian population associates so as to distinguish itself from the Arabic culture, so it was refreshing for us to be able to communicate beyond our usual (pitiful) attempts in Arabic.

In stark contrast to the close security pressures of the country, the people we met were open, generous and extremely hospitable. We were lucky enough to be taken in by one such family when we found ourselves unexpectedly spending a night in a town called Zahle on our way to Beirut. An enquiry as the whereabouts of somewhere for lunch turned into us spending 2 nights with the Bilezikjian family on our way into and out of the capital. Generous to a fault, we really enjoyed being able to talk to Joelle and family beyond our usual bar-room conversations. We were made to feel very much at home and part of the family for the duration of our brief visit.

We went on to visit Laura down in Saida in Southern Lebanon and spent a few nights in Beirut. The streets of Beirut throb to the sound of techno and house music, packed in the evenings with young people out to enjoy themselves in a very hedonistic euro-style party. In the end, we were left with the impression of a country under a false calm. People told us of their fear of resumption of war with Israel, and in Beirut you gain a sense of the fragility of the peace that exists. But the people of Lebanon do not seem willing to succumb to the threats of violence and go about their lives determined to make the most of their circumstances, enjoying the lifestyle of a unique corner of the region.