The Indian visa, end of the story

Celebrations!

The envelope was waiting, patiently, in the mailbox, right next to the door. The priority mail could mean just one thing. The Indian visa!

So my passport came back, with the Indian visa in it, in the imparted time. Only problem : it will have cost me twice the price and two trips to Ottawa instead of one. Other problem, since I now have a journalist visa in my passport, I won't be able to stay vague about my job when I'll cross borders everywhere else. Lesson learned.

Other lesson : double check every information before sending the visa request.

Buying the flight

Before I change my mind, I bought the flight that will have me landing in New Delhi on January 5th.

For that, I noticed the price of the flight was 400 $ higher in just one month. 100 $ more than the week before. And that is for the cheapest one. Not necessarily the one I wanted.

I searched on flights comparators I didn't know about, like momondo.com and google.com/flights (no, I hadn't realized  Google had started comparing flights). I also tried on the usual websites like Expedia.ca or priceline.com.

Results were not convincing for the length of the flights, the number of stops or the arrival time. I was about to give up when I took a last chance. I've already written it, flight comparators are not all comparing the price for the same companies. That is when I found a flight on Emirates, a company well known for the quality of service. A company I didn't get the chance to fly on yet.

Before booking, I checked on Emirates website itself... where the same flight was cheaper. Economies : 120 $.

Other than the website problems which delayed my booking for 24 hours, I was done with the problems. At least I hope so. Direction India as soon as the new year starts : visa and flight in hand.

Nomination

A simple word to ask you to vote for me at the MIB Awards. My blog is nominated.

The Indian visa saga

The ones who are used to my blog already know I don't like to ask for visas. Always complicated, lots of forms to fill, always that feeling I gave the wrong answers.

Yes, I understand why. It's only that I don't have any other intention than visiting, than feeling the countries culture. If everybody was planning on doing the same, we wouldn't need a visa.

I stressed to get the Chinese visa. I almost had urticaria for the Brazilian visa. I had to work hard to get the Cuban visa.

And the adventures keep on coming for the Indian visa. Because I decided to leave for a month in January, I wanted to get a lead to be one step ahead. The flights are cheaper when bought several months ahead. But to book a flight, one must be sure they will be able to leave.

So I went for a tourist visa. I filled the form online, checked each information at least three times and drove to Ottawa to hand my application directly. If there is a problem, they will tell me.

At BLS office, the agency that will take care of the application, one can only pay cash or with debit. It will take seven to ten days, I'm told, before the visa is ready.

"If I wrote I'm a journalist, will there be any problem?" I ask.

Stop. Smarter people will say I should avoid talking about my job. I chose honesty... Just to see. End of the pause.

"No problem. Since you're asking for a tourist visa, there will be no problem" I'm told.

Loud buzzer telling me it's wrong!

Got a call, two weeks later, telling me my request was denied. Tourist or not, I need a journalist visa. The difference? The price, higher, and the length of stay, shorter.

The call center being unable to answer all my questions, I went back to Ottawa to hand a second request, which is still in treatment.

They gave me excuses, but no discount. I had to pay again, even if I had asked all the questions the first time and they gave me the wrong answers. I told them they should put the right information on their website. They said they would make the corrections. Nothing has changed to this day.

In the mean time, I hear a lot of bad stories from visa applicants... I prefer having faith. The decision should come before the end of the week.

But if India doesn't want me, I'll go somewhere else...

A word about Peru

I reached a decision! In just about a month, I'll hit the road again. Finally!

So I'll leave for Peru, where I plan, of course, to see the famous Machu Picchu. I should then stop in Lima, Arequipa and Cuzco before a pause near Lake Titicaca. I will then continue on to La Paz, Bolivia, where I'll board the plane home.

Small information point about Machu Picchu, which one can reach in many different ways. The most famous one for trekkers probably is the Inca Trail, known to be one of the five most beautiful treks in the world. The trails goes past some Inca ruins. It reaches an altitude of 4200 meters, which can bring altitude sickness.

There are other treks since there are many other ways to reach the summit. We decided to try our luck at the Inca Trail itself. For that, it is necessary to book a long time ahead, especially in high season. Only 500 people can walk the trail each day, 200 of them being tourists. The other 300 permits are solely for guides and porters.

To know if permits are available for a specific day, look on that website.

Whatever the length of the trek is, it is mandatory to get a permit only for the first day of the trek. The permits can't be exchanged, transferred or refunded. They are linked to the passport number. And you can get it through an agency.

In the many agencies, we chose Wayki Trek. This company offers to spend the night before the trek with our guide's family. We're thinking about it.

The complete list of all the companies offering the treks is available here.

With my new trekking shoes, I'm already training for the Inca Trail.

Modern Arts and Turkish Bath

Since I don't have a picture of the baths, here is one in
front of the Modern Arts Museum

Before leaving Istanbul, it seems like it is absolutely forbidden to miss the Modern Arts Museum.

Located on the shore of the Golden Horn, the museum offers a huge and interesting collection. Even though I'm not too attracted to modern arts, I got swayed. The masterpieces are really fascinating and impressive.

So as a traveler who doesn't really enjoy museums, I can say I recommend it.

The most interesting experience, though, was the Turkish bath, also called hamam. We chose the Çemberlitas Hamami, located in a building dating from 1584, from all of those suggested in the guidebooks.

At the desk, we needed to choose the type of treatment we wanted. Since our flights were leaving in the afternoon, we went for the fifteen minutes session. It would have been possible to add a massage for additional fees.

We were given a little box and a token, which we used to get in the baths. But first, we needed to go on the second floor to change. Changing being a big word. The task here was about taking all our clothes off and to cover ourselves with a towel. We then put sandals on and locked the door behind us.

In the hamam itself, we were shown we needed to lay down on a big circle rock. A very hot rock used to make us sweat. The heat was perfectly intense. But be careful : they don't like that you keep your sandals on when you lay down. Good to know.

A masseur, looking like the stereotype of the Turkish masseur, eventually appears. Mine literally grabbed me by the feet to get me where I needed to be. I must admit it's pretty funny when you see that happening to others.

He then put the massage glove on, the one that was in the box we got when we paid, and he starts scrubbing us. He throws hot water at us, still does a small massage and brings us in another room for a shampoo session.

The masseurs, all wearing a number, then wait next to the exit, hoping for some tip. "Remember my number", they tell us when we leave. The man handling the towels also hopes for some tip...

The experience is totally worth it, whatever preconceived ideas we might have about hamams. I can tell I was weak in the knees when I got on the metro to go to the airport. And I was sad to leave Turkey after that short week in that country.

Pictures of Istanbul

To take a break, here are a couple of pictures of Istanbul.

Detour by Taksim Square

Istanbul University

It smells like the end of a journey in Turkey. But still have another warm day to visit the Beyazit mosque before getting on Istanbul University's campus.

There, we couldn't get too close because of security controls. We gave up and went around the building. What was surprising was the outside stand to sell school supplies...

We visited another mosque before going back down to our hostel, where we would meet our new friend. Together, we walked towards Taksim Square, where most protest against prime minister Erdogan took place. We were told it would be safer to go during the day.

We crossed Galata bridge and walked up slowly along a walking street. We then stopped at a restaurant. The closer Taksim Square was, the bigger the crowd was, even if there was no violent activity.

Everywhere around Taksim Square were police officers. Water canons were aligned so they wouldn't block the traffic. Already, it felt like walking on eggs. Not the time to be extravagant. We needed to blend in the crowd.

We got closer to Gezi park, where there was already some construction work being done. Police officers were watching the entrance, so it was intimidating to take pictures.

We walked on the square itself and took the time to chat with the protesters, most of them being silent, standing without moving.

There were abandoned shoes to symbolize the people who got hurt or killed in the protests. Others were blindfolded, holding a balance to illustrate justice.

We were told about the death of a protester, how friends and family we staying on Taksim Square to pay tribute to him. We pretended to agree with our translator, who said protesters were just people searching for a fight. Was better not to contradict anybody, to listen and avoid stating an opinion.

We suspected some policemen were going around dressed as tourists or civilians. They were always close to us and made two young girls leave the square.

After a long conversation, we determined it was time to leave. Around Taksim Square, my North American head wasn't pleasing the water vendors, who were trying to get more money out of me. It took me four or five attempts to get a reasonable price.

We went back down through new streets to end up in front of protesters going up to the square. They were done working. They were walking together, shouting some slogans. Intimidating.

After hesitating about following them or not, we decided to go back to our hostel... where other travelers were already talking about going out at night.

There again, we hesitated. Pressure was strong. In a group, we negotiated for two cabs so we could go in Beyoglu. In the dark, the landscape had changed. People were running, their mouth and eyes were covered. Others were selling diving masks...

We got to the bar, where we needed to climb six, seven or eight levels to reach the last floor. The view was very nice. Big windows were covering three of the walls. Strangely, there were not a lot of people partying.

We had just started drinking our bear when we passed our heads through the window to look outside. The crowd was running in the streets. Slowly, my eyes started to burn. The tear gaz was going up and up and up. Even if we closed the windows, it was too late. The few people inside rushed to the stairs.

Eyes, throat, lungs were burning. With a little water in the face, between two floors, we were getting better and decided to leave immediately.

We jumped in a taxi, between a line of police officers on one sidewalk, and a line of protesters on the other sidewalk. On the way back, we crossed a taxi with its doors wide open. Men were hitting on the passengers. No time to understand what was happening. We kept on going.

The night before we left Turkey, we had quite a dose of emotions.

In French, here is the article I wrote  for La Tribune and La Nouvelle newspapers as I was still in Turkey. I'm telling about the events I lived there.