Travelling to India: honest personal story of the full spectrum India gifts you, from chaos to beauty

How I ended up travelling multiple times to a country I never even wanted to go to.

I’ve often been asked about India. Recently an old client’s daughter was planning a trip there and reached out for guidance. This inspired me to write about it.

Bizarrely (or not), within days of beginning to write this, I briefly met someone who asked me about my experience of travelling to India.

The conversation was very similar to the one that I used to have with myself: curious about going but put-off for fear of getting sick.

Sounds relatable?

It felt like another ‘sign’ to get this written and released into the wild.

So here we are.

This is for you if you’re thinking of going to India (or of not going – yes, you too).

The Truth

Honestly, this not a blog post I ever imagined I’d be writing; despite my love of travelling, writing, and (now) of India.

And even though younger me dreamed of getting a travel writing gig with the likes of the Lonely Planet: travel blogging was not on my radar (ha ha!).

This blog was supposed to be about ‘health’.

What I‘ve come to realise though, is that health is as broad as life itself.

If you’re not addressing your health multidimensionally (physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually), then are you healthy?

India is the motherland of ancient (and now popularised) health-related modalities, Yoga and Ayurveda.

It is also host to what are considered some of the world’s most prominent sacred sites:

• Varanasi: the ‘spiritual hub of India’ where pilgrims seek liberation bathing in the Ganges sacred river
• Rishikesh: a global hub of ashrams and spiritual retreats hailed as ‘Yoga Capital of the world’

Regardless of your reason for travel to India (and even if you get the poops), going there will likely positively impact at least one dimension of what I believe constitutes health.

The spiritual.

I’m not referring to temple visits or selfies at holy sites, despite these being part India’s rich culture.

Nor am I talking about attending ashrams or visiting gurus (of which I have done plenty).

What travelling to India will teach you, has the potential to expand your personal development and spiritual health. HUGELY.

By simply existing in India as a human, you will be presented with endless opportunity to accelerate along your spiritual path (in my opinion faster than you might in many other places which accommodate your ‘comfort’ more readily).

You are probably curious, and perhaps doubtful (as I was).

Let’s start here…

Before I travelled to India

If you’re on the fence about it, let’s get one thing clear: India used to be somewhere I thought I did not want to travel to. That is, until I did.

Curiosity (and privilege) is how I ended up travelling multiple times (6 visits so far, over 9+ months), to a country I never wanted to go to.

Whether or not you have been there, are thinking of going, or think you don’t want to go (like I used to), you wouldn’t be reading this if you weren’t a little bit curious?

How did the shift come about for me?

It started with a conversation (of course!).

During my 20’s one of my housemates in London was Eunjung, who was from South Korea.

Eunjung introduced me to homemade sushi, educated me on how to cook an egg in a bowl of soup, and was the person who opened my eyes to the subject of travelling to India.

The brief account she gave of her experience there went something like this:

“It was the best and worst time of my life.”

The summary being that you can love and hate it equally.

This stirred curiosity, and confusion.

Even with an adventurous spirit, at that point I had still never stepped foot outside of Europe, and India was not on my destination wish list.

Eunjung concluded that the terrible parts of travelling there had involved being unwell and feeling frustrated.

Which left me clear: I did not want to go.

This was despite the timing of our conversation coinciding with the increasing presence of Yoga in my life, I still felt no pull to go.

The opposite.

The main fear for me, confirmed by Eunjung’s story, was getting sick (the infamous ‘Delhi belly’ type of sickness).

In retrospect, I can confirm that on my second and third visits to India this did happen (on the third visit in pretty epic style!).

The interesting thing about India, is that when this type of sickness takes hold of you, and you start emptying your insides on the street (or as in my case, out of a restaurant window), nobody bats an eyelid.

I don’t think because it is a ‘norm’, but because bodily functions are simply that.

There is no interest in shaming someone if they get caught out.

Vomiting in a gutter is not even comment or glance worthy.

But if you needed help and asked for it, rest assured you would be ushered into a stranger’s home and cared for like a family member (or perhaps better than a family member).

Once the magic of India has you under her spell, any sickness you may encounter there, for the most (no matter how violent the diarrhoea or vomiting), becomes a consequence you simply embrace as part of the experience, and usually laugh about later (trust me, there are poop stories to laugh at).

This sounds weird I know.

Before I knew about this magic, on hearing Eunjung’s account of her time there, although it piqued my curiosity, India went from somewhere I had not thought much about going, to somewhere not to travel to.

I didn’t want to get sick or have the ‘worst time of my life.’

Little did I know!

After I had got sick there, I still went back.

What I once feared proved not to be sufficient to put me off for 4^th, 5^th, and 6^th trips to India (on which I was totally fine).

India teaches you to adjust your expectations of how life is ‘supposed’ to roll (including what ‘not spicy’ means when ordering food, by the way).

It rearranges your perspective.

It teaches you that what you thought would be unbearable, is bearable.

It shifts things in a way which refreshes you as much as at moments it stretches you, sometimes beyond what you thought were the limits of your patience.

This is a deep spiritual practice.

So, hear me out before you make your decision about whether to go or not.

What changed?

In 2009 I took my first trip outside Europe, to Thailand.

I travelled to mountains northeast of Chiang Mai solo on an overnight train from Bangkok, and then in the back of an open pickup, with a bunch of strangers (many of whom became friends).

The mission was to study Thai Yoga massage. This took place in a tribal village where I lived in a bamboo hut in the jungle.

Aside from the massage studies, high points included dogs fighting in my lap as I tried to sit still on a hillside pretending to meditate as part of the yet to be coined ‘5am club’.

This pretending was not in a nowadays ‘posing for instagram filming yourself’ kind of way as Derek (or Earl / Dearl), an actual travel blogger writes about.

This pretending was in a ‘the teacher has asked us to sit here to meditate for an hour every morning and I’m trying while I do my best to ignore the fighting dogs rolling in my lap, but I don’t really know what I’m doing’ kind of way.

Visiting the village’s nearby tea plantation was another highlight. I learnt the difference between black, green, and white tea (which all come from the same plant: Camelia sinensis).

Seeing how the roasting process affected the tea type as leaves were cooked in a pan over a little fire on the ground by a man smaller than me (most people I’d met smaller than me up to this point were young children), in a tiny hut on a hillside.

This was what travel is about for me. Meeting people, learning, seeing how things are done differently.

That trip to Thailand was life changing, and influential in shifting the trajectory of how I lived and the decisions I took about my path.

Amongst my classmates were several people who had travelled to India.

There was something in their eyes which glistened and spoke more profoundly than any of the words they uttered about it.

This unspoken language told me I must go (even if I might get sick).

The call was ignited (as it may be in you?). I listened and have no regrets (despite the diarrhoea!).

Going to India

Two years later, in January 2011, I travelled to India alone and met up with one of the strangers who had become a friend from the pickup truck in Thailand.

There we studied a Thai Yoga massage course with the same teacher from the previous one.

I squeezed a couple of weeks out of my busy work schedule for that trip. Almost everyone I met was there for months. I was happy to be there for any time at all.

From the moment I stepped off the plane and walked through the corridor of Trivandrum airport, there was an aroma which hit my nostrils: incense mixed with something unfamiliar, indescribable.

I immediately felt happy, excited, and peaceful (despite the noise!).

Before I had even stepped outside the airport a great sense of joy filled me.

First Impressions

Nothing quite prepares you for the glorious chaos.

It was 3am and on exiting the airport, a sea of smiling faces greeted me from across the barrier.

Hands belonging to bodies squashed together jostled as they grasped signs with names scrawled on them.

I spotted my name. The human holding it waved enthusiastically as I gestured to him with not more than eye contact, a nod, a smile: he gave me a thumbs up and an even bigger smile.

When travelling alone and arriving in a new place at night, I like to have a connection, a recommended place to stay, or a taxi pickup. This makes for a much softer landing (usually).

On the taxi journey north to Varkala, it struck me as to how lively everything was even at 3.30am.

Cows were roaming the streets, cars whizzing past each other overtaking three deep, horns beeping.

The beeping is something to get used to.

In India it is encouraged. You will see signs on the back of vehicles saying: “sound horn please.”

Each beep seemed to carry a message:  ‘I’m going to overtake you “beep”’, ‘I’m going to undertake you “beep”’, ‘I’m driving behind you “beep”’, ‘I’m driving beside you “beep”’, ‘I’m pulling out “beep”’, ‘I’m stopping “beep”.’

The beeping doesn’t seem aggressive, even if it might create a cacophony which sometimes feels like it’s rubbing on your auditory nerves.

Just as the triple overtaking with traffic whizzing into the onward facing direction does not really feel dangerous. At least not as it would in a place where you were accustomed to another style of driving (with less beeping perhaps).

I remember on that taxi journey as the triple overtaking began, deciding to trust that it would work out (which it did), relaxing into it instead of spending the entire journey on the edge of my seat.

Somehow the chaos does seem to work. This is one of the things which makes it beautiful.

It mostly seems to flow and invites you to do the same.

Something India will show you immediately, is how to relax into what is.

In doing this, you cultivate an extraordinary life skill you can take everywhere with you.

And it lets you know that if you didn’t, you would probably be tense and on high alert the whole time. Your choice.

India may also frustrate you enormously sometimes.

This is especially so when you bring your pre-conceived ideas about how any process, function, or errand ‘should’ go.

Top tip: leave all your preconceived ideas at home. If you still find a few with you. try to turn them in at ‘anything to declare’ in the airport.

This will benefit you immensely in how you navigate your time there.

Pre-conceived ideas will not serve you in India, only to frustrate you that is.

Head wobbling is a wonderful example of this.

In India, it is common for people to wobble their head during conversation.

The wobble usually oscillates between a nod and a shake of the head, simultaneously.

The head wobble may signify acknowledgement, agreement, indifference, maybe even disagreement, or any number of other things.

But if you ask for clarification on the meaning of a head wobble, things will usually become even less clear.

So, leave behind any ideas of what a nod or shake of the head may usually mean to you (yes, no, maybe). Leave it behind you.

Let India’s beautiful chaos embrace you and learn to go with the flow of it!

What India teaches you will stand you in good stead for not only your time there, but also for the rest of your life (if you let it).

How it went

I learnt these things very quickly on arriving at my supposed accommodation that first night in Varkala.

I had booked a room for two nights at the venue where the course would take place. This felt like a ‘safe’ option. I had explained that I would arrive in the early hours of the first night.

The plan after that was to stay with my classmate / pickup truck friend, once our course started.

The taxi deposited me at Shiva Garden.

It was still dark. The man at the reception shack in the garden told me that my room would be ready ‘later that day’ (even though it had been reserved for that night).

The look on my face probably indicated the panic that was beginning to set in, as I was expecting to collapse into bed after 20 hours of travelling.

This was before smart phones had reached my realm. There was no WhatsApp or google maps on hand. No internet café open.

Communication with the outside world in those early hours of the morning in a new country was off-limits.

My options were to walk out into the deserted dark unknown street like a tired turtle with my backpack, or to trust in the situation and ‘go with the flow’.

I was assured that although the room was not ready, there was somewhere for me to sleep.

Realising how limited my options were, I was accelerated to reaching the understanding that the small feeling of panic arising in me was based on preconceived ideas of how things ‘should be’.

These cultural and social conditionings were fuelling a desire to complain, be outraged that my room was not ready, or to storm out and find another option (which we have already established was not likely).

All of these things might have worked in the UK where I had come from, but they had no place here.

So I took my own advice, before I even knew what it was: to ‘go with the flow’. I felt it wash over me as I relaxed into what was and chose to trust that it would all be ok.

I was led up the garden path (literally).

Up a ladder on the wall of a building at the back of the garden. Onto a roof, where there was a climb up onto another part of the roof.

This roof had its own roof, but no walls.

I was shown to a mattress on the floor covered with a mosquito net hanging from the ceiling.

When I looked around there seemed to be many mattresses spaced out on the floor, some of which looked to be occupied.

I felt kind of excited about what was happening. Why had I booked a room when sleeping on a roof was an option!?

The ‘room’ had suddenly turned into a rooftop dormitory situation.

The thing is in India, that complaining or being outraged will not often get you very far.

Except for some head wobbles, madams or sirs, and lengthy explanations which will do very little to change the circumstances you are faced with. It will do more to raise your blood pressure and body temperature, which you probably want to avoid in the heat.

Once the excitement of sleeping on a mattress on a roof settled, it was immediately replaced by thoughts of security. Where will I lock my things if I am not even in a room with a door?

But that soon dissolved as I looked around the shadowy rooftop to see other people sleeping there, with their ‘things’ piled around their section of floor.

This was the new version of my reality. I would either get used to it or freak out.

I chose to get used to it.

I climbed into the mosquito net, dragged my belongings alongside the mattress and tucked them inside the net along with me.  Any valuables (passport, bank cards, money) would have been strapped to my body in one of those beige travel belts supposedly disguised under your clothes.

I lay down on that mattress and fell soundly asleep (within metres of a stranger I never met).

A few hours later I woke to the sound of creatures I had never heard in real life before.

Monkeys calling, birds cawing, and as I became conscious of where I was and opened my eyes letting the rays of beautiful daylight in, an excited glow filled me as I said to myself with a smile, “I’m in India”.

Did I get sick?

Second trip yes: after eating at a ‘fancy hotel’ buffet which was served for a conference I was attending (a few days of bloating, gas, cramps & diarrhoea).

Third trip was, as you already know, epic!

It has all the sickness stories.

Imagine sharing a room with 3 people, one of whom (an ex-lawyer from Brazil), had some hygiene OCD tendencies, and a fear of rats. She was the only one of the 4 of us who did not get sick (and who did see a rat).

Diarrhoea in a room with one bathroom shared between 4 (3 of whom had diarrhoea), can get interesting.

For the sick people the whole experience became comically comradery-ish. It was probably worse for the non-sick person who kept cleaning the bathroom (thank you!).

Personally, I overcame a lot of shame around pooping near people (immersion therapy style!).

Ironically, the sickness was healing.

As if with each trip to the toilet I was letting go of a little more of the shame which can accumulate due to the conditionings, stories, and hang-ups we gather.

Above all, I was there to study Yoga.

In advance of arriving, I vainly (or in vain) envisioned how much asana I would be doing. I imagined getting ‘so fit’ practising for hours every day.

The reality was very different to that. Ha-ha!

It looked more like missing or just laying down during many asana classes, and resting more than I had since burnout.

India was once again serving me with a healthy dose of ‘let go of expectations and go with the flow’.

Later, during the same trip was the restaurant window vomit, followed by gutter vomiting, and several days of bathroom vomiting.

This was in Rishikesh, where I also had had no intention of going. But when you make friends with classmates and decide to travel together, you end up in places you did not expect to be.

I made peace with that sickness: reframing it as a ‘free detox’.

Once it was over I came out all renewed, feeling light and wobbling on my feet like a reborn baby taking my first steps.

I went to meet some friends, mentally criticizing their choice of wanting to eat at a pizza restaurant.

This is where I met Mooji (do or don’t look him up). Until a few months beforehand I had not even heard of him (how I ended up at his Satsang some days before vomitgate, is another story).

It seemed Mooji liked pizza as much as my friends. He was there with a large group at another table.

He greeted us.

As he and I hugged I said “thank you” (for the hug, his Satsang, and his presence there and then). It was this odd moment where he repeated this back to me over and over. We hugged saying “thank you, thank you, thank you” to each other.

I’m not a follower of Mooji (or any other ‘guru’). Whatever your opinion or experience of Mooji, that hug in the pizza restaurant did feel deeply grounding, which was probably exactly right for me in that moment.

You see, India has weird ways of blessing you, with unusual surprises (if you are open to them and go to the pizza invitation!).

Should you go to India?

Firstly, an incredible old lady with a sparkle in her eye (who had probably been to India), was a customer at a shop I used to work in, and an avid follower of transcendental meditation (TM), she once said to me “never say should or could”.

I reflected on the meaning on this, and decided that it seemed like wise advice. With the amount of energy and radiance this elder still had, she probably knew what was up.

Make of it what you will, but I took it to mean everything is about a choice, and to never regret things.

Own what you do.

Secondly, only you know the answer to that question.

I like to go somewhere when something calls me AND navigating that decision feels like a strong ‘yes’.

Doubts are normal.

Your mind will try to convince you that it’s not a good idea to do something which will take you outside your comfort zone.

Ignore it.

Listen to the strong gut ‘yesses’.

They are usually a sign it’s time to do the thing.

Once you decide the way will reveal itself.

I’ve always gone to India for a specific reason (study, conferences, volunteering, retreats, etc), rather than just pure ‘travel for the sake of travel’.

That’s how I tend to move in the world, through connection and purpose. A lot of other beautiful things have usually happened along the way.

If you feel the call to go to India, maybe it’s time to act on it?

I will be there in October hosting a Yoga retreat.

Maybe that will be your gateway to beginning, or returning to your travels in India?

Thanks for reading, and maybe see you there!

If you do end up going, I hope you enjoy as much as I have!