Reveries in Delhi

*WARNING: Nic has declared this entry 'too long', 'a bit preachy' and 'not boring as such...' She is most probably correct on all these points so read at your own risk (and when you're extremely bored and don't have anything else to do).

A few weeks ago, sweating in some jungly town not far from the steamy banks of the Mekong, we sat down to answer a profound question. What do you do when the world is your oyster and you have all the liberty and time you could require? To come up with an answer is more trying than you might imagine. In those steamy climes we put our heads together and bashed out a plan. Firstly, we needed to work, to have a purpose and a function. Secondly, we needed Europe. It is only when you spend so long away from the continent that you realise how much it too is part of our identity. I consider not just Britain but Europe to be my home.

So we decided that, after India, we would fly to Europe and volunteer on organic farms until finally arriving home for Christmas to rejoin society proper in January. We scanned the flights to Europe, trying to find the cheapest destination, just falling short of sticking a pin in a map. The best deal would take us to Rome. It seemed so apt, after all it was Roman gold that encouraged much of the Silk Road trade, imperial Roman soil over which we travelled for so many weeks and, of course, it is only natural that our road, like all the others, should lead to Rome. In a few weeks we'll be in Umbria picking olives in the Mediterranean sun.

It seems the right time to reflect on where we've been, what we've learnt, what we've seen. This has been a tough trip that's contained some seriously challenging times, but it has for both of us been the most educative and enlightening year of our lives. I might try and put into words exactly what it is that we've learnt. 

Lesson 1: We in the UK live in a liberal paradise
Iran taught us more than any other country we've visited. Seeing the people suffer the awful regime was deeply sobering and made us realise that even David Cameron is an easygoing, bleeding-heart liberal in comparison (this doesn't mean we shouldn't do everything in our power to dethrone the greasy little shit). As far as I'm concerned Britain is one of the most accepting and tolerant countries in the world. While still racist, homophobic and sexist it is light years ahead of almost everywhere else. Of this we should be truly proud (though still do everything in our power to destroy the racists, homophobes and sexists).

Lesson 2: Work is essential to happiness
You might imagine that one could be endlessly happy travelling the world, stopping to graze on fine food, chatting and playing cards into the tropical night. And you can for 6 or 7 months but there comes a time when you realise we all need a function, a role in society, a job. Otherwise you just float, you're empty and pointless. We've met people who've been travelling for two or three years and they are, without exception, bored, bitter and joyless. Society, community and function are essential.

Lesson 3: We know nothing of generosity
We've been shown such astonishing generosity on this trip it is hard to comprehend. Especially in Turkey, Iran and Central Asia there seemed nothing perfect strangers wouldn't do for us. Free meals, free hotels, free bus rides, free sightseeing tours, good company. It was a level of hospitality we have never experienced before and was quite humbling.

Lesson 4: We live in a world of miraculous things
By this I mean that we, in Western Europe enjoy daily luxury that is inconceivable to most of the planet. Among the most incredible are the following: Being able to draw safe, clean water from a tap, knowing that we are protected by legal rights and that we can say anything we like, living in a world where daily corruption is almost nonexistent (we do not need, for example, to pay teachers to guarantee a good result), knowing that our food is not only safe but always available, and, perhaps most miraculous of all, having free education and free healthcare (people cannot believe it when we tell them
this). There are many many more things that we daily take for granted, even gripe about.

Lesson 5: I no longer know what is East and West
Note: I've yet to find anyone else who finds this even remotely interesting, maybe you are the one!
We talk so often about life in 'the West' but what is it and where do draw the line? There are centuries old Muslim communities in mainland Europe and secular modernists in Central Asia, does modern Turkey now count as the West? Does Brazil or Australia? And how can we club Iran, China and India together as 'the East'? It is nonsensical, arbitrary and, as we continue to draw lines and wage wars over the idea of East and West, it is dangerous to continue with this gross oversimplification.
Note: I've yet to find anyone else who

Lesson 6: The world is indescribably beautiful (literally)
Though I've attempted to convey what we have seen in my blog, I will never be able to truly document the astonishing beauty that we have seen. The whirling of Konya's dervishes, the lumpen-throated beauty of Esfahan's mosques, the vast wastes of China's Desert of Death, the thousand-sights-a-metre onslaught of India's teeming streets simply cannot be put into words.

Lesson 7: We're quite possibly doomed
When you witness first-hand the industrial boom of Asia, the populations exploding like corn kernels, the hills stripped of trees, the smoke and and concrete dust spiralling into smoggy skies, you can't help but feel a little worried for the world. If the world as we know it is to end (and I'm increasingly sure it will in the not too distant future) it's as good a reason as any to live and appreciate the glories that we have before us and go out and see the beauty of an ever-shrinking world.

Lesson 8: Most people are good, everywhere
I'm not sure that takes much explaining. But it's true.

I could go on and on but cannot bore you with my mangled musings any further. In fact, I imagine most of you will have stopped reading by now and that I may be talking to an earless void.

We are now in Delhi and fly to Rome tomorrow. We're trying to soak up the last of our Asian journey, a journey that began as we crossed the Sea of Marmara way back in February. Outside, auto-rickshaws putter, cycle-rickshaws rattle and car horns howl to the scolding sky. This afternoon we will pick through the beggars and pushers to our favourite cafe, drink chai, watch the teeming world flow by and dream of distant yet familiar skies.

To Rome!