From Shimla to Dharamsala

I've been in India for about five days now. The first couple days in Delhi were unexciting. We quickly headed north to Shimla, which involved a rather amusing toy train ride. Shimla looks like a Swiss village in the Alps with lots of Tudor buildings. It was also incredibly green and cold, two things I've never experienced in India (I've only been here in March, so it's right before the heat wave and monsoon). As nice as Shimla was, I want focus on the trip from Shimla to Dharamsala.
According to the guy who sold us our tickets, the trip would take about "nine hours," and the bus was "deluxe." Those words echoed in my ears twelve hours, two buses, and a taxi ride later. Riding on any bus in India, or much of the developing world, is always an experience waiting to happen. You can't get on the bus expecting things to go smoothly, and in a way that is a metaphor for life. It's how you live that matters, and the mindfulness that you cultivate. Finding that same mindfulness on the bus is a challenge, but one that is worth it.
Three hours into the ride, the bus overheated. We stopped along side the road, where I watched the driver try to refill the radiator with an oversized metal dixie cup. I smiled and was amazed at the persistence with which he went about refilling the radiator. Ultimately, he got the bus restarted, but he moved only as far as the nearest hose so he could keep refilling the radiator. It was a lesson in a little steps. We could have all piled back in the bus, but the bus was not ready for us.
Meanwhile, another bus to Dharmasala arrived, and we were told by the ticket man to get on the new bus. Given the large bags that three of us were carrying, I took the lead and ascended to the top of the bus and tied them down. This decision also meant that I was the last person to board the bus, so I was stuck sitting on the metal stairway. I shut out the craziness of the situation and focused on the journey at hand which was rapidly turning into an adventure. Passengers got off one by one, and ultimately Vanessa and I were able to sit next to each other. For the next five hours of so, we stopped in what seemed to be every small village along the way. We talked to strangers, visited smelly public toilets, and ate bananas purchased outside the bus stand. Throughout the whole trip, I found myself strangely enjoying the whole experience and glad to be exactly where I was. I found myself fully appreciating the moment at hand.
When we arrived at the Dharamsala bus station, we then shared a taxi with a French couple up to Mcgleod Ganj, which is where most travelers stay. They asked if I wanted to see the Dalai Lama. I replied it would be nice. I was thinking that it seems strange to "want" to see the Dalai Lama. Desire is the source of suffering. And even though it would be amazing to see the Dalai Lama, I didn't want to want too much. After twenty minutes or so, we arrived at the Green Hotel. Fortunately we got the last room available. Unfortunately, the room had still not been cleaned since the last guests had left. We ended up waiting for about another hour before we were finally able to go to our room, which is where I'm at now. Total travel time from leaving our hotel in Shimla to finally putting our bags down at the Green Hotel: about 14 hours.
Now, why am I writing this long epic when I keep thinking about climbing into bed. I realized something today? I always try to keep an open mind when traveling. Plans rarely work out. But for some reason, I seemed far more in the moment today. I stayed focus on the journey at hand and how I felt, acted, and behaved. In many ways, I felt like I was able to cultivate as much of the Buddha's right mindfulness as I had in a long time.