THE WETTEST PLACE ON EARTH. CHERAPUNJEE.

A trek down 2500+ steps to the bottom of a mountation. Looking down the steps still to go. Crossing a wire bridge and trying not to look down. Living root bridges made from the roots of fig trees. It takes thirty years to grow these bridges across the river. We found a lagoon and decided to take a swim. Standing in the bottom of a riverbed, I'd be six metres underwater in monsoon. Looking back at the riverbed we climbed over.

It's a bit of a hike to get to Cherapunjee, a town in the less travelled North Eastern states of India. Catch the a train to Guwahati, hop on a bus to Shilong, switch buses in Shilong and head for Sohra, and then jump into a taxi for the last stretch, to Cherapunjee. But you won't regret your decision to make the journey.

Cherapunjee is the wettest place on earth, and subsequently the locals have some trouble in the monsoon season - the rivers run so fierce and fast that the bridges wash away. Instead of building new bridges each year, the local use the roots from fig trees growing on the banks to build bridges across the river. To get to the living root bridges, you first have to trek down a mountain, all the way down 2500 steps, across three very wobbly wire bridges and into the riverbed, but when you get there. It's amazing. This is another one of those you-just-have-to-see-it places, and nothing I write here will every convey how incredible it was to see the enormous fig trees with their roots cleverly weaved into a bridge across a river. What's even more amazing is that when you stop for a drink at a local store, which is really just a guys house, the incredibly hospitable store owner tells you that if you walk for another ten minutes you'll see another bridge and a lagoon in the bottom of the now currently pleasant riverbed. My first question - is it safe to swim? It was, and we clambered over the boulders, stripped off (we didn't think to bring bathers, so opted for the cheeky underwear swim) and hoped in. And while I sitting in the sun on a huge boulder, in the bottom of a riverbed, at the bottom of a mountain, with my best friend, I realised that I loved travelling, and that even though it's tough, and it's challenging, and you get tired and cranky, it's incredible.

We dried off for a bit in the sun, clambered back over the boulders and up the mountain, and up two thousand and five hundred steps. It felt like the steps kept on going and going, and local people would walk past, smiling, while I was sweating, panting, and struggling to keep my legs going. Once we got to the top we flagged down a taxi, but when it stopped we didn't think we'd be able to get in. Nope, in India, they make you fit. My travel buddy and I hopped in the front seat, and four adults squeezed into the back seat. They were teachers, and they asked us all kinds of questions - How much were your flights to India? How much do cigarettes cost in Australia? Are you married?. Once we arrived in Sohra we asked around for a bus, but the last one for the day had already left, so we hung around the taxi stand (a bunch of locals standing around) and waited until we could fit in a share taxi back to Shilong. We did fit, eventually - all six of us, and a drive - into a small hatchback. And it only cost us R70 each for a two hour trip. India you be cray cray.

Rebecca.

THE TEA ESTATE: DARJEELING.

Waiting for sunrise at Tiger Hill. Sunrise. Kangchenjunga - the world's third highest peak. Looking back at Darjeeling. Buddhist prayer flags. We found this Buddhist grave on our trek back from Tiger Hill. Street cricket. Street art in Darjeeling. Happy Valley Tea Estate. Another snap of Darjeeling. A cup of tea. The chess game drew quite a crowd in the tea estate. We went to Darjeeling zoo. And chilled with this guy. And this monkey. And on the walk home we saw fireworks! Tibetan food is da bomb. Momos. Tea! The best place to eat.

We booked a train ticket to Darjeeling, and what we found out when we met a bunch of other travellers at the train station was that the train we booked tickets on was a 'notoriously shitty train'. In India, this loosely translates into, this train will be delayed by seven hours. What's crazy is that everyone in India knows that this particular train will be seven hours late because it's always seven hours late, and instead of changing the schedule to reflect the delay, they just operate on the assumption that anyone booking a ticket on it knows it'll be seven hours late and turns up at the station at the right time. Not seven hours early like we did. We threw our backpacks on the ground (they make great seats!) and got comfortable. Our group swelled from three to nine as other travellers arrived at the station and realised they were in for a wait. As cliche as it sounds, we all sat in a circle and played cards, tuned guitars, had staring competitions with Indian people (always an entertaining game!), drank chai and shared stories - from home and our travels. Not only was this my first train delay, but these were my first travel friends. 

Strangers one minute, friends the next. Names are forgotten as soon as they're mentioned, but what you remember is where your new friends are from. Canada, who's travelling solo around the world with his guitar and go-pro, France and Brazil, who are holding hands and smiling at each other, Australia, who taught me how to play briscola, and Adelaide, who actually only lives a street away from me. Four days after I met them, I said goodbye, and it was hard. We exchanged names and emails, hugged, and they got on a train going south, while I waited for a train going north. One of the greatest things about my trip was the people that I met and travelled with, sat in stairwells chatting with, and share stories and laughs with. I won't ever forget these people, and I look forward to meeting them again - at my home or theirs. 

We got to Siliguri - the closest train station to Darjeeling - late at night, and then had to hop into a jeep for a three hour drive up a windy mountain road. Cue motion sickness. Cue me becoming so incredibly frustrated at getting motion sickness. When we finally arrived in Darjeelinig it was midnight and nothing was open. The boys wandered around for a bit, knocking on doors until we managed to wake someone up who could offer nine weary travellers beds.

We got up the next morning and explored the town a bit, but unfortunately for us, the whole town was striking - nothing was open and nobody was around. Luckily for us there was one small cafe - Sonam's - open for breakfast. And by open, I mean you had to knock on the door and squeeze through the tiny kitchen to find yourself a seat in the cosy dining room as the cafe was technically closed. Bless Soman and her husband for opening to feed hungry travellers. I highly recommend that you check out Sonam's if you're ever in Darjeeling - it has the best toast you will eat in India, the best hasbrowns, and some pretty decent coffee. After breakfast we found some kids playing a game of street cricket and sat down to watch. The next morning we got up at four am and headed for Tiger Hill. From a lookout you can watch the sun rise on one side, and the Himalayan mountains come into view on the other - it was amazing and worth getting out of a warm bed at four in the morning for. We walked back along the top of the mountains, through forests and little villages, past rows and rows of Buddhist prayer flags, and stumbled upon a Buddhist graveyard. It was a beautiful walk in the morning sun, and by the time we got back to Darjeeling we were ready to hit Sonam's for breakfast. 

After a nap (me) and cards (the boys) we headed down to The Happy Valley Tea Estate. The factory itself was closed - the picking season runs from March to November - and there were no women picking tea, but we wandered around the estate, through the plantations, and sat down to take in the view, which was incredible. We were sitting there for a couple of minutes before a voice behind us said 'Do you want to have some tea?', to which we all yelled back yes! A kind lady invited ('Come up to my house for the best cup of tea you've ever tasted') us into her teeny tiny lounge room-cum-shop and set some water to boil to make us a cup of tea. After a lovely chat with her about all things tea and a cup of Darjeeling tea (tick that on off the bucket list!), we headed back out into the plantation and the boys started a game of chess that attracted the attention of a group of local kids, which was cute until one of the kids accidentally knocked the chess board over. On the walk back up to town we stopped and watched some fireworks - and Indian fireworks are insane! 

The next day we went to the zoo! After watching tigers sunbathe, a bear lazily watch the humans walk past, and some monkey's chase each other around we headed back into town for a lazy day and some thukpa - Tibetan noodle soup! We were on the move again in the morning, jumping into a jeep back to Siliguri and then onto a train bound for the North Eastern states.

Rebecca.

THE HOLY CITY. VARANASI.

Good evening Varanasi. Please remove your shoes. Walking through the streets of Old Varanasi. A temple in Old Varanasi. Looking along the Ghats a couple of stories up on the bank on the Ganga. Boats on the river. Mosque. Water buffalo at a ghat. Hitching a ride on a train to Allahabad. The train stopped, and everyone got off. Locky and Josh making friends with the locals while the train stopped. The Maha Kumbh Mela 2013 - the largest human gathering on a single day. On a boat on the river Ganga. The boys snapping on the bank on the river. Looking over at the ghats from the middle of the river. My feet in the river Ganga.

We took an overnight train to Varanasi - our first journey on the Indian Railway - and discovered that trains are the easiest and most comfortable way to get around in India. There are nine classes of ticket, from the most expensive first class AC (R4065 from Delhi to Mumbai) to AC three tier (R1790) to sleeper (R545). There is another cheaper option - general class tickets - that get you on the train if you can push your way onto the general coach. These are for the extremely brave or those who missed out on a confirmed ticket. We chose to book sleeper class tickets - they're cheap, you get to interact - using a few words and lots of sign language - with locals, and you get a bed. Chai wallahs can be heard making their way through the coach by their distinctive call, the samosas are R30, and you watch in amazement as local people walk past selling t-shirts, combs, keyrings, wooden crocodiles, hair ties, watches, anything you can imagine.

We stayed in Old Varanasi, a maze of winding narrow streets, temples and ghats, at Mishra Guest House. Some of the rooms don't have windows those that do have monkeys on the balcony, our toilet didn't flush, but the rooftop restaurant was served incredible food and had an amazing view, the staff were helpful and gave us a map, and it was budget friendly. You take the bad with the good in India, and you are over the moon when a room has blankets and a shower that works.

We spent our first afternoon navigating the streets of Old Varanasi - avoiding the cows, dogs and poo - and had a quick peek at the ghats before enjoying the sunset from the guesthouse rooftop. The next morning we were up early for a sunrise boat ride on the Ganga. A local fisherman rowed (you gotta give them credit because they do work really hard!) us down the Ganga to watch the sun rise and the people of Varanasi bathe, do laundry and pray in the early morning light. It was incredible. You really just have to do it. And it only cost R50. After the boat ride we took a walking tour of the old city with a local from the guest house. The tour was really cool - the guide took us to some of Old Varanasi temples and through a local's house up to a roof for a really cool panoramic view of the ghats. He then took  us to a silk factory, where we sat around uncomfortably while the store owner pulled shawls, scarfs and ties from the shelves and ignored us as we said that we didn't want to buy any silk today. It's awkward to the max, but as long as you stick to your guns and keep telling them that you're not going to buy anything (and don't!), it's alright. The tour was free, but we tipped him R50 each, because when someone tells you that something is free in India - it's not. After the walking tour, now that we were more familiar with the layout of the old city, we headed for the ghats for a look around. The ghat we wanted to see was the burning ghat, the primary cremation ghat in Varanasi, known locally as the Manikarnika Ghat. You know you're close to the ghat because you're surrounded by piles and piles of wood - oak, cedar, sandalwood. Then you notice the air is thick with smoke and the smells of burning wood, incense, and burning flesh. Once you're at the ghat you can see piles of wood smouldering along the bank on the Ganga, and if you look closely you can see a head or limb.   Photographs aren't allowed at the Manikarnika Ghat, but I don't need a photograph to remember what I saw that day. At first I was shocked to see human bodies burning, poked and prodded by a dom, but then I remembered that Hindu's believe through cremation they escape the reincarnation cycle, and that those whose remains are thrown into the Ganga after death are guaranteed a good afterlife. It was soothing watching the routine of the funeral ceremony, performed at the ghat by male relatives of the deceased - women are not present at the ghats for fear they will be overwhelmed with emotion and throw themselves on the pyre - before the pyre is lit and left to burn for six hours, and watching smoke rise, setting spirits free. I felt peaceful. 

Kumbh Mela is the largest religions festival in the world, and takes place every 12 years on the banks of the Sangam - where the Ganga, Yamuna, and Saraswati merge. We were only a three hour train ride away from Allahabad, where this years Kumbh Mela was held, so we hopped on a train to check it out. It was incredible. When you approach the area all that you can see for miles and miles is tents. We weren't there on one of the main bathing days, but there were still so many people around - Babas smoking their pipes covered in ash, swarmi's preaching to their captive audiences, and people bathing in the Sangam. I won't pretend that I know what was going on, and I'll be honest, I didn't learn anything about the Kumbh Mela by walking around the site, but it was incredible just to be there and to see it. We took a bus back to Varanasi, and had to split up on the bus to get seats. I sat next to a young guy and of course after staring at me for a couple of minutes he said hello. I said hello back and we had the usual conversation. What country are you from? I'm from Australia. Ricky Ponting, cricket, kangaroos. And then he said something to me, and all I understood was guru of love, and it was awkward. He got off at the next stop.

The next day, our last in Varanasi, we took a boat (a nice family let us hop in theirs for a good price) to the other side of the Ganga to have a look around. It's a beautiful sandy riverbed that's underwater in the monsoon. We wandered around and took some snaps looking back at the old city, and Josh, who we'd been traveling with for a couple of days, bathed in the river, but after reading in the morning newspaper that the bacteria levels in the Ganga were 120 times higher than the 'safe' level (the safe level is still dangerously dirty!) I wasn't brave enough for that. We headed back to the guesthouse to pick up our backpacks and made our way to the train station for our train to Darjeeling. It was seven hours delayed.

Rebecca.

INDIA: RISHIKESH

Welcome to Lakshman Jula, Rishikesh. A cow drinking from a tap on the side of the road. Hindu God Vishnu. The canyon swing platform to the right of the picture. Cool lights at The Little Buddha Cafe. Me sitting under a 'hat'. A candlelit dinner. A cute cup of chai. A cute diary cum journal. And writing in my journal. Over a cup of chai. My travel buddy writing in his journal. The guesthouse dog - he shared my toast in the morning. Cows, disregarding the rules. Bananas. At the back of a (very bumpy) local bus to Haridwar - even the locals were laughing at us.

We headed south from McLeod Ganj to the small town of Rishikesh, located in the foothills of the Himalayas. It's known amongst backpackers as the yoga capital of the world and is a notoriously chilled out town. We were there for the adventure sports.

To get to Rishikesh we first had to get to Derradun. We got there. At a ridiculous hour in the morning, and had to sit at a cold, deserted bus station for a couple of hours until the first bus to Rishikesh. The bus from Derradun to Rishikesh was meant to take ninety minutes. We were there in thirty. My travel buddy and I were deliriously tired and the whole thirty manic minutes was a struggle between staying awake, and staying on the seat. Even though you're tired, on a bus that's driving way too fast down a road that (you're hoping) is going to your destination, you can't help but laugh. I did, and it felt good. At that moment it was the funniest thing in the world and nothing else mattered.

 After finding a place to say - The Bandari Swiss Cottage on the Highbank - we headed into town for breakfast. The German Bakery had an amazing view of Lakshman Jula and the bridge that links both sides of the town - I'd recommend it if you're ever in Rishikesh. It was this morning that monkeys went from cute to evil. We'd grabbed a chocolate croissant (R35!) to go after breakfast and were heading across the bridge to check out of the other side of town when a monkey jumped down from the bridge and tried steal the croissant! I was walking in front so all I head was the rustling of a paper bag and my travel buddy scream. Luckily my travel buddy managed to keep hold of it, and quickly shoved it in his jacket. After this I never ate or drank in public without first having a quick look around me for monkeys or asking my travel buddy to keep his eye on any lurking nearby.

Rishikesh was also the place I did something that I never ever thought I would do, and am still in awe that I did it. A canyon swing. Jumpin Heights is a twenty minute bus ride from Rishikesh, and I remember feeling oddly calm on the bus ride there. Once, you're there, and you've gone through all of the safety procedures and signed your life away, you have to walk down the road to the jump platform. You can't see it at first, but as you round a corner a yellow platform almost 300 feet above the riverbed looms from the cliff. It's bright yellow, you can't miss it. At this point I wasn't even thinking. I was beyond thinking. I was babbling away nervously to my travel buddy and this continued until we got to the jump platform. I jumped first. I can't remember why but I think it had something to do with the fact that if my travel buddy jumped first, I wouldn't have anyone at the top to talk me into it. I like to think it was because I was brave enough to go first. I don't remember a word the jump master said to me as they harnessed me in. More nervous babble. Then you're taken to the end of the platform (and you can see though to the riverbed 283 feet below) and sat down in a chair overlooking the canyon. Another jump master attaches a rope to your harness while another one checks what they do. In the video (I didn't get it and am regretting that now!) I have a super serious look on my face and nod alot. They them unhook the rope from the platform and you feel a massive pull on the front of your harness. There's no backing out now and at this point I'm numb. I'm not even thinking. The jump master leads you to the edge of the platform where your toes hang over the edge. All you can see at this point is the riverbed below and it looks like it's a long way down. The jumpmaster asks me if I'm ready and tells me that he'll say one, two, three, swing, and on swing, I'll jump. I look over at Toby (one of the guys who brought Jumpin Heights to India) and ask if I'm going to be okay. He nods. One, two, three, SWING. And I'm falling. And falling. It's the hardest feeling to describe. It's a couple of seconds of falling with all of those g forces pushing on you. I couldn't even scream. I couldn't do anything. Then the rope catches you and pulls you into a swing. And I catch my breath and scream. You can hear it echoing through the canyon in the video. Suddenly my heart has stopped beating a million miles an hour and I'm thinking again. I'm swinging in the middle of a beautiful canyon in India and I'm having the time of my life. There are two guys waiting to unhook me at the bottom of the river and once I have two feet on the ground one of them pulls a badge from his pocket and hands it to me. I have something for you, he says. I've got guts!, is what the badge says, and I proudly pin it to my jacket. I can't stop smiling as I sit on a giant rock in the riverbed and watch my travel buddy get harnessed in and jump. He's lowered down and is unhooked and looks at me and says 'I didn't think you'd jump'. I didn't either. We then have to trek up the side of the mountain to the Jumpin Heights base, where we watch the videos of our stunts. I cry from laughter at myself, screaming, hair whipping around my face on the flying fox, and we laugh at how we look just before we jump off the platform.

I also did a bunch of other (really awesome) stuff in Rishikesh. Like: went white water rafting in the Ganges, flew down Asia's longest flying fox, ate at The Little Buddha Cafe every day, walked around an ashram, got trapped in our hotel room by monkeys, and hitched a ride on a local guys motorbike.

If you're ever in Rishikesh head to The Bandari Swiss Cottage and ask for Deepak. He's an awesome local who can help you with absolutely anything and will speed past you on his motorbike, skid to a stop and say 'hello sir' and let you hop on the back for a lift back to the hotel.

Rebecca.

INDIA: MCLEODGANJ.

This is what 270 kilometers worth of bus tickets looks like in India. The Snow Lion Hotel. Sunset in McLeodGanj. The Himalayan view from lunch. Hipster milkshakes. A himachal thali. Finally a coffee that is real coffee. Now that's a pancake. Cows in the road is totally normal in India. The spinning wheels at the Dalai Lama's residence. A moving documentary in the Tibetan museum. Republic Day falls on Australia Day so we celebrated. Mutton something, it was good. Chocolate biscuits. Another food snap. Another coffee. India vs. England ODI in Dharamasala. Slurpy. Another snap of the cricket. Another cow.

Mcleod Ganj wasn't on our list of places to visit in India, but we'd heard a couple of backpackers talk about it (and hop on a bus there) and after a bit of research we decided to see what people were talking about. And we saw! Although the journey there was less than pleasant - a broken seat on a bumpy crowded slow local bus through the windy hills - as soon as we arrived we were glad we'd done it. Mcleod Ganj was the first place that I experience touts. As I was getting off the bus (they don't even want until you've gotten off the bus sometimes!) a tout shoved a business card in front of my face and started his spiel. And I said no. And he ignore me. And I said no. And he kept going. I'd never experience this kind of in your face desperation and after a long day of travelling (buses give me motion sickness!) I couldn't deal with it. I cried in the middle of the road. Once I recovered myself we found a nice little (very!) place to stay and got ourselves settled. I should stop and thank my travel buddy for helping me recover. 

Since 1960, after his exile from Tibet, it has been the official residence of the Dalai Lama, and since then thousands of Tibetan refugees have crossed the Himalayas to settle in the hill station. I didn't know anything about the situation in Tibet, so after a morning exploring the temple complex and spinning the golden wheels, I spent an afternoon in the Tibet Museum learning about the history of the Tibetan people's fight for freedom. I watched an incredibly moving documentary about the Tibetan refugee's journey. It is incredible what so many people - it is estimated that up to 4,000 Tibetan refugees arrive in Mcleod Ganj each year - go through to escape rights abuses in Tibet. What is even more incredible is that Tibetan people are always smiling. I don't think I saw a frown on anyone (apart from myself that first night, and when I found out we'd have to take a local bus out of McLeod Ganj) the whole time I was there.

The food in McLeod Ganj was incredible too! The Himichal thali at Moonpeak Cafe was one of the best thalis I had in India, and the garlic butter nann and butter chicken and Mclo was delicious - and we didn't even eat it all. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. We also had a good coffee (it's rare in India!) and one of the best pancakes ever. 

We were lucky that on our last day in McLeod Ganj there was a cricket match - India vs. England. We really wanted to go to a cricket match because India people are so enthusiastic about it. It's not a game, it's a religion. Whenever we told someone we were from Australia, they would reply 'Ricky Pointing' with a big smile on their face. We managed to get tickets (for R1200) and our seats were right next to a camera. Every time the camera turned to the crowd the crowd went nuts. Everyone jumped up and down, jumped on their seats and waved their hands like mad! Unfortunately we didn't get to see the whole match as we had to leave to hop on a bus. But it was an amazing experience that I won't ever forget.

Rebecca.

INDIA: MANALI

Early mornings are okay when you're going on an adventure. Ready to board. Clouds above Thailand. A quick snap in the hotel in Delhi. Checking out Old Manali. Exploring the forest. Looking up at the roof. A snap of my outfit - rugged up. Sunrise in the hills. Sitting, pondering, enjoying. A snap from the balcony. A rainy grey day in Manali. Rugging up for minus twenty degrees. Directions. Icicles on the hotel balcony. Hopping into bed under four blankets. Exploring the hills in Manali. A star jump. Checking out an old temple. And chilling in the snow.

I'm sure that most of you know that I've recently returned from a three month adventure (I love calling it an adventure!) in India. I really want to share my experiences here and I thought that the best way to do that would be to write a post for each places we visited.

We flew into Delhi, but only stayed for long enough to get our bearings and to book a bus to Manali. Manali is a hill station in the Himachal Pradesh. In summer Old Manali is packed with backpackers enjoying warm summer nights, and in winter it's cold. We arrived towards the end of January and the day before we arrived it had snowed a crazy amount. Of course, coming from the hot Australian summer we wanted to chill out and explore the mountains in the snow. We took an overnight bus from Dehli - my first ever overnight bus - left at around six in the evening and got us to Manali early the next morning for R800. And when I say that it got us to Manali, I mean that the bus stopped around 20kms from Manali and we were told that due to the road condition after the recent snowfall, we'd have to go the rest of the distance by jeep. And of course this was going to cost us extra! When we got to the town we found it was almost a ghost town. There were very few people around, and lots of the shops and restaurants were closed - Old Manali was completely closed and cars were completely snowed in! We had a look around - I only slipped on the ice twice which is an achievement considering I was carrying my backpack - and decided on Hotel Hilltop which, as the name suggests, was on a hill and had an amazing view of the mountains. We rugged ourselves up and went to check out a temple in the mountains, watched some 'skiing', and slid our way down a hill into Old Manali. Literally. I slid down a hill. Squealing. Unfortunately while we were in Manali my travel buddy unluckily found himself, uh, a bit sick. I knew before I left on this trip that one of  us, or both of us, would get sick. But when it happens, if freaks you out. For the next few days I ate bananas and nothing else for fear of becoming sick myself. But after a few days rest - where I sat on the balcony, rugged up, with my kindle, eating bananas and chocolate biscuits - he was feeling better and we decided that we'd enjoyed Manali but wanted to keep moving. We got up really early the next morning and hopped on a local bus bound for McLeod Ganj.

Rebecca.

I FOUND AN OLD GEM.

jacket: dotti

t-shirt: sportsgirl

pants: river island

scarf: cotton on (old)

necklace: dallos and carlos

shoes: i love billy (old)

A good thing happened to me this week. While I was unpacking I found this scarf. I used to wear it all the time a couple of years ago, so it was nice to find it in the back of my wardrobe and work it into this outfit. And while I do have to admit that I've been wearing this outfit almost all week, its super comfortable and I think it'll be fine for another day. Thank-you all for the welcome back messages. It's good to be back, although it feels like no time has passed.

This week I'm busy arranging things for my next trip - house sitting in NYC for three months, six months in the UK and Europe, and then three months backpacking in South East Asia on the way back to Australia - booking flights, figuring out visas, and deciding what to take with me, and what to leave behind.

Rebecca.

THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME.

dress: asos

jacket: dotti

boots: sportsgirl

necklace: dallos and carlos

I had mentally put this outfit together while I was on my trip - I bought the boots during the heatwave in summer, and the dress was part of an ASOS order that arrived the day before I left for India, a cruel joke that I played on myself - and couldn't wait to pop it on when I hopped, squeaky clean, out of a long hot shower yesterday morning.

We arrived in Adelaide at seven yesterday morning, and as jet lagged and deliriously tired as I was, I was all smiles and happy to be home. India was incredible! I had an amazing time, and loved every (dirty, confusing, challenging, overwhelming) minute. I'll post some pictures (although you've seen alot of them on Instagram already) with some more information about what we did and where we went when I've kicked this jet lag's butt.

Rebecca.

BON VOYAGE.

I've scheduled this post for eight this morning, around the same time I'll be checking in at the airport, and hopping onto a flight bound for India, where I'll be spending the next three months backpacking around the country with my boyfriend. We've booked a couple of nights accommodation in Dehli, but after that, we have no plans. We know roughly where we want to go and what we want to see, but we're going to just go with the flow, and discover everything we can about India. I know that it's going to be tough at times, and I'm expecting to experience some culture shock for the first few days, but I want to fully embrace India - the food, the people, the places.

As we're backpacking, we're taking very little. I actually surprised myself with how little I packed. I've packed a couple of basic pieces - t-shirts, leggings, genie pants - that I can mix and match, but plan on checking out the local markets and picking up some things when I get there. What better way to embrace Indian culture, by dressing as they do?

As for my blog, I don't know. I'm not sure when I'll have access to a computer and then internet, but when I do I'll post a quick update - where we are, what we're doing, and what we've eaten, those kind of things, and save the picture for when I'm back and have the time to write something decent to go with them. I'll be snapping away on Instagram during the trip, so you can follow me there for quick updates and lots of food pictures.

Thank-you for all of the messages of bon voyage. Thank-you for putting up with my constant #holiday #adventure #india #excited hashtags, and snaps of my countdown timer. And thank-you for reading.

Peace.

Rebecca.

A LAZY SHIRT DRESS.

 

 shirt: witchery

necklace: callos and darlos

Another advantage of buying pieces a few sizes up - like this shirt from Witchery - is that they can double as a lazy shirt dress. I popped this on this morning, as the temperature is set to rise again today, and it's just so easy to wear. It's a tad sheer, but when I'm spending the day at home I think this is okay. I'll pop my asos mini underneath when I head up to my parents for dinner later tonight.

Anyway, I'll make this quick as I'm meant to be packing for my trip. One day, twenty three hours to go.

Rebecca.