A quick note

I fell, sometimes, for all of you that know me, that's funny. Okay, seriously though, I feel sometimes that I would love to write individual blog posts. Each of them addressed to the people avidly reading about my adventures. You know who you are. I am out here doing what I choose, but individual moments bring specific individuals to mind. Each and every one of you incorporated into my personality and therefore into my experiences and thoughts. If, only for a second, you thinking that you are not one of those people, you are!

I feel a willingness to alter certain posts, to incorporate my world views and spread what I have seen in order to influence people and change what they think is reality. I will refrain from this as much as possible, but at times, it seems unavoidable.

I left Puskar three days ago. I needed to leave. Sitting on a roof top, in the sun, drinking Kingfisher, smoking India-Kings and knocking back bhang-lassies is fun and all, but really, it was time to move on. I took a night train to Bikaner. A small but very warming desert town. The train was freezing, the desert does not hold heat well and although it is a blistering 40 degrees in the day it is barely 10 by night. I drank two tall kingfisher as I boarded the train, it left on time which was surprising, and followed those with a half bottle of rum. I thought it would help me sleep. I found myself at 2 in the morning sitting by a open train door smoking more India-Kings. I had opened the door myself, it was shut due to the desert wind and frigid night air. It was surely something to be sitting on an old rickety train with one leg hanging out headed through the desert, a bit drunk, smoke in hand. To cut that episode short, I made it to Bikaner. At 4:45 in the morning, freezing, tired, and hungover by that point, I made it.

That was three days ago. Last night I slept in the desert. I was in a tent about, well, lets say 6 hours of camel speed, into the desert. The city lights were no longer existent. The city sounds were no longer existent. There are no words to describe the feeling that filled my body, and soul. The trip consisted of two musicians, three camels, lunch, an afternoon tea, dinner, a night under the stars, breakfast and the trip back. I plan on another trek via camel in Jaisalmer, the next town I plan to visit.

A few words about camels: They fart, loudly. The eat, shit, moan, and groan while they walk. I shit alongside them, in the desert and burn the TP. Too much information? Well, again, it is Bowman-in-Motion. They are three times the height of cows with the strength of elephants. The desert, consisting of nothing but some bushes and sand has been the least polluted place I have visited. Even at that, there are plastic bottles and trash piled in certain places.

I am back in Bikaner about to go to a temple filled with hundreds of sacred rats. A very holy place, we'll see what it's like. I am heading to Jaisalmer tomorrow night via night train. I will be more prepared, and I do not mean more rum to keep me warm but more blankets, for it is in the desert also, even more so than Bikaner. God speed friends.