The End. For Now.

Lumbini, Nepal. The Bethlehem of the East. Birthplace of the Buddha. As in, Buddhism. As in, All Enlightened One. Lumbini is one of the last towns on the frontier between India and Nepal. It lies in the Terai, the flat plains of the southern section of the country. We had two days to make it back to India before our visa expired, and we were traveling overland. Since Lumbini was on the way and such a historical and important site, we made a small two-day detour. Above, the white stupa houses the fabled exact spot where Siddhartha Gautama, the Buddha-to be, entered the world. The brownstone ruins that encircle the stupa were built by various rulers of the plains, beginning with the famed Emperor Ashoka in 250 B.C.

Inside the stupa, hordes of school children rush to the stone marker that serves as a focal point for worship and offerings.

As the caption on the marker stone reads: "Marker Stone: The Exact Birthplace of Buddha."

Homemade prayer flags adorn the trees surrounding the stupa. Seen above are Burmese prayer flags.

Lumbini made us feel as if we were in a Disney World for Buddhist pilgrims. The birth site of the Buddha is but a small part of the large piece of land dedicated as "Lumbini Park" by the Nepali government. The vision of the park is to have a representative stupa or Buddhist temple from every nation in the world. Construction proceeds in fits and starts with most of the park unfinished to date. Here, Kara rides her bike along the main path in the park en route to the Korean monastery. She is wearing her full back pack, which made her ride awkwardly and uncomfortably and brought jeering laughter from novice monks and Indian tourists alike.

The Burmese stupa in Lumbini looked pretty much like Shwedagon, the most famous stupa in Yangon.

Kara's bike fell into a ditch while she was peeing behind some trees.

We spent the night at the Korean monastery in the park. The monastery runs a pilgrims guest house and a common kitchen. The monastery accommodates all, regardless of religion, sex, or race. The guesthouse is run on a suggested donation basis with very reasonable rates. Here Kara sleeps in the women's dorm in which she was the only resident that night.

The next morning, we went back to the birth site for a more reflective and meditative experience. The day before, we had been with a friend and had rushed through it...by our standards. Seen above is the holy tank which was once the pond in which Siddhartha's mother, Queen Mayadevi, cleansed herself before the delivery. It is also the water where the Buddha took his first bath.

Maximilian visits the marker again.

Kara poses at the entrance of the Korean monastery right before leaving to the border of India.

Nepal, we loved you. Thank you for being so amazing. We will return.

After another full day of travel by various vehicles, we arrived in Gorakpur India, and the saddest part of our Trip. While we were boarding a train to Rishekesh, Kara's camera bag was stolen. Inside the bag was Kara's camera, lenses, and her hard drive containing all of our photos from the entire trip. All of them.

Except the Blog photos! We really don't want to go into detail about how horrible that experience was. Suffice it to say that it will never stop hurting. However, after a couple days of searching around the station, attempting to bribe the police to help us, and posting hundreds of reward signs (in Hindi and English), and generally feeling like shit, we moved on. Because we had to. Our flight out of Delhi was in a few days, and our trip was ending. It put a painful and sickening twist on what should have been a happy and reflective time.

Luckily Max still had cheesy cam! And with it the memory card containing the last weeks of our trek. We used cheesy to take this picture above, when we decided officially to move on. We still have the trip, and no one can ever take away what we did and saw. We still have all our friends that we met abroad. We still have the Blog! and most importantly, we have each other.

Delhi. Our last stop. This is some big, governmental building. The architecture is a mix of Mughal and Imperial British influences.

Max looks like he is in a Bollywood film as he grooves his way through the India Gate, one of Delhi's most well known landmarks.

Here's Greenpeace trying to get signatures for a petition urging Prime Minister Manmohan Singh, to attend the Copenhagen Climate Summit. The greenpeace'ers are wearing masks of the Prime Minister's face.

Cross street near the monument.

Thanksgiving! Kara's friend and old colleague, Ann works in New Delhi and was throwing a Thanksgiving party. It was an interesting mix of folks, including Ann, the host, who is Swedish, the turkey baker, a Malaysian, and many Australian guests. The only Americans were vegetarians and did not eat the turkey. Sorry Ann, we couldn't give any good advice on turkey cooking or carving. It was a beautiful night and a nice step away from the usual chaos of the backpacker ghettos we normally frequent.

The Red Fort, Delhi. It was built in the 17th century by Shah Jahan, creator of the Taj Mahal, when he decided to found a new capital for the Mughal empire. Delhi was originally called Shahjahanabad. Max thinks that's really funny.

Walking through the gates of the Red Fort.

Inside the Red Fort. Many families seek refuge in this green space and enjoy touring the beautifully designed inner sanctum.

Red Salwar.

Symmetrical architecture. In the days of Shah Jahan, the trough down the center, seen above, was filled with running water to cool the room.

Bhagavad Gita marathon, 2009.

Sending postcards back home.

Drying the stamps on our postcards. We had to manually apply glue with our fingers to each one.

The last day: Qutub Minar. Qutub Minar is the world's tallest brick minaret, standing at 72.5 meters tall. It is also one of the oldest structures in Delhi.

Max looks at the carved sandstone Urdu inscription on the wall of one of the mausoleums surrounding the minaret.

Construction of the minaret began in 1193 and did not finish until 1386. The bricks used were from an even older Hindu temple that stood on the site.

Inside the mausoleum.

Max is awe-struck by the intricacy of the carvings and the skill of the ancient masons.

Even on the last day of our Trip, we were still seeing new and amazing things.

Like this fountain. Kara sits in front of a bizarre Jungle Book themed fountain in the India Gate park just hours before leaving for the airport.

Max eats his last dosa (well, this was one of two) at a fancy dosa shop on Connaught Place.

Last cow. This guy was parked in front of our hotel eating some offerings left for him, the poor street cow. He impeded our ability to maneur ourselves out of the hotel with our backpacks on. He will be missed. Here's to you, street cows.

Last picture of us in India. For now.

Dec 2, 2009.

We know we can't sum up the Trip in just one paragraph, or in any number of paragraphs, really. But we did want to say, it was one of the best decisions we ever made. The world is waiting for you. Go out and find it.

Love always,

Kara and Maximilian