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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Then next day went to
Banteay Srei, 30km from Siem Reap, quite interesting,
especially with a musical accompaniment provided by a band of
land mine victims. Also took in some other temples as
well Ta Keo and Banteay Samre. A free afternoon after
that, so I spent it exploring Siem Reap, a typical backpacker
town, good fun and they have cheap CD shops. Lots of
souvenirs available, but only bought a few.
The ceremony over, it opened to the public and
suddenly it became what it was meant to be. The sun
shone, the temperature soared, the people filled the
memorial, people from all walks of life and different parts
of the world; dipping their feet and walking in the cool
water.
