 We are sorry to say that Mac is not very well,
 but he is still e-mailing strong and recently sent the Beetle
 a collection of Mac reminiscences about some of his travels
 in 1992.  Here we have thoughts and experiences on
 India.
We are sorry to say that Mac is not very well,
 but he is still e-mailing strong and recently sent the Beetle
 a collection of Mac reminiscences about some of his travels
 in 1992.  Here we have thoughts and experiences on
 India.
 
 I am enjoying reading a book called Eating The Indian
 Air by John Morris, published by Atheneun 1969 New
 York.  Eating the Indian Air is an Indian expression
 meaning to take a walk.  Morris was in British Army in
 India and returned around 1969 to see changes.  He had
 been on Mt Everest expeditions of 1922 and 1936 so his visit
 to see Tensing at the Himalayan Mountaineering School,
 Darjeeling, India was interesting.
 
 Quote: “After breakfast I set off to visit the Himalayan
 Mountaineering Institute.  The world famous Tensing is
 the chief instructor at the Himalayan Institute.  I had
 purposely not telephoned to let him know of my visit because
 I wished to give him a surprise. In 1936 as a young and
 inexperienced Sherpa porter he had been my personal servant
 on Everest and although I had seen him in England after the
 successful climb in 1953. By local standards he has become a
 wealthy man but he is quite unspoilt and still lives in a
 simple but comfortable manner.  His appearance reminded
 me of the best of the Swiss guides with whom in more affluent
 days many of us used to climb.  And he was dressed for
 the part, thick woollen knickerbockers, hand knitted
 stockings, a peacock blue sweater, Homburg hat (favourite of
 all men of Tibetan origin and the heaviest of climbing boots
 I have ever seen.  I could not resist pulling his leg
 about his appearance but this he said with a laugh was the
 outfit in which American tourists expected to find him; they
 were disappointed if they found him more soberly dressed”.
 
 Me, Mac speaking now.  I visited this Himalayan School
 outside Darjeeling when I was maybe 69.  There was a
 slight hill to get to it and I came puffing in the door and
 asked if I could enrol in the school.  They laughed and
 said they did not take anyone over 18 years of age.  I
 was sorry Tensing did not get to meet me but he was either
 not in that day or away climbing a mountain. They had a gift
 shop and I brought several kinds of key rings with picture of
 Mr Everest and I think some saying.  They proved to be
 the gift the recipients enjoyed getting the most and they did
 not take up much room in my pack.
 
 I stayed in a budget place and I thought they said I could
 see Mr Kangchenjunga, the third largest mountain in the world
 from my window. They suggested I get up at 5am before the
 clouds came in or something. What they said was that I could
 see this Mt perhaps at this time from the hotel but from the
 other side of hotel. I did later see it.
 
 They brought hot water in something like a milk bucket at the
 time I told them I wanted to take a bath. The woodwork in
 hotel was beautiful although a budget place. They did not
 service meals but they told me how to get to a place friends
 owned and it was good. I really enjoyed Darjeeling and the
 little toy train to get up there. I also visited a Tibetan
 refugee place.
 
 From book The Whole World Stranger by Virginia Moore, The
 McMillan Company New York 1957 Page 144: “In the big bazaar
 of Calcutta (India) amid merchandise common and exotic we saw
 up for sale boxes of food from America marked “Do not sell,
 this is a gift” and heard that many recipients mistaking
 cheese for soap had washed their clothes with it” (Me. The
 night before we were to get on troop ship at Bremerhaven,
 Germany  (WWII) to return to the states a German POW
 doing kitchen duty mistook a bar of brown GI soap for butter
 and put it in the soup, (or so the story goes.)  At
 three in the morning troops were wandering around with
 dysentery trying to find a dispensary.  What a
 mess.  I decided I was going to get on that ship in the
 morning even if I had to crawl up the gang plank on my hands
 and knees lugging my duffel bag.  I did manage to stand
 up but had a movement on the way up the gang plank. 
 What an exit from war torn Europe.  (I think it was an
 honest mistake on the part of the German POW and don’t think
 it was sabotage.  Ha!) When we got to New York there was
 a harbour captain that came out to guide our ship on
 in.  I was at the side of ship watching this.  He
 came on board and shook my hand and said “Welcome home son.”
 (I had cleaned my self up by then.)  I get tears in my
 eyes just remembering him saying this. 
 
 Back to the book. “At Jjama Masjid (noble Moslem mosque) in
 Delhi, the guide showed them three world sights. 
 Mohammed’s sandal, his footprint, and from his beard a long
 red hair.” The sandals were two inches shorter than his
 footprint.  They had one guide that they joked needed a
 guide as he didn’t know what some well known sites were.
 
 Me: I found the guides on the government sponsored tours were
 very good and tours were reasonable.  I also found the
 government sponsored hotels were reasonable, clean and met my
 needs.  You find out about them from the National
 Tourist offices. While I did not use them all the time it was
 nice to know they were there.
 
 I am reading an article about Oil Rich Brunei a feast for
 eyes by Sandra Scott in today’s Washington Times Travel
 section. She writes: On the Royal Brunei airplane from
 Thailand to Bandar the capital of Brunei just before landing
 a flight attendant advised “The importation of drugs into
 Brunei is illegal and punishable by death.  We are sorry
 for any inconvenience this may caused.”.
 
 The sultan’s new 1,800 room palace is the largest in the
 world and is managed by Hyatt Corp.  For three days
 following Ramadan the palace is open to the public, a buffet
 is served and the sultan and his wives- he has two greet the
 people.”.
 
 I met in Rio De Janeiro one time the son of one of the
 Royalty of Saudi Arabia, or he said he was.  He said his
 father had seven wives and he was the son of the youngest
 one.  He may have been a fake as he was staying in same
 budget pension I was.  I know he did give Varig or
 whatever Brazils airline a bribe to get on flight out when it
 was difficult to get out and they took it. I was surprised at
 this little transaction.
 
 If you would like to contact Mac, he is happy to answer
 e-mails: macsan400@yahoo.com
 
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