 In 1999, my sister Sal and I went on a pilgrimage of sorts: to Nepal and India via Saudia Arabia and Greece. Our sister Susan had just died of a brain tumor, and we wanted to do the sort of thing that Susan had hoped to do but never got around to: travel overland through Asia.
With Sal’s interminable backpacker pluck, we did it on our own and by the seat of our pants, no travel agents, no fancy tours. For six weeks we hopped buses, trains, rickshaws, and taxis, crisscrossing the Indian subcontinent. As much time was spent in transit, I took copious notes in my journal, and for a while sent email missives back to friends at home until finding places to email became too much of a hassle. I haven’t actively pursued too many stories related to this trip, but the sheer act of travel inspired me to weave bits of our experiences into my novels-in-progress. I have written parts of a travel narrative book about the journey, as well as some essays and a few articles. |
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