Look My Shop?

Tis the end....

2007-05-16T14:42:00.000+05:30

Well, after a 4 hour bus, a9 hour train and 3 new friends later, we have arrived in the bustling metropolis of Delhi. We apologise for not posting anything in a while but we got pretty comfortable in Dharmasala by just hanging out, watching movies, walking in the mountains and just generally chilling. It is a real travellers enclave with lots of western items, from food to clothing, making us pretty comfortable after roughing it for the 2 weeks previous. In the end, it was pretty hard to leave but our flight was calling and the end of our journey was approaching fast.

We were going to stop on route to Delhi at Armristar - the capital of Punjab - to see the Golden Palace, but seeing that it is, on average, 47 Celsius, we gave it a skip for the cooler climes of Delhi - a chilled 40 degrees. On the plus side, we have been upgraded to a deluxe super duper air con room - bigger than our London apartment - but only after spending a night in a room which resembled a prison cell. It had one 2 ft square window about 6ft up the wall in the corner. It really reminded us of our start in India (the hotel with no windows!) but after some hard complaining and moaning, we are living like kings.

Delhi, on the other hand, is a complete jumble of buildings clumped together, almost held up by leaning on the the building next door. In this city of 10 million people there is no getting away from the crowd and at times it seems they are continually gravitating towards you (or your money!).

Buy this for 10 rupees, take this tour for a 1000 rupees, eat this, try that.... personal space... no!

But for all India's exotic spices, the pervasive smell of Delhi is of urine. Most train stations in India have the scent of urine, as it persistently pushes its way through the cracks in the windows of the train and invades the nostrils. But in Delhi, where the population is massive, the smell gets worse. Every drain and river in Delhi vociferously exudes the same sickly odour, a combination of all forms.. from urine to vomit, damp and rotting food. Add this to the sauna like conditions and you have a nasty assault on the senses.

But for all of this,it is fitting that the city should remind us of these things as our to return to the first world is imminent. Having spent time in the beautiful surroundings of the mountains, you can easily forget the real India - a country epitomised by its capital, Delhi.

Spectacular, infuriating and outrageous, Glorious and dilapidated, beautiful but brutal. We have enjoyed every moment of our trip - even those when any toilet in the world couldn't be close enough at that very moment - and we will never forget the places we have seen and the people we have met. We are sure we will return one day to see the tourist sites of Rajasthan, Varnassi and the Taj Mahal - and all of you are invited.

So, with 12 hours to go.. too hot and too tired to do anything, we are going to enjoy the air conditioning!

Thanks for reading and we will see you all soon...healthy and happy!

Love. peace and 50 rupees....

Ant + Sim

Mountain Goats

2007-05-04T15:14:00.000+05:30

WOW!!! ...infact...DOUBLE WOW!!!!

As we said, we have spent the last two weeks in the Himalaya's and somehow the words we write will never quite describe what it felt like to be standing close to the top of the world!

Having spent a few days in Shimla, we arranged a tour through a trekking agency and were paired with a couple from Austria and another from Belgium. Vincent and An from Belgium, had been working and travelling in India for 8 months. As an Architect and Anthropologist they were based at an NGO in Kerala. Woolfgang and Ruth from Austria, had been working on a one year celebration festival of Mozart's birthday in Vienna, and had taken 3 months off to travel in India. The agency arranged a driver and an experienced guide. So full of excitement off we went...

Its pretty difficult (and long) to explain every detail of the trip as it was action packed with lots of moving and plenty new experiences.... it almost needs a whole new blog on its own.... but we will try to summarise as much as possible!!

The People.
As previously mentioned, we were 6 with a guide and a driver. We spent the first morning figuring out little differences between the Belgians Flemish and Afrikaans, which was pretty strange. Eventually - after 10 days - we were pretty good at speaking Flemish!

The guide, Niggi, was a Himalayan born local and extremelyinformative, helpful and kind. He spent hours with us daily, explaining temples, monasteries, mountain ranges, local traditions, vegetation and answering any questions we had... he even went as far as to order for us in the restaurants as the languages of the region changed daily, making life a little complicated.

All in all, we got on pretty well, which is important in if you are going to spend 11 days together in a jeep.

The Roads.
Give me Chapmans Peak, blind folded on a turbo charged skateboard any day of the week!! Apparently we were travelling on National Highway 22, but it really seamed so - well we are certain it doesn't deserve the title of 'highway' by any stretch of the imagination. The road was predominately a mixture of broken asphalt, pebbles and stones. Always in a single lane, one side a mountain of rock, the other, an average of at least a 300 metre sheer drop down a cliff onto more rock!

Still hard to imagine? Add in a few building sites, stoppages for rock blasting above our heads (??), melting glaciers causing miniature rivers, buses and trucks coming the other direction and a gazillion u-bends, you've got a pretty good idea of what it was like. Each day held its own special surprise as some of the roads were only opened about a week earlier due to landslides and snow conditions. But the consistencies were there too... bumpy and dusty were a daily given. On some days we didn't pass another vehicle, really underlying how remote we really were.

However saying all of this, our driver Vicky was unbelievably patient, cautious and calm when dealing with all of this and calmness was always restored with a pitstop in the middle of nowhere for a toilet break and to take in the magnificent scenery.

The Himalayas.
Our journey took us from Shimla (2000m above sea level) went east thru the districts of Kinnuar and Sangla - both Alpine looking areas with high, snow capped mountains and lush, green filled valleys below.
Every day and every turn revealed an amazing view with some truly spectacular scenery. Its hard to explain as you can never really feel the wind on your face, the smell of fresh mountain air and truly, how small and insignificant you are compared to the mountains.

Every day would start with an early morning walk, whether it be a tour of a monastery or temple or just a simple hike up a river bed to take in the local people and their lives. Our guide was exceptional when describing local conditions and truly knew his way round these rather varied landscapes.

Days 2 and 3 were much of the same scenery but different villages. Each village was somehow completely different from each other but at no time did the populations for each area reach over 500.

Day 4 took us to the district of Lahul and Spiti, 15kms from the border with Nepal and in to an area called the Trans-Himalayas. its lack of vegetation with all the surrounding mountains being a combination of granite, sand and sedimentary rock topped with snow capped peaks - the land burnt sand What we thought was beautiful scenery in the last few days was abruptly disturbed by the drive to the village of Nako (3400m). The trans Himalayas is characterised byblonde. It was truly breathtaking, this barren, sand blasted landscape with prefect blue skies and white icing topped mountains rising out of steep valleys. Naturally the road got worse as we got higher and more remote, but the views from the window more than compensated for the conditions!

Days 5-8 were much the same. We visited further villages of Kalpa (3400m) and Kaza (3600m) with numerous other visits to important other places, morning treks and local homestays. It was really interesting to witness daily village life - where the seasons dictates the lifestyles they live. In some places we visited, they would be cut-off from any supply routes for 4 months of the year due to the weather. With nothing to do, all the men just drink and play cards all winter.. I briefly considered moving there!

As we got progressively more remote, we would see less and less cars on the road and the state of the guesthouses also reflected the remoteness of our situation. A few occasions we were left without any hot or even running water. Point: taking a bucket shower in melted glacier water can take your breathe away!

However, as mentioned previously, all of this was a small price to pay to see the views.

The Food.
At first exciting, by the end, ridiculous!

As we left civilisation further behind, so too did the options on the menu. The first few days were the general Indian fare of rice, chappatis (flatbread), dal (lentils) and a few other curry options - definitely edible and now again you were indulged by the freshness of the food.

By the time we reached the outlying places that are highly influenced by the Tibetan communities, the menu became very simple... in fact too simple. Your options were...

Momo's (veg filled steam dumplings)
Thupka (veg noodle soup)
Chow Mein
Omelettes
Chappatti's
Tea and
Water

That is it!! Nothing more, nothing less. Not even rice! Breakfast, lunch and dinner, the same fare. The restaurants didn't even have any menus as there was no point. Obviosuly, the hygiene and the 'service' dipped too. At one place, the only restaureant in the village - we waited for over 90 minutes for a combination of the items listed above - and we were the only customers! Even finding a pack of biscuits was sometimes a problem but they, in the end, became a substitute for a meal as variety was fast becoming a higher preference than nutrition. Needless to say, if we ever see any of these items again it will be too soon.

After 8 long days, it was sadly time to turn around as the roads ahead (over 4400m) were still closed. Another 3 days in the jeep really took its toll as we drove back round the circuit we had just covered, but was punctuated by some good stops for food in the local dhabas (street cafes - variety was now up t0 10 dishes including drinks!!!), small morning treks and the usual, stop for the toilet and have-a-look-at-the-scenery break from driving!

So, a bit tired, a bit groggy from being thrown around in the jeep and definitely a lot hungry, we arrived in Dharmasala two days ago. Time for rest and relaxation. We now we have the views of the mountains from the comfort of our balcony, a clean, new hotel with satellite tv. ... ah.. the best of both worlds!

News from the North

2007-05-03T19:54:00.000+05:30

I know we haven't updated our blog in a while but for good reason.

Having escaped the heat of Rishikesh, we headed straight for Shimla, a hill station and once the British summer HQ in the Indian state of Himichal Pradesh. We spent a few days there taking in the cooler days and spectacular views. From there we also arranged a 11 day trek to the Himalayas.

So needless to say, we spent a lot of time in really tiny villages surrounded by beautiful snow capped mountains and unbelievable scenery. Truly spectacular!!!

As you can imagine, hot, or even, running water was often nowhere to be found and hence, updating the blog was not even an option.

However, today we arrived in Dharmsala - the home of the Dalai Lama - and will be here for the next few days.. well at long as it takes to update the blog of our trek and just generally catch up with modern life.

Stay tuned...

Training Day

2007-04-20T19:02:00.000+05:30

We have written extensively about all our destinations and how long it took us to get there, but you really can't appreciate train travel in India until you experience it.... but we will try to explain in anycase.

It all starts with a reservation. Easy? NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, if you are not booking over the Internet (that brings it's own problems!) you have to scramble through the one open booking window for a reservation form. Why they don't leave them out still amazes me! I say this because there can be up to 60 people in loose form of a queue at any one time. Sim usually goes to get the form as ladies can usually walk straight up to the front.

Form obtained and your destination in mind, you now have to know the train number and station code to fill in the form. These can either be guessed, studied or obtained from helpful strangers or the person at the window but then you run the risk of all the irate people behind you while you ask your questions.

On the form you also have to supply your name, age and sex as well as your preferred travel class. There are up to 8 classes with some not available on certain trains, so a little bit of guesswork here too. As a rule, on overnight trains we choose Air-conditioned 3-tier (AC3).

AC3 provides seats by day, convertible to bunks at night. AC3 coaches are not divided into separate compartments, but are open-plan, with berths arranged in bays of six (two upper, two lower, two middle) on one side of the aisle, and in bays of two along the coach side above and below the windows on the other side of the aisle. It's lacks the privacy curtains and individual berth lights found in AC2 (one class up). An attendant distributes pillows, sheets and blankets in the evening.

On day trains, we usually choose sleeper class as its a little bit cheaper. This is the way most of the Indian population travels long-distance, and the majority of cars on a long-distance train will be sleeper class. Sleeper class consists of open plan berths with upper, middle and lower bunks arranged in bays of six on one side of the aisle, and along the coach wall in bays of two (upper and lower) on the other side of the aisle. Bedding is not provided and at night can be quite crowded (although in theory all berths must be reserved, so it can't get overcrowded), and it's fairly grubby and basic. On the other hand, you get a better view of the countryside then in AC coaches, where the windows are sealed, tinted, and sometimes dirty. In summer, there are fans on the ceiling and a breeze from the windows.

So anycase, class decided, you are back in the Q and handing in your form. Indian Railways have a unique system: After a train becomes fully booked, a set number of places in each class are sold as 'Reservation Against Cancellation' or 'RAC'. After all RAC places have been allocated, further prospective passengers are waitlisted. When passengers cancel, people on the RAC list are promoted to places on the train, and waitlisted passengers are promoted to RAC. What a system..! Otherwise, if you want to skip all of this you can always pay extra for something called Tatkal, which I think jumps ahead of all the people mentioned before? Another option is asking for Tourist Quota, something we do often but have never got so we are not sure if it exists!

For internet reservations, the same process is applied but no Qing, instead you get to try numerous times to book your ticket without the overloaded system booting you out.

So, ticket in hand, you are off to the station. Stations vary drastically with some being neat, clean with helpful staff or other being a smelly, overcrowded and noisy. All stations have hundreds off people, your normal tea stores, portable vending carts, your handful of stray dogs and numerous people sleeping and eating everywhere.

The train arrives and off you go to get your seat. If you do not have a reservation, it usually ends up in an almighty scramble to get on the train and secure a seat, so much so, most people try and get on before the train has even stopped!

Your train, coach and berth number will be printed on your ticket and the station master will print a reservation list for long-distance train and post them on the noticeboard at each station about two hours before departure. All passengers have an assigned seat or sleeping berth so there's no overcrowding. However, pristine western standards don't apply anywhere in India, but AC2, AC3 class fairly clean by Indian standards, with both western-style and squat toilets usually in a reasonably sanitary condition. On the other hand, Sleeper Class gets much grubbier than the AC classes and unreserved passengers can sometimes enter the coaches making it crowded. Toilets in sleeper class can leave a lot to be desired...

Having found your seat, there are wire hoops hanging down underneath the seats to which you can padlock your luggage. We do this as a norm. Safely on the train, comfortable in our seats we wait for departure.

Train journeys can be long, so you have to eat...
People in India have obviously grown accustomed to the long train journeys and usually come with a packed lunch, breakfast, dinner or snacks or all. Nothing here seems to be regarded as not-travel-friendly so sauces and curries get packed in small plastic bags and rice and chappaties in other containers. They are so jacked with the picnic plates with built-in compartments for the different parts of the meal. And then they tuck-in. The aroma of every carriage is indicative of all the foods this can happen as early as5am for breakfast. The plates and any other rubbish is simply tosssed out of the window with not a thought about the environment. India has a long way to go to start addressing its litter issue but in places like Ooty and Munnar there are huge signs that say 'no spitting, keep clean.' Hopefully this will gradually spread throughout the rest of India.

Available on every train is of course, chai (tea). The men come along singing: 'chai chai chai' or 'coffeeee cofffeeee cofffeeee.' These are more sugar than anything else and come in a tiny little cup. They also sell other things like fried veg patties, samoosas and more specific items (?) like colouring-in books and eucalyptus oil. Then there are the packaged meals which seem to be curry and bread of different sorts. We have had the veg rice on two separate occasions, served in a little tin foil contained and tasted okay with little consequences. Station food which is served at a pace at each stop, with men running through the carriage or shouting through the window to sell their item.

The train also serves its own food but we have been warned to stay away from it. It has recently been referred to on the news as inedible and dangerous with a large amount of it being prepared in the slums!

Having eaten, rested and half awake - you dont get much sleep with 70 other people burping, snoring and running up and down to the toilet, you arrive at your destination. You are now ready to find your hotel, but first, its back to the rickshaw/taxi drivers to get there..

Ps. I hope you are feeling tired after reading all of this... imagine actually living it!

Boggling Blog

2007-04-19T18:23:00.000+05:30

Apologies to all our readers.. due to forces outside of our control (i.e Google's software), a few of the posts are out of sequence. The correct order, and the order of our destinations should be....

From Munnar -> Ooty -> 24 hours of Movement -> Hampi -> Toilet Timeshare (goa) and then to Rishikesh.

All are updated below.

Thanks for understanding and sorry!

Snapshots II

2007-04-18T16:22:00.000+05:30

We still can't find a place to download pics from the big camera, but in the meantime here are some snapshots from the little one.

Goa's Anjuna market, Sim in hiking mode, another pic from the hike.

Street scenes from Hampi including the big cart that they pulled for the festival and the famous (and chilled!) Mango Tree restaurant

Train accomodation in 3 Tier sleeping, Ant having a shave and women preparing to swim in the Ganges.

Last, but by no means least, India described in one image...

Rishikesh

2007-04-18T16:19:00.000+05:30

Rishikesh is a small town in the northern state of Uttaranchal in India. Popularly adored for its scenic beauty dotted besides the holy Ganges river, Rishikesh is traditionally known as the spiritual and yoga capital of the globe. From the music legends like The Beatles to new age celebrities like Kate Winslet - everyone wants to come down to this city of Yogi's and Temples.

Rishikesh is also the Gateway to the Himalayas - and for us, Himalayas meant 'cool', so off we went.

This small town is the point where the holy Ganges exits the Himalayas. The banks are lined with ashrams, where saints and holy people live, most of them surviving on donations from others. Rishikesh is the lap of Hindu philosophy and learning and signs of religious rituals can be seen all over Rishikesh – in the numerous temples lining the banks of the Ganga and more so in the people that walk the streets everyday.

The small streets are littered with holy men, (sacred) cows, lots of cow sh1t and the odd mix of yoga'd up foreigners. It was very peaceful and different to most other places we have been in India with less hassling, touting and hard sells.. so really a pleasure for us.

Everyday we would walk around through the small lanes taking in the sights and sounds. At all times during the day people would be dunking themselves in the river, cleansing themselves in the holy water and offering flower sacrifices to their ancestors. In the evenings at about 6pm, a slight breeze would blow setting off the temple bells ringing as the sadhus, pilgrims and tourists prepared for the nightly 'ganga aarti' ceremony. You can feel the holy experience and how the beliefs make Rishikesh the holy city that it is. It was an experience and gave us an idea of what Varnassi must be like.

However, for us, it turned out that Rishikesh was hotter than we thought, with temperatures reaching about 34 degrees and the humidity about 80%. So after a few days in this holy city we left for the (higher) Himalayas . . .

Toilet Timeshare!

2007-04-18T16:14:00.000+05:30

Arriving at Goa we were exhausted but looking forward to some beach, fresh fish and just chilling. It was still hot and humid but near the sea was great. Goa is more like Europe than India. The beaches are filled with restaurants and locals selling different things. On the beach you can buy anything from a mango, have your ears cleaned (?), get a pedicure, massage, buy sunglasses or necklaces. Goa itself has little more to offer than the beach and seafood and is packed with tourists. It is also way more expensive than any other parts of India we have been to.

We spent the first two days in Benaulim, in the South of Goa, swimming and eating all the delicious fresh fish, before heading North to Baga Beach where we had booked a week of timesharing. It was not your usual concrete mass but a set in beautiful palm trees, with bamboo massage rooms and a hammock area with cushions under the shade of the trees. There were two swimming pools set in these great gardens with waiters bringing you drinks and snacks when you wanted them. It was exactly what we needed and were so up for some luxury.

Another big excitement was that we had our own little kitchen which meant we could eat at home some nights. Three months of restaurant eating gets a bit much when you can't even make coffee for yourself. So the first day we went to the local market to buy fresh vegetables and things to make our own salad at home. The veggies were all soaked in mineral water and salt before we began the salad making. Chilling on our balcony and loving styling it for a bit, I started to get really bad stomach cramps. I'll leave the details out but it was an entire night of both Ant and I in the toilet. The throwing up was so violent that it must have been food poisoning and we had even joked: "imagine if we get sick from our own food." There have been times when we have had no choice but to eat in some dodgy places but usually we are okay so not sure how we managed to make ourselves so sick.

Coming to India we had been given so much advice: don't drink tap water, brush teeth with bottled water only, ask for no ice in drinks, eat in places that are busy, don't eat anything raw, peel all fruit etc etc. Initially were stuck to this but I soon was desperate for salad and just always make sure its in a decent place. The problem isn't always the place, its the water. Anyway up until Goa we have had on and off upset stomachs but never felt sick and were doing well with the different food. Until Goa, both of us felt so sick for 4 days and resigned ourselves to antibiotics to kill all the bacteria in our stomachs.

We spent the timesharing week mostly in the room, in the toilet really, with occasional visits to the pool for a swim. We rarely ventured far from the hotel as either of us could need the toilet at any time.

The toilets in India are an entity in themselves. We were told by friends about the Indian style toilets and that we should get used to it. This is usually a whole in the ground which you squat over. There is always a bucket and jug for washing as they use this for cleaning rather than toilet paper. This is why many people in India will only shake hands with your right hand. They also eat with their right hands and use the left for toilet washing. All our guesthouses have had western toilets but most local restaurants will only offer Indian Style. The train toilets, also Indian and Western style, aren't so bad. Everything falls onto the tracks. Sometimes the Western ones are so manky and gross that its better to just squat. You get the hang of it. The key is to hold your breath as the smell in itself is often enough to send you out. There have been some toilets which I have literally felt so sick just going into, the floor filthy with who knows what everywhere, but when you have to go you have to go. Anti-bacteria gel has been a lifesaver!

We didn't set foot in our kitchen again and named it the "Bacteria Zone" and still do not know what we ate that was bad. It might have been something on a plate or cutting board, who knows. One of our few outings. we managed to go to the Goa market which was great and our first real outing from the hotel in a week.

We left our toilet timeshare at the end of 7 days and flew on a local airline called spicejet, to Delhi. The temperature was between 38 and 40 degrees so we went from the airport to Delhi train station where we caught an overnight train to Rishikesh. We decided to leave out Rajasthan due to the heat and will return one day to travel those parts of india. Its a very common route and easy to travel so we thought we would head for the mountains to get some cooler weather. Rested, healthy and having moved on from boiled rice, we were on our way . . .

ps. The lack of photos in this section is reflective of how little time we spent away from the hotel room! Oh well. at least we had air con and sattelite tv!

Ooty (Udhagamandalam)

2007-04-12T13:53:00.000+05:30

Ooty or Udhagamandalam is India's most famous hill station in the Nilgiri Hillls. Ooty is 2240m above sea level. We returned to Cochin for two days after Munnar before setting off for Ooty. It was Ant's birthday and we did not want to be travelling all day inthe heat on his birthday. He had a packet of woolies biltong sticks, some jelly tots and watched cricket in a great air-conditioned hotel room. I explained to the hotel manager that it was Ant's birthday so he gave us such a special deal, breakfast on the house and even gave Ant a card and small pressie. Great guy. Whenever Indians meet Ant they think he is Indian and when he tells them his name, the people in Kerala just smile and say:"Anthony is Keralan name."

We went to shul again on the Friday night which was a good thing as there were exactly 10 men including Ant. Ant wore his own pants this time . They asked us for shabbat supper but we needed to find somewhere to stay etc so couldn't join them.We left Cochin by train for Coimbatore where we spent the night in a dirty, old hotel. Its a bustling duty Indian town that is simply for passing through. Our train to Mettupayalam left Coimbatore at 5.15am so we just needed somewhere to shower and sleep for a few hours. The train to Mettupayalam is two hours and there we got on the miniature steam train to Ooty.

The train travels through the Niligiri Hills and could take 2 hours but in the steam train takes five hours. The train is bright blue and red and looks like a toy, blowing off steam every few minutes. Ooty is a big Indian honeymoon destination so the train was full of newly weds who seemed to bring their families with them. No food item is not travel-friendly for Indians so anytime of the day or night they will begin unpacking their hundreds of bags filled with packets of rice, smaller packets of sauce and gravies and will tuck in, filling the train with curry aromas.

We pushed onto the train with the rest and got great window seats on the left hand side of the train (as recommended by the lonely planet) as you got to see waterfalls etc. On our train to Mettupayalam we met Brando, another traveller. He said his mother named him after Marlon Brando. He is from America but moved toRussia and is a twenty two year old that has been travelling for 16 months. His budget is a 100 dollars a month! He told us weird and wonderful stories about how he pitches his tent on building sites in different towns in India, buries his backpack so that he can go exploring, visits national parks and gets removed by rangers for not paying entrance fees, avoids train charges and regularly gets kicked off.... a crazy and wild kid that we called Frodo from Lord of the Rings. He looked exactly like him. We also met a German woman who was going to Ooty to work with disabled children.

As the miniature train steamed upwards you can feel the air getting cooler which was great after the 36 degree humidity in Cochin. Arriving in Ooty we joined the Geramn woman in looking for a guesthouse. The auto-rickshaw drivers constantly try and convice you to take their suggestion of a guesthouse as they cut some cash out of the deal from the guesthouse owner. So after seeing five dirty places, we found one that we liked, Maruthi Cottages. It had a great tv and they put the Hindu Times under your door every morning. Ooty has lots of tourists so we ate delicious brown bread, pizzas and salads, which you ususally can't find anywhere else. Ooty is famous for homemade chocolate and every shop sells mounds of different kinds of homemade choc. Oils like Eucalyptus, Lemom Grass and so many others are made here so there are lots of little shops selling teas, masala, cinamon, chocolate, ginger, and oils for different things. After seeing the tea plantations in Munnar we decided we wanted to do more jungle and forest trekking in Ooty and would need a guide.

The LonelyPlanet recommends Mike Dawson, from Europe but that has lived in Ooty for most of his life. He told us on the phone that the jungle has been comparedto Africa and is amazing but has recently burnt down. He was taking a dutch couple that we met on a trek which he called a 'lunar landscape' due to the trees still burning from the fire. We decided against this. We asked him if there were routes we could do on our own. He told us of one but that at the moment there were charging bison and that he avoids this area by going off the track and into the trees. Charging bison! We decided that we'd definetly need a guide. We went to Reflections Guesthouse in searach for another guide and heard not such good things about their guide and his treks. An Israeli couple told us that the house guide, Anthony, was disinterested in the walk and was miserable as his daughter had recently got engaged to a muslim and his family was Christian so this meant that his daughter was going to convert. Several days later other travellers did his walk and said that he was still miserable.

After our visit to Refelections Guesthouse we decided to move there, great outdoor area and more chilled. We chatted to a few other travellers about trekking and looking for a guide and eventually got a small group. They had heard of a guy called Seni, referred to in The LP, who you had to meet at 8am outside a certain bakery. At 8am a tall man arrived and introduced himself as Seni. None us were sure he was Seni as very frequently in India, tips and names from the LP are used to create business. Seni then shows us his friends travel guide badge and we all laughed. He said he was going to change into better shoes and would return with his badge. The group consisted of Hugo from Oxford (UK), Sam from Liverpool but lived in Reading (UK), Rhea from California, Andreas from Arizona but born inSouth Africa, and Ant and I. Rhea and I were the only girls. She is a chiripractor that has just spent a month in an ashram doing volunteer work. Seni, our guide, returned as he had said and showed us his badge and he was the Seni Appen referred to in the book. He ialso returned wearing his hiking shoes - known in the western world as school shoes! We told him how hard it was to find him and that you never know who anyone is in India.

Seni, a tall, really dark, thinly built man. Ant told Seni that he looked more like an African than an Indian. He has this great gentle way and would ask us questions, like names of flowers on trees, and gather us up in a group to tell us one of his hundreds of interesting stories. The day began with a 9am local bus higher into the hills. He made sure the two girls had seats on the bus while the boys stood. The trek was amazing, through forest and jungle, past lakes and waterfalls and toda houses and villages. Todas are the tribes that inhabit the Nilgiri Hills. He showed us their round wooden dome-like homes and some tribal people making embroidery. We stopped at the lake and Seni shared out biscuits he had brought for us. We shared our Marie biscuits as well. Who would have thought the good old Marie would be international. They have been a saviour for us and lots of different stages of our travelling.

Anyway, like most Indians Seni wanted to know our professions, earnings etc. He then asked me what the difference was between lithium and tranquilisers was. I said that a doctor would bethe best person to ask and that I was not a doctor. I asked him why he wanted to know and he told me how he was locked up in a mental health institution for 10 months. He showed me the scars on his wrists from the handcuffs he had to wear everyday and how others bit and tortured him. He said that he still takes Lithium and took the pills out of his pocket to show me. He explained how 'he smokes, gets upset and has to go to hospital'. He'd had some traumatic experiences, and went on to tell us all about his heart attack as well.

His knowledge of the land, the animals and the people was amazing and each time he would gather us up for a story, I'd wait excitedly for what he had to say. They were stories of when he saw the tiger cubs eating and he ran to get away from the mother. He said that he had seen only 5 tigers in the last 6 years. He explined the land and how it changed over the seasons and how the tribes inhabited its different parts. Seni would stop to show us the scratch marks on trees of different animals and the faceces and who they belonged to, as well as the track marks. He warned us against taking porcupine stalks out the forest as it meant that you would fight with a friend. Seni shared lots of these kinds of stories with us. At one point he gave us all a big stick to walk with and to smack on the ground if any animal were to charge.

We stopped at a local village Indian restaurant for lunch and were all starving by this stage. We then made our way past the waterfalls and towards the bus stand to catch the bus back into ooty town again. Seni wanted to take us for chai in his local chai shop before we left him. We went into this dark tiny little chai shop and sat in the corner. He asked us all to write comments in his notebook which he shows other potential trekkers. It was 7pm so we ate little samoosa type things called 'pups' that were filled with potato and spices. We then said goodbye to Seni and walked back to our guesthouse, all glowing with the days experiences.

Ooty was cold at night so we fetched long sleeve tops and all went for supper together and spent ages talking about Seni and the day. Andreas and Rhea left the next day and Sam the day after that. We were happy chilling, reading our books but when the day came when we planned to leave, an Indian strike. This hit all of Tamil Nadu and pretty much everything in Ooty was closed, every shop, market , restaurant, station etc. We ate at our guesthouse but the owner later told us she wasn't supposed to provide us with food. The strike was for the government to provide better opportunities and education for the poorer classes. The following day we left Ooty refreshed, chilled out and heading towards Hampi . . .

Hampi

2007-04-12T13:32:00.000+05:30

Hampi was the capital of Vijayanagar - a 14th century empire. The ruins of the empire is spread over the area of 26 sq kms and at first site Hampi is well worth the visit.

The area is simply stunning and you are in awe of the millions of boulders, huge rocks and dry landscape that surrounds the area. However, within this arid landscape lies a little oasis with lush palm, banana and mango trees nestled near the river. Hampi is a great places to spend a few days wandering around and discovering the rich, vibrant history. Somehow, unlike other places we have visited, it still maintains its old world charm.

It is very hot! Dry dry heat. And the walk between some sites can be long but the surrounding area is quite breathtaking. The ruins of Hampi are located within a large area and most of the famous places have motorable roads leading upto them, the real pleasure in exploring Hampi comes from walking around. Virtually every rock in Hampi has a story to say and is a visual delight, especially due to its stark contrast from most other places. Rocks are all you see whichever direction you look at. It is very hot! Dry dry heat - we mentioned this earlier... but a reminder won't go amiss... .

So suitably refreshed from a mid morning sleep, we wake to explore all the ruins. We start off in the main bazaar, its a long road leading up to a huge temple, almost 50m high, with all the trimmings...beautiful stone, carvings, flowers and even monkeys. We spend the day hanging around and find out that evening, Hampi will host a festival - it marks the wedding of 2 important Hindu gods. The town is beginning to become alive and we are excited to experience our first Indian festival.

Time rolls by and late afternoon arrives... and so do about what seems like a million Indians, village people (not the ones in silly builder/cop/cowboy uniforms!) and religious folk. The festival entails moving a huge cart up and down the main street a few times. Its hauled by at least a 100 men and the crowd throw all sorts at it as it passes.. bananas, flowers, water etc.

We never saw the end as we only lasted 20 minutes. The carnival like atmosphere was quickly over-ridden by fear as we were pushed along in large waves by the crowds. Pushing and shoving we had to fight off attempts from a few party spoilers who liked the look of my camera (they didnt succeed!) and villagers who I assume had never seen a foreigner before, feeling up Sim. It wasn't a pleasant experience and we made a hasty retreat to watch from a (very safe) distance. Needless to say, no festivals equals less people. Considering India has a billion people, we are now keeping well clear of festivals!

The next day we decided to get out of town and go see the sights and generally to avoid the crowds from yesterday. We woke at 6am to avoid the sweltering heat (someone said this was meant to be a holiday!) and took to the outer limits of the town, exploring ruins as we went along. Some of them were absolutely mind boggling, amazing feats of architecture, design and sculpting. You can see by some of the pics (and these are a only a few examples) that the sites are truly breathtaking.

Founded by our new love for Hampi (all was lost the previous evening!) we landed up quite far out of town and decided to cross the river to a nearby village called Anegondi - also a UNESCO site. Crossing the river ..? um.. lets just say we crossed in a what Indians call a coracle... I would refer to it as a cattle skinned saucer! Imagine our surprise when some guy pitches up on a motor bike and comes along too. Anycase, we made it across, exploring some more sites and the like. It was now 11am (it felt like 3 days!) and at least 40 degrees so we headed for some deserved rest at a local restaurant under a huge mango tree by the river.... bliss! The afternoon was much the same - sightseeing and chilling!

The next day was pretty much the same but most of the emphasis was on chilling. It is very hot! Dry dry heat - we mentioned this (twice) earlier... but a hey!, we will remind you again (Feel our pain!!).

After two days of boulder gazing we were ready to leave the oven/Hampi, afterall we were heading to the beaches of Goa. Up at 5am (this is not funny - 3 days in a row before sunrise!) and off the train station for the one train a day to Goa leaving at 6am. However, lucky for us it was delayed by 4 hours of station boredom - we read the newspaper (3 times - in case we missed one or two of the classifieds), slept, ignored beggars, avoided rabied dogs, ate biscuits or chatted to the station master - after all he wasnt that busy.. one of his 2 trains for the day was late! 10 hours later we arrived in Goa. We could smell the sea again!

Constant Indian Themes...

2007-04-05T14:10:00.000+05:30

Having a little time on our hands, you can always think of recurring themes throughout India.

All men have moustaches.. they must think they are cool or all belong to the Tom Selleck Fan Club!

Everything is negotiable!

Everything that is edible has at least one kilogram of sugar in it.

You can run into animals at anytime. There are a gazzilion stray dogs! Cows rule the road.

Anywhere is a toilet. Anywhere is a trash can.

The music. Its a lot and its everywhere.

Sweating profusely, burping out loud and spitting in public is all fair game!

Time and distance is a raw guess.

Electricity is a privelege.

All taxi drivers and rickshaw drivers quote you triple the cost - even if they brought you to the same place yesterday for a third of the price!

24 Hours of movement

2007-04-05T13:24:00.000+05:30

After the easy going, stress free calm of Ooty, we decide to make our way north to a place called Hampi. It's the site and the once-magnificent capital of the Vijayanagar Empire. The ruins there are a UNESCO world heritage site and date back over 500 years. It seemed a place to check out!

So, after a lot of investigation it turns out Ooty is not that easy to get out of as it was getting in to. We booked a bus ticket on a private bus only for the bus to be delayed by a day by a state-wide strike. Eventually we caught our bus - a little 20 seater - at 8am in the morning.

The bus took 5 hours getting to Mysore (Ooty to Hampi: leg 1) down a winding mountain road covered with 36 hairpin bends (we know this as everyone has a signpost that counts them down.. quite silly if you ask me as you would want drivers to watch the road at these points and not the signs!). Anycase, we made it down safely and even took a shortcut thru one of the National Parks (to save time I presume) but only after the driver paid the guards a little bribe!

Eventually we arrived in Mysore and headed straight for the train station. We booked a ticket to Bangalore (Ooty to Hampi: leg 2) via train which was only 4 hours. We also tried to book the overnight train to Hampi from Bangalore from the same station but it was unfortunately full. We were now facing a stay over in Bangalore as the ticket office window closed in front of us.... it was 2pm on a Sunday of course.. "No more tickets.. come back tomorrow!"

So we've got a ticket to Bangalore and off we go. The train arrives at Mysore station and although it stops for over 20 minutes at the station, there is an almighty scrap, push and shove to get on to the train and secure your seat even before it comes to a halt! Bewildered and a little bit dazed by being pushed onto the train by sheer force of numbers, it turns out that our two reserved seats are taken by 7 people who are unwilling to move. Words exchanged, we find new ones.

Four hours later we arrive in Bangalore which is a large metropolis teaming with Indians ready to take your money! You can always guess how big a city is by either the amount of people sleeping in the train station and/or how long it takes you to exit the station. Bangalore is big....

Since the ticket office is closed (its Sunday!) we head off to the bus stand to investigate another route to out of Banglaore (Ooty to Hampi: leg 3). The bus stand turns out a stroke of luck as we book ourselves on sleeper bus (oxymoron!) to Hampi leaving at 10pm - its an 9 hr journey.

We have 2 hours to spare and we grab something to eat before finding your local air conditioned expensive hotel to use use as a waiting room and toilet facility before heading back to the bus station.

The sleeper bus is an experience not to be missed. It's a large Greyhound type bus but minus the aircon. It has a combination of seating (airline type seats which recline) and a top row of sleeper bunks which you can lie flat on. We had seats. A further hour and a half late leaving, we are on our way to Hampi.

We are not sure if we have mentioned this before about driving in India, but besides the roads being incredibly poor, the drivers use their hooter more often that they use the brakes. The hooter is used when

passing another car/bike/truck/rickshaw/pedestrian ("Im coming past. move over"),
going around corners ("Im coming around the corner, watch out!"),
when feeling another car is coming in the opposite direction ("I know neither of us have our lights on so Im going to honk so you can hear me!") or
generally just for fun or to say "hi" to your buddies as you drive past!

Our bus ride to say the least was uncomfortable, bumpy and noisy. The driver refused to stop hooting every two minutes. He also refused to slow down for speed bumps. Between the two of us we managed about half an hours sleep and Sim even managed to be bounced off her chair from one of the many bumps in the road!

Time passes (slowly!) and we arrived safely in Hampi at 7am. We have now been traveling for 23 hours and the two of us ready to bite anyone's head off due to lack of sleep and the constant feeling of being on a rocking for the last day.

Its 8am and 38 degrees ! A far cry from the cool, crisp mornings of Ooty - What were we thinking?? We find a hotel - it takes 3 attempts - and pass out.

Munnar - Tea anyone?

2007-03-27T18:43:00.000+05:30

The centre of some of the world's highest tea-growing estates!

After a bumpy bumpy 5 hour bus ride from Fort Kochin we arrived in Munnar. The higher you got, the worse the roads were, and with all the curves and bends in the road, it was a relief to finally get there. We both took a betablockers (slows your heartrate!) before the bus ride which made the bends and curvy mountain passes tolerable. The bus also stopped at least 20 times, on occasions for 'a chai stop' for ten minutes, or another 'chai stop' for five minutes.

Cochin had been baking hot, 35 degrees at night and high thirties during the day. As the bus went higher and higher, you could sense that the air was getting cooler, and finally there was the fresh, crisp mountain air of Munnar. There are dramatic mountains all around the little village, and acres and acres of these perfectly manicured tea estates - it basically looks like loads of giant broccoli florets placed so perfectly and neatly next to each other. Absolutely gorgeous!

We found a lovely guesthouse, at the recommendation of our rickshaw driver, which was new and clean. It was also the hub for all travellers and every night we would gather on the roof top to trade travel stories and tips. We met travellers from Mexico, Canada, Switzerland and of course, as in everywhere in India, Israelis. Our three months of travelling paled in comparison to so many people who we met who had been travelling for two or three years, just amazing to hear there experiences.

A Swiss couple were travelling with great little speakers and soon it was international tunes, the Mexican music, the Swiss and Italian, was great. We hung out drinking Kingfisher beer and hot chai. Another first was to have a hot shower with proper hot water before going to bed. It was our first hot water shower after travelling for over 5 weeks.

After chilling and roaming the little town centre on the first day, we were ready for some trekking. The next day we set off on a 6 km walk through the tea plantations. Well, in India they always seem to give you a measurement that's not quite accurate. If they say an hour it could mean anything from 20 minutes to two hours so the 6km walk seemed more like 8km. It was so beautiful and peaceful. We met the occasional tea picker, dressed in brightly coloured sarrees and carrying huge bags of picked tea leaves on their heads. We finished the walk at about lunch time, chilled and then headed for the sundowner walk to the view point. We took a turn at the wrong stage, due to a really bad typically drawn Indian map, and ended up walking further into the tea plantations, through herds of cattle. It was great but we soon headed back as we didn't want to be walking in the dark.

Our second day of trekking was such an amazing walk with phenomenal views. The quiet, fresh air, the green hills everywhere . . . . We caught a bus back from the signal point at the end of the walk into Munnar town and headed for a curry. It definitely helped to be really hungry as eating curry all the time can get a bit much. We supplemented this by eating the homemade chocolates available in Munnar. We were so excited to find these as the choc in the rest of India is really soapy tasting and we have hardly had any. Apparently they put something in the Indian choc to stop it from melting which makes it taste so bad. The homemade stuff was delicious!

The last day we headed up to top station (a typical Indian explain it all name!). It was an hours drive on some dodgy roads but the views were well worth it.

We loved Munnar and will definitely go back someday - a little piece of paradise set on top of a mountain . . .

A regular conversation

2007-03-27T18:02:00.000+05:30

India's culture is truly unique to anything we have experienced before. Every person you meet, rickshaw drivers excluded, is truly helpful, honest and friendly and only wants you to enjoy your experience in their country. They are also very inquisitive and will approach you at anytime for a chat, whether you feel like it or not, and will go something like this...

(You too at home can play along if you want.. just answer the questions!)

"Your good name?"
You answer, they tell you their name(s)

"Coming from?/Which country?"
South Africa brings a mix of response, from shock (why aren't we black?) and joy ("good cricket!.. Gibbs, Gibbs!").

Next we get even more personal.. "Wife?.. how many childrens?" and without taking a breathe to register your answer they will tell you their job title (in full) and ask you for your "Workings" i.e. your job.

Next question... "Earnings?" - A little bit personal for someone we've just met! We usually dodge this question.

"You like (enter city name here)?"

By now you are getting a feeling if you want to continue the conversation or not . Generally you can now gauge where the conversation is going.. on good days it can be a general chat, on others it can continue towards the likes of "you want a tour?/you need a guide?" or anything else that might help the passing of your cash from your hands to theirs.

Any transaction, query, question or just stopping in one place for more than 3 minutes , from shopkeepers to hotel owners to villagers, gets you the same line of questioning. Some days it's a delight, some days a chore, but you do definitely get to know your locals!

Cochin - the emerald queen

2007-03-19T19:15:00.000+05:30

A bus, a rickshaw, a ferry and another rickshaw got us to Cochin. Its a big city in Kerala but is made up of 4 different islands; namely expensive, exclusive, historical and modern. We opted to stay in historical Fort Cochin - landing place of the Dutch and centre for the spice trade many years back.

We spent a few days here walking the quiet old - and I mean old! - streets but its a welcome break from the hustle and bustle and noise of the major towns.. in comparison this place feels like a village.

Our first day we visited Jew street - an area occupied by the yids years back and centre for the spice trade. It has the oldest synagogue in the Commonwealth which we were hoping to see but as it was Friday afternoon it was closed for tourism. So we spent the afternoon looking at curio shops, the spice shops and the general area which caters for tourists, there was even a shop selling kitka covers and menorahs. Speaking to a shop owner we discovered that one of the congregation live nearby so we go off to see if we can get into the shul.

The man greets us at his home and looks about 100 years old. He explains that the service at the Shul is at 6.30pm and will only take place if there is a minyan (10 men). He also tells us only 6 Jewish men live in Cochin so the chances are slim, he goes on further to tell us we cant come to Shul in our shorts/vests.

We stroll around the lanes for a further hour or so and return to the Shul on time to see whats up. It turns out to be the usual 6 (the old man has returned with his buddies - all looking 100 years plus) plus 2 Israeli's and some other guy who has come over from another island nearby. The Shul caretaker looks at the 3 of us (me and the 2 Israeli's are all wearing shorts!) and orders us down one of the little lanes to some old ladies house. We enter as she is lighting the candles and has the table set for two people - she is also pushing 100 I reckon. She speaks minimal English but gingerly shows us around her house and gestures for us to go upstairs. As we reach the landing there are 3 pairs of trousers ready on a hanger for visitors - I assume she gets this thing a lot and I also assume they must have belonged to her dead husband. We take the pants and make the minyan so the service goes ahead with 10 men, 4 women in a beautiful little Shul. Besides the older yids there is your token Indian Jew there too. Everyone is barefoot as its about 35 degrees.

At the end of the service they opened up the arc for the visitors to see the Torahs and a decorative cover made of gold given to the Shul by one of the Raj's (kings) back in 1805. It truly is exquisite. Following that, the main guy (the one under 100 but not the Indian) asked me to say the Kiddish which was kind of cool. We stayed a while chatting to all and then left to return the trousers to the old lady who was I presumed now sleeping (as she wasn't there anymore.. front door left open). We both felt pretty good as we at least had helped the community have a service for that week and even saved ourselves 2 rupees (the entrance fee for visitors!). We walked back with an Isreali women who turned out to be staying at the same guest house as us so we landed up having dinner with her.

The next few days we explored the rest of fort Cochin and its little streets. As its an island one of the attractions are these huge Chinese fishing nets along the shores. Running alongside them are numerous outdoor cafe's that will cook your fish which you have recently purchased from the fisherman... we had a whole grilled snapper for about $2!

Snapshots

2007-03-19T12:12:00.000+05:30

Ok, I found a place to download some pics but the blog upload is just as painful, so I've only added a few.

A stonemason outside his store in Mammalupuram, some stone carvings around there too and a kid playing cricket on the beach.

The beach and cliff of Varkala, our friend Andreas and his family, and a picture that sums up the craziness of India and the traffic.

Some kids on the beach, the Gateway to India in Mumbai, Beach rd Mumbai (notice the state of the buildings!)

Mosquito Masala

2007-03-19T12:04:00.000+05:30

Like everything in India, all aspects of food and eating are an experience within themselves. Not really, well, not yet, but I often say to Ant that we have no idea sometimes what we are eating, and its often difficult to recognise items in a curry. The best thing to do is just eat, enjoy and most of the time our stomachs let us know what's been dodgy. After each bout of dodgy stomach events I try and pinpoint what it might have been, but its totally impossible. The pineapple juice? the curry? a tomato washed in dirty water? who knows, you just go with the flow . . .

Anycase, below and around is a selection of foods, street and otherwise, that are available. I must admit we have not tried many of them as as you can see most of them, even guessing the ingredients can be difficult. On the whole we have stuck to a variety of western foods for breakfast (toast, cornflakes etc), a small snack for lunch (fruit, nuts etc) and dinners have been a combo of fish curries, lentil curry, potato curry, something or another curry and even a i-dont-recognize-this-and-not-sure-if-we-should-be-eating-it-curry.
Some of the pics are found in your regular roadside drinks shop/cart ..mostly baked and fried sweet cakes and biscuits type things (not great!). Other things available are nuts roasted on the side of the road and chai (tea) stores. Not shown in the pics are the obvious lack of hygiene when preparing foods and of course the gazillion flys that are buzzing around almost everywhere (at night that are joined by mosquitos - a very irritating combination!).

The most common food down this part of India is called a Thali. Its traditional dish served on a banana leaf and eaten with the fingers (its the last pic). You get loads of little dishes of various spices mixed with veg, an unending supply of rice, a pompodum or two and a bread of some sort (roti, naan or chowpatty - they are all the same to me!).

Most of the spices include some form of coconut, chilly, nuts, yogurt, tamarind, lemon, lentils, cabbage, mustard seed, coriander - well at least these are the ones we have recognized so far. We aren't the biggest fans and every third or so day we are curried-out and need salvation with some western style dinning which is not always readily available!

House Boat Paradise

2007-03-15T14:08:00.000+05:30

We arrive in Kollam from Varkala, the beating hot sun at its strongest, and head straight to the jetty to book our house boat. Had been given lots of advice and recommendations. The booking took about 3 hours and we headed to find some food. Probably took so long because I started chatting to the guy and got involved in a long conversation, and next thing he is telling us about his family and career plans. They love to chat here and I love to chat but it never ends. Lots of places have little western options of food and neither of us felt like curry but had no choice. We shared two things which we hardly ate. Our hotel room was on the side of the main road and throughout the night there were thousands of cars just buzzing past the window. Some sounded more like aeroplanes.

Kollam Main road
At 10.30am the next morning we got onto our houseboat. The House Boats are made from bamboo and coconut fibres and are absolutely beautiful. Ours was a single room, with its own bathroom, and we had a boat captain, engineer and chef. The team were great and we spent ages chatting to them.

Chilling in our houseboat and taking in the views of the locals

As we arrive on the boat there is a big bowl of fruit and great comfy chairs and mattress on the deck for us to lie on as the boat cruises. It went towards Munroe Island, near Kollam, then we got onto a canoe with a guy called Ramenem, who took us on a village tour. This lasted about 3 hours. It was grest to see the ladies doing coir making, which is rope made from coconut fibres, and cocnut oil factory. The canals and waterways are curvy and narrow and was great to go past all the little villages and locals busy with their days work, washing clothes, building canoes, cutting coconuts. There were loads of prawn farms which are covered with ropes above the water to stop the birds from chwing the prawns. Each time we passed little children, they would shout "pen please, one pen please." We were prepared from the children in other villages, and if they were close enough, we stopped in the canoe to give them pens.

We got back onto our House Boat at about 3pm and ate pineapple and chilled on the boat deck as it cruised the canals. We passed hundreds of fishermen and other canoes crossing the canals with people, coconuts, bicycles, a car and even a goat. All the boats have to stop moving at 6pm so they put down the anchor and we stopped for the night. All we could see on Lake Ashtamudi were palm trees. So so gorgeous. The name of the lake comes from the word meaning eight and the word meaning hair, as there are eight small connections that make up the lake. The chef made us such awesome food, similar to what he had made us for lunch. We told him it had been our best Indian meal as for once, you could recognise the veggies from the sauce. Most cases involve more sauce than anything else. The food was great. We chilled on the deck and then went to sleep in our little room. It was so quiet and beautiful. Right: Coir making

We woke up in the morning to the smell of curry. I said to Ant that we should tell him that we loved his food but weren't up for a curry for breakfast. They love a curry for breakfast here. The chef took some convincing and eventually gave us some pineapple and coffee but was in great disbelief that we were turning down his hot breakfast.

Our boat and the food.

We arrived back in Kollam and got straight onto a ferry that brought us to Appelley. The cruise was 8 hours long and seemed to just go on and on. It was great to see more of the backwaters and village people.

Allepey feels like about forty degrees, probably only about thirty-six, but yowzers, its so hot. We have a great room in a guesthouse so spending time just chilling there. Your clothes are literally sopping wet within minutes of leaving the cool room, dripping dripping dripping!

Pics below are: Cocunuts drying in the sun, The early morning view from our window on the boat, Sim with our crew, Chinese fishing nets used on the lake and us chilling.

Look my shop?

2007-03-11T11:19:00.000+05:30

Ant:
"Look my shop?"
"You looking now?"
"Shopping today?"
"Just looking see?"

Not my words, but those of every shopkeeper/stall holder in India. It seems everytime you leave your hotel room you have to run the gauntlet of over enthusiastic, over committed and after a while downright irritating shopkeepers to get to what ever destination you want to get to.

Ok, I agree we are visiting tourist hotspots and they make their living from selling to the tourists but it wouldn't be so bad if maybe they differentiated their goods a little. How many times can you look at the same cotton pants, tops, bags, throws, bracelets and little Indian trinket boxes? Time after time, shop after shop, the same product is everywhere. Maybe they are trying a strategy of blurring your vision with continuous repetition of goods, hoping you will get so dizzy you will part with your cash?

SOS my dad would say - Same old shit!

Its a terrible habit, lying to these people but its like trying to shake off a bad cold, not easy! An answer of "Not today" rumbles a response of "Ok, tomorrow looking!" .. .. urgh!

No peace in walking the streets here.

Eventually, (you will crumble - their system works! - you look at their shop) when you do find something you would consider buying the real fun begins.

The answer to your question of "how much?" is always divided by a minimum of 3 as a base for bargaining. The volley begins ..
"1000 rupees"
"too much, 300?"
"no, 1000"
"too much, thanks".... (start walking away)...
"okay, 800"
"no thanks" ... (walking away again!)
"whats your final price?" - um, are'nt you the shopkeeper and meant to be setting the prices?

By this time your patience is wearing thin and polite as we are, we are getting ruder and more irritated by this stupid game by the minute. What ever happened to fixed pricing? Its hot, its tiring so why add to the stress with needless bargaining? Im sure a couple of tourists pay the prices but surely this isn't worth it. They have fought so hard just to get you to look, why piss us off anymore but haggling with prices?

So you find the item you like and decide to buy as the verbal volley of pricing gets closer to an agreement. You now find yourself arguing about 50 rupees - about 50 pence, 1 dollar! Its ridiculous! You are buying a tablecloth or custom made trousers/top and you are arguing viciously about 50 rupees! Im telling you its not normal - but at least its fun!

Having made your purchase, you exit the store/shack/couple of sticks with items hanging on them only for the next storekeeper/stallholder/stickmaster to scathe you with a "you look my shop too? you buy! make one person happy, me sad, not good! buy here!". Almost a command!

Patience exhausted. One raised hand and a mumbled "no thanks" is all they get - on some occasions this is nearly replaced by a "F**k Off!!!" - as you stroll away!

However, the disease is not only contained to shopkeepers but also applies to cabs and rickshaws (I still have to get into one where the meter does work!), tours and just about anything in the service industry. It seems the only fixed prices are those products that have the price printed on the packaging, but even that is often abused. India is like a giant competition to see who can squeeze the most out of the tourist.

So tomorrow morning after breakfast - in fact once we've finished this post in a hot and sweaty Internet shop and all we want to do is go for a swim, we will run the boulevard of bargaining once again. (and again!)

Ps - If anyone wants any of the detailed items above let us know, we love "looking my shop!"

Sim:

Yesterday I was chatting to the girls that haggle you incessantly to buy things and tried to give them some sales tips. I explained to them that I, like many othercustomers, love looking at all the little things that they have to sell, but that they make it impossible to 'just look' and so chase many potential customers away. Sungeetha and Suko definetly seemed to take this on board, but the others carried on, 'Look my shop'.

Sitting at breakfast drinking fresh pineapple juice, I said to Ant that its amazing how sweet the fresh juice is in India. He said that he had read that they put sugar in the fruit juice. I have read the Lonely Planet inside out and saw nothing about the sweetened juice. But slowly I am starting to realise that many items that you buy in India, aren't what they say they are. The thing is, it is a kind and gentle culture, but if there is moeny to be made and it invloves a sham, then that's what its going to be. The owner of the Juice Shack said that only his restauramt sells real brown bread and theothers simply yse artfifical dyes to change the colour of their bread. Who knows whats in what? The tailors convince you that everyhwhere sells cheap cotton that will go shiny after a while, but there cotton fabric is the genuine thing. Meanwhile their cotton fabric isn't even cotton. Thats India, you got to love it, and just take it as it comes, and if the fish masala is really a street dog masala, it tastes okay. An english guy gave us a tip to always eat where locals eat and not where tourists eat. He said that owners will do what they can to scam tourists but not the locals who they want toreturn for more busniess.

Yoga in Varkala: My first class here was with a Yugoslavian man called Zola who runs classes on the beach every morning and evening. Great idea to do sun salutation as the sun sets with someone playing the flute, but the sand went everywhere and made the whole thing a bit ineffective. The best class was on a roof top of an old guest house. Not really a class as such, more an Ayurvedic Doctor doing yoga with lots of people, like me, doing it with him. He gives brief instructions and is a great man. The class starts at 7.30 am and by 8am the sun is beating down and you just have to move around the roof top in search of a patch of shade to prevent a yoga fry up.

Varkala - The beach!

2007-03-10T13:28:00.000+05:30

We arrive in Varkala by train, a short trip from Trivandrum.

Varkala town is a little village but a 5 min rickshaw bring us to the cliffs and our hotel (and a thousand others). The cliffs are adjacent to the Arabian sea. There are numerous ayervedic spas, restaurants and hotels lining the cliff looking down on to the beach. Its really paradise with loads of palm trees everywhere and a serene lack of traffic.

Our hotel pool in Varkala

The Papanasham beach at Varkala is quiet, clean and secluded and grew into prominence and caught the attention of tourists only recently. A long sandy beach, towering red cliffs and soothing mineral springs put Varkala in the not-to-miss category.

Papanasam is a perfect place to watch the sunset or relax gazing at the horizon. The area is covered with coconut palms and small restaurants that are more expensive than most places we have been but it caters for the tourists as they far outweigh the Indians in this part of town.Our hotel is the nicest we have had yet and the bonus is that it has a pool. Handy in 35 degree heat! Varkala beach and cliff

Our days are filled with nothing, waking up to palm trees swaying in the wind, late breakfasts and lying by the pool. We go swimming in the sea in the late afternoons and watch bond films everynight (currently we are going thru the Roger Moore years - my favourites!)

One of the days we ventures into town, i haven't shaved since Ive been here so I'm off to find a barber The other reason is that Indians are now speaking to me in Hindi so I want to look like a foreigner again. i speak to the guys in charge of the shop and agree a price - 50 pence. I sit down and all of a sudden I'm been lathered up by a kid not not old enough to shave himself . I'm shitting myself... 3 weeks of solid growth, sharp blade and a kid who hasn't shave having a go at my face! Anycase, after asking me first if i want to keep my mozzi (i considered the option). he gives me a proper working over with a face message and all but before he finished he sprays my hair wet and I'm thinking what has this got to do with a shave?.. he grabs a comb and gives me the Indian style - Swiss style comb over side parting hairdo!!! I cant contain my laughter and i nearly double over in a fit. No wonder all Indian men look the same!

We are really chilled out and spend a little time with our new friend Andreas and his family as we keep bumping in to them.. this place is small and most of the tourists have left so its really easy and peaceful. The only irritation is a familiar pattern - and the title of our blog, and my next post - Look my shop!

The juice shack.. many hours spent here!

Hotels

2007-03-10T13:17:00.000+05:30

Having seen a few of these already I have started to see a pattern.

You arrive, you ask how much (variable answers depending on season, who's answering o the availability/non-availability of a rate card) and then are shown the room. We always insist on a window (hooray!). Everyplace has a has had a western style toilet. A blessing.

So checking in involves a form (doesn't everything in India?) - where are you from, where are yo going to next, passport number, visa number (I know both of these off by heart now). We go to the room and the inspection starts.

Usually you can see how your mosquito situation is going to be like by checking out the various wall splatterings. We scope out a way to hang our net (not easy in some places) and check to see if we have running (clear) water. We hit the streets.

Trivandrum, Kerala

2007-03-10T12:55:00.000+05:30

After a long wait at the train station and a rather uneventful 12 hour train ride we arrive in Trivandrum, Kerala in the far Southern tip of India. The train provided an ample nights accommodation if a little cold as the air con blasted us all night.

Train accomodation. Not bad. Window included.

We check into our hotel - it looks snazzy from the outside, glass panels, mirrors etc - tacky on the inside. Our sheets have holes in them, one has a bloodstain on it and we find hair in our breakfast.
But on the plus side we have a window.

Trivandrum is a pass thru town on route to the beach resorts in Kerala. We decide to stay a night as we cant handle the mission of travelling again just yet. Trivandrum sprawls across a strip of land between the hills and the sea. Its spine is Mahatma Gandhi Road running for several kilometres from north to south, it contains, or adjoins, almost everything of interest, but beyond that, orientation is not so easy. Some streets are unnamed, few buildings are numbered, pavements are uneven or absent, and zebra crossings and most red lights are ignored by the omnipresent traffic. It's safer to hail an auto-rickshaw than to walk. I walk past a traffic cop doing his job on a busy corner, stoppping traffic, letting other traffic go. SO excited to see me he ignores his job for 20 minutes as we have a conversation about the world cup. After a while, I leave him and he is off back to directing traffic - how the cars must have missed him!

Kerala Coffee house cum amusement park!

The highlight is going to the local market where everyone wants their photo taken. They are almost lining up as we walk around the various fresh fruits, spices and produce. We should be sending vanilla pods home as they are dirt cheap here and I could make a fortune in the UK.

The other highlight is a round building/tower which has been converted into a Indian coffee shop. As you walk in you are on a ramp with the tables on your left as you walk up and up and up. Its rather odd and quirky but will make do for a sit down even if the person on the other side of the table is a foot higher than you due to the elevation. We also meet a guy called Andres there who was on his own and he joins us. It turns out that he is taking a night away from his family who are in Varkala. We are off there next so we agree to meet up.

Market stalls.. every vegetable you can think of and enough bananas from every indian

Back to the bus

2007-03-10T12:41:00.000+05:30

We schlep our bags to the bus stand in Pondy. We need a 2 hour bus to get to the train station to get our overnighter to Trivandrum.

After asking everyone and their cousin which bus goes to our destination we start getting annoyed at the huge variations in answers that we are getting. Walking up and down across a slab of asphalt in 35 degree heat is not that funny. Eventually we find our bus only to be kicked off by the conductor because we have luggage? Odd.

Anycase, we find another bus, sitting in its docking bay. We get on, slide our luggage under the seats so the conductor cant see and wait. Everyone is seated and a half hour goes past and we are sweating in places we never knew could emit sweat. The bus starts up its engine. It reverses out of the bay, moves about 10 yards and then switches off its engine. More passengers board as we wait another 15 minutes - this time we allow the standing passengers to board. Off we go!

The bus stops approximately 10 times on route. Each time I think that there is no possible way they can take more people, but they do. I see a woman hand her baby to seated passenger thru the window while she struggles to push herself on. Simone has someones foot on top of hers (no shoes) and Ive got someones arm across my face. This makes London rush hour on the tube look feel like the expansive deserts of the Sahara.

The DVD player isn't working so at least we have some respite from the sounds of Bollywood.
Two hours pass and we arrive safely, if not a little smelly.

Pondi

2007-03-09T14:40:00.000+05:30

Having relaxed and unwound in Mammalumps we were rather keen to check out this town.It was recommended by a few people as it has a prevalent french feel with some great architecture and ambiance.

However this is only in one part of town and the Indians have made it their own too. Its an interesting mix. The police wear the same uniforms as they do in France but work in the Indian style (i.e. do nothing). The govt building are all french marvels but in the Indian style (i.e. dusty, in need of a paint job, messy and odd assortment of furniture from 50 years ago). The restaurants are french too and french only.... wicker chairs, gingham table clothes, overpriced, poor service and small portions. The only Indian trait here is the offering of Indian dishes and the food served by a local.

Its all very nice but not what we want right now.

Our hotel, a lovely traditional house with courtyard in the middle - it would have been amazing but when we arrive we are greeted by a thousand Indians using the 12 bedroom hotel as location for a tv serial. Our room door opens on to their set and our window looks out onto the generator truck. Lovely.
We wake up to the sound of 'action'.

Everytiime we leave our room we have to ask as not to be in shot. There are light stands and rigs everywhere and every piece of their equipment is from about 1920. Its interesting to say the least. I tell them I work in Tv and get a minimum of 4 business cards, an introduction to the art director (I tell him to use a tripod instead of handheld) and even an offer to be on camera. (I refuse).

We leave the next day after getting a "noise discount" from the hotel - I think it should be called a "total inconvenience" discount. Its a bus to a town an hour away and then an overnight train to Trivandrum, Kerala on the southwest tip of India.

One of the many flower decorations in shops all round India and Sim sitting infront of their stock (which is usually just kept on the pavement in piles!)

Cheap Thrills

2007-03-09T14:24:00.000+05:30

After chilling in Mammallapuram for about a week we want to head off to Pondicherry, a french enclave down the road. We ask the tuktuk driver to drop us at the bus stop.

He does.
Its the end of town.
We are sitting on a piece of dirt on the highway with only an advertising board to keep us sheltered from the sun. No sign - that says bus stop - or of people anywhere. A stray goat for company.

Three buses pass us before one stops. We both get a seat (not next to each other) and with bags on our laps we head off. The bus booms out a Bollywood film on 2 small tvs in the front. Volume level is Max plus 10. Oh well at least we aren't in a cab.

The bus ride is about an hour and a half and costs 60 rupees for the both of us (about 70pence). I just wish they would spend the money they receive on any of the following;

Doors (front and back)

Driver Education

Suspension and/or shock absorbers

Brakes

The road is flat but has numerous curves and every time we approach one I'm wondering how we either don't topple over or someone doesn't fall out. Its not that we are travelling fast its just that the driver doesn't slow down for corners. I try and concentrate on the film, after all its in Hindi and a mix between Jackie Chang and a Peter Sellars flick. How bad can it be? Well its better than watching the road.

Sim ...

I sat in the bus, just beside the door opening, shitting myself that someone was going to fall out. I had heard two stories of people falling out of driving buses due to the lack of doors. I could see the back of Ant's head and he looked like he was chatting to the guy next to him - looked like a cricket chat. We got to our destination in one piece.

Our bus, DVD and all

Mamallapuram

2007-03-09T14:01:00.000+05:30

Mamallapuram, in South East India, is known as the place where waves dance to the symphony of stones.

It's a gorgeous little seaside village and all day you can hear the stone carvers chipping away at their sculptures. It has such a chilled out atmosphere. Most of the sculptures are of religious gods and goddesses but such amazing work. The artists love to talk about their work and can spend ages telling us the storis related to the different gods in different positions. One artist, a painter, told us that he had studied in Mamallapuram. When we asked him what subjects he had studied he said that Art was the only course on offer.

There are hundreds of yoga places and ayurvedic massage centres. I found such a lovely yoga teacher, Salamon. The classes are 150 rupees each but you get a discount if you go more often.

A small village, tiny in Indian terms 12000. Bohemian.. .the usual thing going on... everyone wanting to sell you stuff, (minimal) beggars, mosquitoes and cows walking the streets. The tsunami hit this place but its hard to distinguish whats destroyed and whats just poverty on the beach front.

Still overwhelmed by the last two cities and their windowless hotels, we check into the best place in town. So much for roughing it.

Hotel Sea Breeze lives up to its name. Its also the only place in town that has a pool.
We abuse it as the waiter at lunch tells me the locals sh1t in the sea.

Left: The quiet street with a stone masons shop foreground , Right: A cow walks the beach

We are finally having a good time, we are now in fishing village and fish is on the menu. We go to the same restaurant everyday for breakfast and dinner (Nautilus). Its run by a french guy and the waiter loves as we are from SA. He loves his cricket and ordering anything involves a half hour chat about the best allrounder or the most economical bowling figures in a world cup. The food is brilliant and cheap.

The village is famous for its stone masons. You walk the streets (these were a breeze compared to Mumbai and Chennai) and hear the sounds of chipping and chiseling as the locals work on buddhas, shiva statues and all other sorts of gods in stone from 2 inches to 7 foot. Its amazing to see as many of them don't even have more than one tool (chisel).

We have a routine, we are here for a number of days, we make friends with a few travellers and a few locals including a 10 year old who runs the phone booth but just wants to hear you talk on the phone to improve her English.
We are smiling everyday.

Everyday except for the day we go to the post office. Sim has brought too many clothes despite the warnings and has some light trousers made at the tailors here (3 Quid each and we felt we were ripped off). As with everything in India, process is paramount and overrides common sense at every corner. To post something you need to find a box. Not easy as everything is used again and again for different uses. Fill the box and take it to the post office, open, to show them what you are sending. Next its off to the tailors who makes a fabric cube for the box to go inside. He stitches it up and now you have a box covered in fabric. Next is the wax seal on every seam.

Back to the post office. Weight the item yourself.
Glue in a bottle and paint brush to put on your stamps. Sent. Finally, 3 hours later.

More stone carvings - all hand made

The rest of the time here is spent abusing the pool, eating at Nautilus and walking the few streets. We walk up to the road to go see some rock carvings from centuries back but otherwise we are happy to release the stress of the cities, the grey of London and the fear of taxi rides.

Our friend Sangeetha from the phone shop and some amazing carvings near the village

Chennai

2007-03-09T13:44:00.000+05:30

We skipped the train ride here.. there was a bomb on a train between Delhi and Pakistan... so we flew. Not sure whats more dangerous.. having to face the the taxi ride back to the airport or flying India's version of easyjet...called 'spicejet.' They give you yummy biscuits and bottles of water on the plane.

We leave the airport.. now wise to the aircon taxi ride trick and head for our hotel. By the time we arrive its dark and the street our hotel is in looks rather dodgy. Chennai ( what used to be called Madras) is similar to Mumbai - big, busy and loud, however, the streets are wider here so more traffic to negotiate at every turn.

We check into our room.
No window again.
It still looks safer than the darkening street outside.

We attempt to walk the street. We last 5 minutes. We are the only westerners and suddenly not feeling so touristy anymore. We find a shopping center, once again, so overwhelmed we are blinded and find ourselves in a pizza hut ... I hate that crap and my last time in one of their restaurants was on the Durban beachfront aged about 10 - but we would have taken anything except for the flea infested, disease ridden street food on offer.

Afterwards, we attempt to walk around again. To our delight we find the 5 star hotel round the corner. The pattern is emerging as we head in to use the facilities.. toilets, lounge and coffee shop. Safe.

The next morning our street doesn't look any better. We are leaving for Mamallapuram - 55km's away. We hire a taxi as to avoid the bus station. The cab driver fills up with gas. I look around, we are sitting on a bench above the gas tank. Oh well.. ..

Mumbai

2007-03-09T13:14:00.001+05:30

The cab brings us to our hotel (prebooked) in one piece. We are so excited to be alive, this combined with what we have just seen/smelt on the way here distracts us as our hotel room has no window.
We don't care.

We hit the streets in the busy tourist area of Colaba. Its all madness, people everywhere, beggars, street children, street stalls.. (if you vaguely look you get a fierce selling routine - to be explained later)... our highlight is seeing a man with no eyeballs. We are so overwhelmed we duck into the 5-star Taj Mahal opposite the Gateway of India. We have lunch there and thinks it s a steal at about 14 Quid. Suitably recovered, we walk the streets again only to find shelter in our hotel room after a few hours.

The combination of jetlag and no windows mean we wake up at about midday the following morning. We hit the streets again. More of the same. Walk + Taj Mahal (no lunch this time, just using the facilities) = Tolerable.

Our highlight this day is we walk past Leopolds. Its a coffee shop that has a intricate part in the book 'Shantaram' by Gregory David Roberts. Sim and I have read it and loved it so we were happy to see the place. We walk the streets again.

Roadworks Mumbai style

The next few days are like this again. Throw in a trip to the train station to book a ticket to Chennai, a rickshaw drive down Marine Drive, a sunset moment on Chowpatty beach (Mumbai's version of Camps bay), a bout of food poisoning and an accidental walk past the slum (interesting to put it lightly) our highlight is another trip past Leopolds. However, this time the author is there and we stop for a chat and a signature. He's and amazing man but we chat for a while and he signs an autograph for us. Sim's friends can only laugh in disgust as she took so long to read the book they say.. she doesn't deserve the signing!

Left:Ant outside the entrance to Leopolds Right: A side road in Mumbai at night

India.. our arrival

2007-03-07T23:13:00.000+05:30

After a nine hour flight we arrive in Bombay or Mumbai.. whatever you want to call it.. it seems to be an Indian thing that you can call a place by several names which makes things a little confusing.

We hire a cab from the prepaid stand.. air con or no air con.. we choose air con.. only to find that the driver drives with the windows open.. a true sign of how things work in India. Its great.. we can smell everything and hear every hoot of a horn on our way to our hotel. At first India is mind blowing.. the poverty is just unreal but its a welcoming distraction from the driving.

Driving in India takes either balls of steel or plain stupidity.. cars, bikes and autorickshaws, pedestrians, bicylces, cows and makeshift carts are all fair game. Signs read 'please obey traffic signs'... no one does.

We are on a 3 lane highway/road..I guess.. there are no markings. The cab driver follows the mass philosophy of if there is a space take it.. and if there's no space take it twice as fast. A number of times we could have held hands with other passengers in another car/bus/rickshaw/bike in mid journey or at what seems to be one of 3 traffic lights that the drivers will actually stop at.

It only been 20 minutes and we have already seen 5 people on one motorbike..2 parents and 3 kids. As I said.. watching the poverty and the dirt along the side of the road was a welcome distractiion.

Our cab, small but fiesty!