My Bucket list was empty when I boarded the Emirates aircraft on my 59th birthday, heading to New Delhi to begin an eight month solo trip to the East.
Travelling like the locals on a train from Khajuraho to Jhansi in Madhya Pradesh.
Three years back my BFF Carolyn had planted a seed in a receptive mind when she suggested we take a year out of our lives and travel the world. For her it was only ever going to be a pipe dream, but for me, being divorced, childless, self employed and heading towards retirement, this dream captured my imagination. I am convinced it only became a reality because I talked myself into it. At every opportunity I would tell whoever wanted to listen that I was travelling in my 59th year. I did not have a plan, but I believed that the Universe would guide me. And the Universe responded. I was offered the opportunity to sell my business, wrap up my social commitments and then a good friend decided to finish up a tour through Rajasthan with a three day stay at an Ashram on the outskirts of New Delhi. When a space became available, after one of her travel companions decided “Ashram” was not quite her thing, I jumped at it.
I now had my first port of call, a departure date and three months to plan.
But before I get to that, I first need to share an extraordinary story: while Googling for information on India I came across a website (which I never found again) and requested advice on whether I would be permitted to fly into the country on a one-way ticket. It was not 10 minutes later that my cell phone rang (I must have given them my contact details) and an Indian voice announced that they (a call centre in New Delhi) had received my enquiry and how could they be of assistance ‘to make my trip memorable’. I was very wary to say the least, but I shared that I had been to Mumbai, Goa and Kerala on a previous trip, and now wanted to visit Rajasthan and Northern India. I received some very helpful advice regarding the online visa process and the promise that he would get someone to help with my travel arrangements.
Sure enough, a few days later I received an e-mail from Sarita Rani representing the (deep breath) HI Destination Management Pvt Ltd company in Delhi, with comprehensive information on all the places of interest I had discussed with Sanjeev from the call centre. It is unfortunate that one always suspects ulterior motives from foreign strangers, and despite my making it abundantly clear to Sarita that I wanted to remain a free agent and was not going to book anything in advance, she generously compiled an extensive two month itinerary for me and passed on invaluable travel information for solo female travellers. Thank you Sarita, I will forever be grateful for your help.
In the end I opted for a return flight to New Delhi, having been assured I could change the return leg at a nominal charge if I needed to. The visa process was a bit less straightforward, even with Sanjeev’s advice.
The Indian High Commission had at the time just outsourced its visa application centre to BLS International which in the case of Johannesburg was in Bruma. One common mistake made when filling in the form, is to enter “Gauteng” as the Indian Mission responsible for your application when you live in Johannesburg, but no! It is in fact Pretoria (there’s now a large pop-up alert on the BLS International website warning people of this). That little error will send you back home to re-complete your form. Also make sure your passport picture is the right size and in colour. And don’t forget supporting documentation such as your flight ticket, proof of residence and a bank statement. It goes without saying that my attempt at submitting my application and supporting documentation was unsuccessful and I had to turn around, and come back to do it another day.
The next burning question was what to do with my abode while I was on walk-abouts. The thought of packing up and putting all my belongings into storage was too daunting, and as luck would have it, one of my young colleagues offered to look after my house provided I covered the bond and lights and water, which I gratefully accepted. This meant that I could leave everything as is and only pack away my personal belongings.
Finally, with only a few weeks to departure I had to start thinking of what to bring for the long haul. My trusted wheelie bag was a given. It had accompanied me on my first trip to India, and many more destinations, and I knew its wheels were not going to let me down. I had a sturdy day-pack to hold all my toiletries, Lonely Planets, camera, chargers and a change of clothing. Also my greatest extravagance: a Granny Goose travel pillow, and, being sceptical about the hygienic conditions in India, I was also going to take a light-weight sleeping bag inner.
I had a Tumi travel handbag for my iPad, Kindle and the usual paraphanalia I tend to carry. My passport, credit cards and dollars were going to be hidden in a money bag around my waist.
Most countries I planned on travelling to would be hot and humid, so my clothes included light weight cottons that did not need ironing, two fleece tops, one jacket and my beloved buffs for cooler climes, a track suit, walking shoes and one pair of “better” shoes. That’s it! And everything packed neatly into the most useful different sized Deuter travel organizers which I discovered at Cape Union Mart. Finally, my book club buddies presented me with such an extensive medical kit that I probably could have treated most virulent conditions known to man.
I was ready!
Bags packed and ready to go!
Shortly before my departure I read a mostly forgettable account of a female solo around-the world traveller, but which had a title that intrigued me: “If your dream does not scare you, it is not big enough.”
My friend Zudi’s comment: “I hope you are terrified,” and I was!
Also read: Sybille’s bucket list – a passage through India (part 1)
