The Wobble

There is definitely more than one way to skin a cat in this country. Yesterday when I arrived in tanjore I made it my business to find out when the bus to pondicherry left, the guy told me 3.30 and 7. He had unfortunately left out the am and pm bits so when I turned up at 3.30 at the bus stop there was no bus in sight with pondicherry on the front, I asked the lad at the counter and he said that that bus was at 3.30am. So there I was stood at a blisteringly hot bus stop with 4 hours to kill – I needed something to eat so over I went to the local cafe for some thali.
Sitting there I got into various conversations with some of the locals, they were livid at the behaviour of the australian cricketers in the ongoing test match in australia, I am unfortunate enough to look like one of the aussie cricketers so they for some bizarre reason think that I am one of them. Needless to say knowing a wee bit of whats going on goes a long long way. It was while I was talking to these lads that I remembered the trip from ooty to cochin, should’ve been one bus but ended up as 3. I got up immediately and over to the bus station and just asked for the first bus north. There was a town 30 miles north of tanjore that had a bus every 10 minutes to pondicherry so I made for there. 30 minutes I waited for the bus to turn up before I turned and asked the station manager when the next one was due, ‘Every 5 minutes’ he said – sometimes you have to laugh. Eventually it did come and on the bus I was.
I made it at last to pondicherry at 9 at night, I was absolutely wrecked so decided it was about time that I treated myself to somewhere decent for one night before finding somewhere that was more phil so to speak. I booked into the first place listed in the midrange hotel list according to the lonely planet, they had a big TV, room service, the lot so I was happy out here for one night.

I swapped hotels the next day early enough and then went onto explore pondi. It really doesn’t fit in with the rest of the country. First of all it is planned out in a grid fashion which makes it impossible to get lost. Secondly all the street signs are in french, but make no mistake you know before long that you are in india. There are plenty of hawkers, quite a few beggars and the food though it says it is french – its a rather tenuous connection. I walked into one place and ordered something that sounded french but when it came out it wasn’t something to write home to mother about – by any stretch of the immagination….

I met up with the english girls that I had met at xmas in varkala on my third night in pondi. It was great to meet up with some familiar faces after a couple of weeks in tamil nadu temple hunting. We had some nice food before I took off back to the hotel. Before I left we made plans to travel together up the coast to a place called mamallapuram to spend a week or so – happy days. As I walked back to the hotel, which was less than 1km away I found myself walking along the road on a starry night just thinking whatever thoughts to myself, ducking out of the way of hawkers selling their wares and turning right occasionally so see what the guys on the street were cooking up. All the while on my left hand side there was this massive, and I mean bloody huge, the size of the big shed at home in lavagh was this elephant, just walking down the street. I seriously just thought to myself, ‘what the hell is going on? this is just something that you don’t see in ireland!!!’ it was completely crazy yet totally the coolest thing ever. How often do you walk out of whelans or the village or buddies at home and you share the walk home with a bloody elephant….

woke up the next morning feeling a bit crap. throat was sore, head hurt and my eyes were in bits. Managed to make it to the local doctor, it was a sunday so the only place that was open was a nursing home. I dunno what it is, what design there might be for me but who ever put it together obviously has a sense of humour as I keep on getting thrown into these bizaare situations. I walked into this place and the nurses there just looked at me as if to say, ‘you’re the youngest looking old person we have seen in a while’, of course not one of them had a word of english so after about 10 minutes to pointing at my throat, coughing and generally trying to act as if I am on the verge of a collapse they figured out that I needed to see the doctor. It was like a game of charades!!! I eventually got some anti-biotics so I could join the girls on the trip up north to the long awaited and yearned for beach!!!

Tanjore was but a short hop up the road from trichy. It is however a goodbit off the beaten track and doesn’t attract that many western travellers, infact no where I have been since Varkala have I seen more than a handful of fellow pink skinned people. As a result there are no kind of ‘western style’ catering. So for 7 days I had to eat with and like locals.
Their meals are quite simple – for breakfast they have either idyls which are rice dumplings that come served with a light curry sauce or they have a dosa which is a lentil pancake with the same curry sauce or what they call gravy. For lunch/dinner you can only get a thali which basically just means Meal. I really like these meals, every restaurant does them differently and when they see a western guy like me walk in they are very eager and forthcoming with how to eat it. Basically you are given a large Banana Leaf which you need to wash down. They then put a massive scoop of rice into the middle then surround the rice with different vegtable curries or chutneys. Like every classic 1980s action movie the bad spicy stuff is in black and the good guy white stuff is what you consume last just in the nick of time before your lips explode. It is all topped off with a popadom and a cup of chai. For the evening meal you are back in dosa land, they are really nice. My favourite is the Paneer Dosa which is the pancake stuffed with paneer which is an unfermented goats cheese – it is also laced with chillis. I had one in trichy the other day that nearly blew my head off – delicious stuff!!! The best thing I am sure you can imagine about all of this is the price. A full meal has never cost more than 50 rupees and thats with a bottle of water. Thats about 80-90 cents.

Tanjore is a much smaller place than trichy and madurai. It felt more like a little village. It is quite famous though throughtout india first and foremost for the local temple which has world heritage status but it was also a focal point for the british administration when they ruled the roost 60 odd years ago. Again I stayed right beside the bus stand in a really nice hotel that was very cheap thankfully.

The temple , known locally as the ‘The Big Temple’, bet they had several commitee meetings to come up with that name, is phenomenal. By far and away the most impressive structure I have seen in india so far. It amazes me that people go to just madurai and not to places like here and trichy.

The sheer size

of the place is the first thing that hits you, its massive. Its made completely out of sandstone so it doesn’t have the same childish colour scheme that the temple in madurai had. I was lucky to be able to spend 2 or 3 hours in the complex itself, several times locals would come up and ask for a picture. I had to take the portrait of an entire dynasty at one stage, must have been about 30 of them in the picture. As soon as it was taken they all rush in a complete frenzy to have a look at the results. The men are always proud of how they appear but the women tend to look through their hands at their pictures like they way you would look at the climatic scene of a bad horror movie, they are incredibly self concious.

When the sun goes down the light goes away very quickly so its always a good idea to make it back to the digs as the street lighting here ins’t the may west. So off I went back to the nice hotel and ESPN. Tomorrow I must find away to get to Pondicherry which the guidebook tells me is a little bit of france in the middle of india – sounds intruiging.

later,
Phil

Having some issues with photos at the moment – they should be coming soon!!

I left madurai on the second of january, grabbed a public bus (yes one of those buses) to a town called trichy which is about 120 km north of madurai. I had the option of going to a place called Kodaikanal which is the only hill station in india that was built by americans, but the logistics of getting there and back didn’t sound too appealing so I decided to keep on going north.
Trichy is another temple town – the temple here is known as the Rock Fort Temple and was meant to be worth a visit. So I figured I would give it one night. I booked into a hotel just across the road from the bus stand, figured it would be a good for a quick getaway the following day. Trouble with that is it left me with a pretty long walk to get to the temple itself. I prob should’ve just gotten a rickshaw but figured I could’ve done with the exercise.
The temple itself according to the guidebook stands ontop of a 90 metre rock that stands clear of the surrounding area so I figured that should be easy to find in a small town like this. Took me ages to find it, the heat was something serious and the streets were pretty tight together. I eventually made it up to the main bazaare area at about 5 o’clock so I had 50 minutes left of daylight to get to the top of the temple and watch the sunset over the city. Trichy is a great little town, really really busy and people don’t hassle you. There are tonnes of shops and everywhere you look it seems to be an open air market. I eventually found the entrance to the rock temple, its guard dog – a massive elephant. I deposited my sandles (As is customary practice in every temple) at the door and made my way up the steps. I had thought that the rule about having to walk barefoot was aimed at keeping the place clean but its actually meant to get your feet dirty with temple dirt which isn’t something you should dwell on for too long. My feet were in bits by the time I got up to the top but it was worth it. I managed to sneak into the hindu only temple at the very pinnacle of the monument to watch the last 20 minutes of the sun set. It was a fabulous sight.

After a while I made my way back to the hotel to plan my trip up the road to Tanjore.

I arrived into madurai after dark, as I said before its a bad time to arrive anywhere especially when you need to find yourself somewhere to stay and something to eat. Madurai is a big town, the second biggest in tamil nadu. It is the site of this massive temple called The Meenakshi Temple which has up to 10,000 people visiting it on a daily basis either on pilgrimage or as a tourist. As a result of such an influx of people there is plenty of accomodation there to cater for them, luckily enough the train station was right beside temple area so it wasn’t too hard to find a place. Needless to say I had to battle my way through the incessant wave of rickshaw drivers who were eager for business to get to the main thoroughfare. I checked into the first place that would have me, as an added bonus they have satelite tv so I could watch lots of new year soccer. The only negative about the room was that it only had a squat toilet, I have still to fully master that nuance of asian culture. It was 2 days shy of new years so I decided to stay there for 4 days just to get over the highest part of the high season.

I visited the temple the following morning. The first thing that hits you about the building is the sheer size of it. There are 4 sides to the complex each with a massive tower measuring over 50 metres each, each of these towers were pointed either north east south or west. Like all temples in india its necessary to leave yer sandles at the door, its meant to be a free service but if you don’t tip these people they will call on all of fury of shiva to fall on yer head. I arrived there while the temple inside was closed for lunch so there were hundreds if not thousands of pilgrims sitting around in the shade eating their lunch which consisted of a big serving of rice served on a banana leaf with what we call at home curry but what they call simply gravy. They might have one or two portions of vegetables to mix in aswell. I spent about an hour walking around trying to take in the temple. They really have a bizaare colour scheme going on, everything was in technicolor. To be honest I thought it looked a little childish and it was completely over the top. There is another temple inside the main complex called the temple of a thousand pillars. It was pretty cool and defo worth the 30 rupees or so that it cost to get in.

I think the next day in madurai will be the one that stands out the most. 2 nights is probably the optimum amount of time to spend in the city as there isn’t a whole lot to see apart from the temple complex, so as you can imagine spending 4 days there left me idle for quite a while some days. After checking my email I walked past this barber shop effort where there was a young guy at the door asked me if I wanted to get a haircut – remembering the jibe that I got from the guy on the bus to Cochin I decided it was time to take the plunge, that and I needed to kill some time before the soccer started later on that night. So in I went. The barbers name was Vil, 19 year old from a village a half an hour north of madurai. He got paid 100 rupees (less than 2 euro) a day (though I am well aware this could well have been a sob story to extort a decent tip out of me). I asked for a short haircut all over. Of course he nodded and proceeded to cut just the back of my head. Asked him again to cut the top the same length as the back, took ages to get the message across – you really need to be patient. I took the chance to get a proper shave, cut throat style aswell. When he was finished that the real fun started. He asked me if I wanted a head massage – I replied ‘No, Its okay’. Now I think I have mentioned before that the word no just doesn’t work here, so he just picked up ‘Okay’, so before I knew it this young lad was rubbing coconut oil into my head before giving it a proper bashing. He beat me around the place, its hard not to laugh when someone half your size is giving you a hiding. After the head he moved to the shoulders, then the upper arms, on down to my forearms and then he massaged my fingers individually. Now to be honest I was really enjoying it at this stage, no point in fighting it I figured.
He then produces a box from a cupboard which had 6 tubs of multi fruit flavoured cream. He asks me if I wanted it, again I make the dumb mistake ‘No, its okay’ – off with the lid of the first one and onto the face with some blackberry concoction – I was getting a bloody facial…
They even had a facial sauna thing which he ducked my head into every couple of minutes for what seemed like an eternity, my neck muscles were wrecked from resisting him pushing my head fully into what was nothing more than a bloody kettle without a lid. 4 more creams followed before he hit me with the pineapple flavour. as soon as this was applied I could feel it getting kinda stiff on my face. He put me leaning back staring at the ceiling while he buggered off to get his lunch – for 40 minutes I sat there wondering when the hell he was going to come back. I managed to get a glimpse of myself with the crap on my face, I looked like an oompa loompa that had just seen a ghost, my knee jerk reaction was to laugh but the cream had completely set so I couldn’t move my facial muscles at all. He did come back eventually and removed me from my prison. I walked into that place at 4 in the afternoon, it was not gone 6.45. It cost about 8 euros for the whole shabang. Twas an experience if nothing else 🙂 Not sure I would go for a facial again though, think its major surgery more than anything else that would be required to make this mug pretty 🙁

New years was pretty uneventful for me, it doesn’t really mean anything when you are not with family or friends. There were feck all tourists around madurai aswell so I rang the new year in on the hotel balcony watching fireworks across the temple complex amidst the muffled localised versions of auld langs syne. I shared the moment with one of the hotel porters, he didn’t seem to bothered either. Twasn’t long before I made my way to bed.

I left madurai on the 2nd of january. 2 days would’ve done it but I guess given the time of year it did the job nicely. Next journey was a 4 hour bus trip to Trichey to take in some of the sites my indian friend from the train implored me to visit…

Phil

Right – this entry is from a couple of weeks ago. I’m sure it shouldn’t distress you too much to think back that far. As I mentioned before we arrived late into fort cochin. The journey from the bus stop in Ernakulam (Main part of Cochin) to the Fort (which is a penisula) took alot longer than we expected it to. It was a good 40 minutes in a rickshaw before we pulled up on Burgher street right in the middle of the action. Its Xmas week so you can imagine what it was like trying to find accomodation. We did find a place eventually Hotel Anjuna which was a little pricey but at that time of night you are just happy to get a place. It was only free until the 23rd so we had 3 nights to make the most of Fort Cochin.
After breakfast the following morning myself and adonai headed off for a walk while the others took care of their own business. We walked down to the shore of the port which was crawling with people. Dotted along the shore were several chinese fishernets, massive contrapments they use a counterweights (usually scrawny indian men) to lower the nets into the deep harbour before pulling out whatever the hell was in there. It was fascination to see this mechanism in action. We continued our walk out west past the fishermen on onto the beach where a few brave souls were swimming through what can only have been dieseled up water.
It was quite beautiful. All the time we were being stopped for photos or ‘Hello sir, How are you today?’
We spent about 2 hours walking around the headland through what was easily the most affluent area of india that I have been to, some of the houses would have fitted right in malibu, blackrock or lavagh!!! There is a very strong portugese influence in Cochin, Vasco the Gama is buried here (i think), there are many many churches and alot of the people had portugese names.
There is a tradition in Kerala and esp here in cochin to buy your fish straight of the fishermen when they return in the evenings from their days work then bring the fish to a restaurant of your choice where they will cook it for you for a nominal fee – thus cutting out the middle man. So that was the plan of action for the night. I let the guys pick a fish and negotiate a price as I stood back and observed – I know nothing about fish so thought it best to keep the head down low. Eventually they secured a massive red snapper which weighed 3 kilos plus a load of calimari and king prawns. I got talking to this local kid called ricardo who was touting his restaurant, I managed to negotiate a good fee for cooking the lot plus also a discount on whatever beer we drank – as I say everything is up for negotiation 🙂
The fish was absolutely phenomenal. Cooked in garlic, lemon and ginger with a healthy dose of butter and a pinch of salt – man my mouth is watering as I type. SO so so tasty – nicest fish ever. It fed 4 of us and cost all included 8 euro.

The following day was another corker, got up late for breakfast. The rest of the crew were already halfway thru their porridge but someone had lost something belonging to someone else so there was a bit of tension. They were grown up so I let them deal with it while I headed off with marika for a walk around the other darker poorer side of cochin. We walked east along the coast this time, my plan, which I kept to myself was to get as lost as possible and spend our time walking around trying to find our way home. We had a great time over the next couple of hours, the people in total contast to the affluent areas were so friendly and nice. They just don’t get tourists walking these streets because it is so off the beaten track that when they do see you they come running over to shake your hand or want to get their picture taken. One guy brought his whole family out on the street to get a family portrait – I still have his address so I will have to try and post that back to him when I get the chance. After the photo he started to bring out all the house decorations he had, it was quite bizaare but again really humbling. We walked on and came across a reading room which basically was a dirty old lit room with 4 old men sitting there going through the daily newspaper – Paddy Joe you would love it!! We passed by the dogiest butcher and what looked like a one legged chicken that I figured had escaped the evil clutches of the victualler, turns out it actually had 2 legs, crap story I know, I guess you really had to be there. We made our way back eventually to the hotel. We bought some tickets for the Karikali performance that night in the local theatre. We read all the blurb about it, about the guys having to train for years before they could take to the stage about how it is such a reknown art form etc etc. So that was the plan for the evening. We sat into this place at about 5 and it didn’t finish till well after 8 and it was the single greatest load of crap I have ever laid my eyes on, luckily enough it was so bad that it was hilarious. It reminded me of the one man play that the dudes landlord puts on in the middle of the big lebowski – 3 grown men jumping around shaking branches and shreeking like 7 year old girls….
That night I met the first irish tourist in india (brendan doesn’t count) – Kevin from wexford. Hasn’t lived in ireland for 40 years but still had the accent. Watched liverpool vs portsmouth in his company though it was hard to concentrate on the soccer as his accounts of his travels were something else. He arrived in india 35 years about with 250 irish pounds in his pocket and spent 18 months here, lived for months in Goa before there was a sinner there, spent a week sleeping on the floor of the Golden temple in Amritsar, spent 3 months sleeping rough in Karachi before landing a job on an african cargo vessel on which he got to see pretty much every port there is to see in the world.

With that brought an end to our time in Fort Cochin, it also spelt the end of our travelling group. Marika flew back to holland just in time for Xmas and Homer and Dana took their seperate path. So it was down to me and the crazy peruvian and a trip down the coast to Allepy to take in the famous backwaters of Kerala.

When it seems like you have all the time in the world and a budget that is a step or two above miserly you don’t mind waiting for trains. Sitting in the shade listening to my creative zen throw out tunes randomly was quite enjoyable. It took about four hours to travel down the bottom of the west coast from Varkala to KanyeKumari (Indias most southerly point). The scenery combined with the time of day made the journey a very pleasant one. I got myself the seat beside the emergency exit (just in case) but it also had the bonus of being the only window in the carriage without any metal bars on it so I had a full unobstructed view of the scenery which was a lovely mix of paddi fields interupped every now and again by some coconut plantations – this combined with the deep red sun setting over the arabian sea really was something special to behold. At several junctures you pass children playing away, men more often than not huddled in groups of ten or more discussing I’m guessing not alot and women who seemed to be either carrying several tonnage on their craniums or hammering clothes of rocks by muddy pools with the hope of cleaner clothes. It definitely gives you some idea of the rural indian family dynamic.
I arrived into KK after dark – its a bad time to arrive anywhere esp when you have no accomodation sorted. You know you are in india without opening your eyes. As I walked towards the station (indian trains are huge, it takes several minutes to walk the length of them) several women jumped out of the general carriages and ran up to the wall before crouching down and relieving themselves – this must be a common occurance here as the smell here was really bad. I wondered to myself why they just couldn’t go on the carriage where the toilets are well useable. It was less than 24 hours before I got a full and emphatic answer to that little question.
I needed a gaff so after a quick review of what the lonely planet had to offer I planned a route around the town which was quite small and easily done by foot. The first place listed was knocked down, the second was full and the third, well the third was a raging flea pit!! They had the cheek to ask for 600 rupees, I laughed in yer mans face – I’m not going to pay for a blood infection. So off I scarpered. I tried at least 5 more places, all were full and I was getting tired. Finally I got a place at the Tri Sea hotel which was waaaay over my budget but I didn’t care, I just wanted my room. And to be fair this room ranks second to the one I had in bangalore – big tv, clean bed, hot shower and a nice view. All for 20 euro. My max budget per day is about 25 euro for india so I knew I had to make up the difference elsewhere.
I went of searching for some food, KK is a small small town relative to the rest of the country. It is a major pilgrimage spot for hindus though so most places are hotels or lodge houses so this had the effect of making the streets there incredibly busy. I enjoyed walking around, looking at the stalls, getting down to the beach to stick my toe off the end of india etc. I stopped into a locals place for some masala dosa which is basically a massive pancake with some curried vegtables. There were no knifes nor forks so it was left hand under the bum time again. Washed that down with two cups of chai (which is my new second favourite drink after guinness ). The bill came to 26 rupees – which is about 45 cents. Now thats the dictionary definition of ‘making it up elsewhere’!!
I went back to bed and slept like a log.
Had wonderful intentions of getting up early to watch the sunrise over the indian ocean – but you know me – tis a bit like expecting cavan to win the all-ireland, nice thought but completely unrealistic. I walked down to the shore and had a look around. There is an island off the coast with a massively impressive statue of some local poet and also a rather large temple for hindu worshippers. I decided it was a bit safer to admire from afar – the boat was a rust bucket and the people were many many!!
After a wee while I headed off to collect my stuff and head for the train to madurai in search of some more temples and cheaper accomodation (more so the latter). When I arrived at the station there were just general tickets on sale – I thought whats the harm in getting one, its that or a bus. How bad could it be? I walked up to the general carriages and they were full – I don’t mean irish full I mean india full. The carriages looked like it was sweating people – it was horrible. I managed to squeeze into the tightest space but when I put my bag down my sunglasses much to the amusement of everyone else, fell off my head, out the door and in under the train. When I got out to retrieve them, two indian lads took my place. I was in there for about 30 seconds and the sweat was streaming off me. Can you imagine a 5 hour journey??? Imagine having to go to the loo in that, I guess that explains the old ladies dilemna. I then got the idea of asking the ticket master for an upgrade – thank god there was. I was ecstatic to take my seat in second class no AC beside the same emergency window for the 5 hour journey. To make matters even better I ended up sitting beside this loverly guy from Kanyekumari who pointed out places to see in Tamil Nadu and even gave me a packet of sweets from his local place – which were dried bananas in a hot powder. Strange at first but quite addictive.

Sin e

Myself and adonai grabbed a bus from Allepy to a town called Kablam. Tell me right now, is that or is that not the coolest name of any town in the history of man kind. I figured that the script writer of the old batman tv series must have come here to find himself or was born here or something.
Varkala is a 10 km journey from this town. It really is a stunning setting. A cliffside beach facing west so it got perfect sunsets every evening. The top of the cliff was lined with various resturants, bars and accomodation. We booked into a pricey 1300 a night place before eventually finding one for a third of the price alot closer to the action aswell. It was booked out from the 28th onwards so I would have to move on for somewhere to stay over new years. Oh well at least I’ll have xmas on the beach.

When we got settled in I headed straight for the surf, left my gear with adonai and jumped right in. Christ the waves there are vicious, more so than anywhere I have ever seen. Time and time again someone would come back to the shore after being completely battered by the sea. This made a great place for body surfing but an absolute death trap for swimming.

Varkala being a resort, a tiny one at that was full of westerners on their xmas break. So we ended up running into the same people time and time again, which in one way isn’t great but for xmas it turned out perfectly. Xmas day was spent nursing a rum and coke hangover on the beach with adonai and two english girls Rohanna and Laila we met there the previous night.

To be honest nothing really worth reporting happened in varkala, much like goa it was a cycle of swim, eat, swim, eat then drink for 4 nights. The guys who work in the bars and restaurants were good craic – they even let me plug in my mp3 player The day before I left adonai flew out to dehli to do his tour of the north. It was a blast travelling with him but all good things come to an end…

I am on my way to Kanyekumai now – it is the most southerly point in the country, not sure what there is to see down there but figured it is worth it just to say that I have actually travelled the length of india when I cross over the border to nepal in 2 months time.

Adios,
Phil

India is a crazy country full of crazy people – they are as someone wise once said ‘a nation of del boys’. Absolutely everything is up for negotiation. It was one thing that I feared most about coming here – negotiating a fair price. I pretty much don’t have a clue what somethings should and shouldn’t cost so rather than get burnt for a few sheckles for the first couple of weeks I didn’t engage in any kind of bartering that wasn’t absolutely essential with regards to my survival.
That has changed though – slowly but surely I started first with the rickshaw lads. Its dead simple to bounce one of these guys against another as they seem to be omnipotent in this place. I think I finally earned my cert in bartering when it came to finding a houseboat.
We got off the bus in a town called Allepy which is approximately 3 hours south of Cochin on the now obligatory public bus. We had to stand on this one so that made it a little more interesting. It was really cramped and very warm, it is a good job that the roads in Kerala are by far and away the best that we have encountered yet – the drivers are still certifiable though.
Allepy is tiny so it was impossible to get lost – it was a sunday 2 days before xmas day so I didn’t hold out too much hope in finding a boat for that day but I reckoned it was worth chancing our arm. Outside the tourist office which was closed, there were one or two shady customers. I asked them about the houseboats and they just pointed to a lad in a rickshaw. We asked him and before we know it we are bombing up the road in his rickshaw holding on for dear life. He drops us outside an ‘office’. Inside were two guys, brothers. The younger guy had better english but it was the older guy that owned the boat so it was with him that we had to break the deal.
After the extremely brief niceties we got down to business. Adapting a new strategy i started ridiculously low. 2000 rupees which was met with immediate derision. 6000 was my target as that is what I had heard some others had paid for it a few weeks previous, prior to the current high season. The he offers it for 6, happy days but there was no way I was going to settle for his first offer. I was sure I could get him to below 5, to and fro we went – each coming up with impromtu economic lectures. Eventually we got him down to 5200 and 2 bottles of beer, food and 2 beds all included. The whole process took almost an hour, by the time i was finished, adoni was lying in the ditch curled up in the foetal position. I wasn’t ecstatic at the price but after talking to other people we had actually managed to get it for half of anything else that I had heard which made it feel like a proper accomplishment.

The Backwater experience was something else. It was really beautiful, our food was excellent and we started off in good form with the guys who were working on the boat. They had extremely limited english so communication was an issue, esp when the storm clouds gathered later on when we ran out of beer. The problems really kicked in when they pulled up the boat by the river bank after just 2 hours cruising, I thought it was a bit cheeky and started at the lads about pulling up so early, about what we were promised with regards to 52 kilometers of a trip – we had barely gone 5.2 and most of that was through a big lake so we didn’t see much of the tiny coastline. I must have come across as pretty intimidating, rather than the scheduled 8:30 start the next morning we were to start at 6. Even more bother rose its head when the beer we were promised failed to materialise and that the only beer that could be got was pretty extortionate by indian standards, normal for dublin standards. They did produce this actual ‘jungle juice’ which was derived from coconuts but tasted like puke and pee mixed together, my god it was awful!! Single most shocking thing to have ever passed my lips!!! At this stage we were joined by our neighbours from the boat beside us, australian girls from adelaide. The funny thing was that they were completely envious of our relationship with our crew, their own ones wouldn’t interact with them at all – they joined us in the middle of negotiating the price of 3 bottles of beer and thought it was just pure comedy. From then on we spent a few hours chatting away, aided by the illicit beer and the result of a coconut atrocity before hitting the sack. Mosquitos destroyed me once more!!! BASTARDS!!!!

Next day we got up at 6 and headed off. Relations were still a little sour between the crew and the passengers, we were just about afloat again when we were pulled up again. This time the captain beckoned me off the boat, with stunning grace I jumped off without falling into the river or the rice paddy field the other side of the shore. I followed him along the shore then inland where we met two guys on the way for a swim, I asked these guys where he was taking me and they reassured me that I wasn’t about to be the victim of some scam or shooting so I followed him on. The scene was simple stunning, rice fields as far as I could see, small houses surrounded by sheltering trees interrupted the endless fields now and again. The captain seemed to know everyone, everyone had a wave for him. Eventually we pulled up to a shack, his house. Where he, his wife, his son, his daughter inlaw and 3 grandchildren lived. This house was barely the size of our living room at home and contained 4 bedrooms and a kitchen. In I sat in one of the rooms where tea and biscuits were presented to me. I was in heaven, this is what I wanted to go travelling for. The captain pulled out a load of pictures to show me – he was the local council man and therefore a pillar of the local community. I got to take some pictures of the kids who again were adorable, they were the only ones with english aswell. It was gas!!!
My opinion of the captain changed at that point – from then on in I had to defend him from adoni who understandably couldnt understand why I had changed my tune. The rest of the backwaters trip was excellent, lots of canals, wildlife, village life, islands and lagoons. We had a breakfast of curried dumplings which set us up for the trip down to varkala for xmas by the beach….

I decided to go for the seated option on the night time bus to ooty. Its actually not a bad way to travel here in India where the roads are pretty shocking. For about 10 minutes I sat with what seemed like a full double seat to myself but I should’ve known by now that there is no such thing as a spare seat when you are in India. Low and behold an Indian man in I reckon his mid fifties turned up just before lift off to claim the berth next to me. Boy did he smell, I took out my tiger balm and rubbed some under my nose!! Tiger balm is bloody magic people, it works on absolutely everything, its the only thing that makes the bloody mosquitoes who can I reiterate are still having the feast of their lives when they see me coming!!!
This bus also had a large tv up the front, I was about 4 seats back so the earsplitting volume did nothing to aid any sleeping endeavours! They were playing a bollywood movie, it was probably the only film that I have watched more than 5 minutes off. It was really rubbish, seemed to be a mix and match of about 4 seperate american movies – even directly nicking some of the jokes. The locals on the bus absolutely adored it though..
Once that was over I managed to get something resembling sleep for the first time aboard indian buses. I woke up at about 5.30 in the morning, it was still dark but you could tell that the roads were beginning to get steep, the engine of the beat up bus was struggling as it weaved around the endless hairpins. Once it brightened up we arrived into ooty. It was very foggy at this stage. I asked to be dropped off at the first place that was listed on the guidebook. So up and into reflections guesthouse with me. I rang the bell, but no one answered. Figured I would go in anyways. Walked around the house till I found 3 tiny women working in the kitchen, not one of them had a word of english but they got the message that I wanted a room so up they went out the back of the house to where I saw there smiling down at me – Homer, the israeli guy I was hanging out with in Hampi sitting there with a jug of coffee and a big cake. Apparently all the dudes I was hanging out with from when I left goa had pretty much followed the same route as me and they were all in the same guesthouse. I took the room and went to sleep for what seemed like forever.
When I woke up it was pissing rain, rain like I have never seen. It didn’t stop for 2 whole days, as a result Ooty was a complete washout. I knew I was just gonna be there for a day or two so I didn’t bother purchasing cold or wet weather gear, instead I just took the time to chill out in front of the fire drinking tea, coffee and the odd hot toddy. I’m sure in drier times it is a beautiful place to spend some time but it just didn’t happen for me this time.
Getting out of the place was difficult as trains were booked out and some roads were blocked due to landslides caused by the incredible rain. We had to settle for the first time on the public bus system to get us to Cochin, yes the one you see on the tv and the post cards that are incredibly overcrowded and cramped. Its no wonder this is the place that they invented yoga, I don’t buy all that spiritual origin bullcrap, I reckon it was invented so they could squeeze as many people as possible into these rust buckets.
It took 3 buses and 13 hours to get to cochin – sounds like a nightmare but it wasn’t at all. I had a great time – the scenery was at times amazing, going down the mountain was scary at times when you saw the countless number of feet drops that lay but inches from the side of the road. On our second bus from Coimbatore to Trissur I sat beside an electronic engineering graduate from cochin who loved soccer. The time absolutely flew talking to him, I did tease him alot and hit him with lots of jibes about supporting chelsea and various other things, it drove him to ask me ‘Is everyone in your family as crazy as you?’, if only he knew…. He then left me with ‘You need a haircut mister!!’. We arrived into Cochin at 11 that night, we picked the first place that we found and after some really quick food it was off to bed… Kerala for Xmas..

Ciao,
Phil

I’m sure the title of this post will get a snigger or even full blown laugh from some people, esp those that know me. It never struck me as a place that I wanted to visit that much but being in a Hampi made it inevitable that if I wanted to fulfill the objective of making it to Kerala in time for Xmas that Bangalore would need to be at least passed through. The plot thickened even further when I learnt that a mate of mine from Mayo was over at around the same time on work duties so meeting up with him for a few beers along with a proper hot shower a good bed and pretty much a break from the crazy 100 mile an hour mess that is india certainly seemed like a good idea.
So I booked myself onto the 10 hour bus journey from Hospet to Bangalore. I managed to book a single sleeper this time, which means that I didn’t have to share the bunk with anyone else! The problem with this senario though was that the bunk was at the very back of the bus, furthest point away from the back axel so therefore those who remember their physics classes from school should know that maximum displacement occured every time we passed over one of indias endless unmarked speed bumps. I felt like one of those chump wrestlers that gets wheeled out every week to face the champion except that this bout lasted 10 hours. Time and time again just as I was about to doze off THUMP,BANG,WALLOP and it feels like my head is hanging out of my arse!!
This bus trip was also pretty cold. If I had’ve paid the lonely planet a little more attention I would’ve noted that its 1000 metres above sealevel – about the height of irelands tallest mountain so for the first time in india I actually shivered, I know those at home with the current minus 5 degrees will hold little sympathy for me but when you are only wearing a tshirt and the rest of yer clothes are stowed away in the boot it definitely was a desperate times, desperate measures kind of scenario. So I had the in genious idea of taking down all the curtains that were around me and wrapped myself around in them and that did the job nicely!! Though it was an amusing sight indeed for the bus porter when he came to the back of the bus to tell me we had arrived at the terminus.
Arrived into Bangalore at about 7 in the morning. Jumped into an autorickshaw right away and directed the driver to brendans place in the diamond district not too far away from the airport. The one outstanding thing that hits you about bangalore is the sheer military presence that is in the town. Nearly every second building or complex was a military or naval base of some description. People went on about the traffic alot but to my eyes it was no worse than mumbai. Arrived over to brendans place at about 7.30, it was nice, well all I saw of it at that stage was the lobby as the hungover fecker was still comotosed in his bed and couldn’t hear the phone ringing. Eventually made it up to his place and it was class, 3 bed appartment, big huge fresh bed, hot water showers and premiership soccer on the tv – it was just like it was in dream I had on the rough journey there. At this stage I was wrecked, no sleep at all I just wanted pure unaldulterated kip, if I was a playstation game my energy bar would be flashing red red red!!!
But coffee was also called for, went into town on a tuk tuk with brendan. We had a cup of coffee and walked down the main shopping street of Bangalore – to be honest it was like anti india, plenty of people walking around with the latest mobile phones, drinking lattes with a laptop over their shoulder so I didn’t get the same ‘Oh look at the big white boy’ attention that you get in other places. We did call into a tailors shop as brendan was getting a suit made before he went home, while he was off talking to the man of the shop some of the assistants came over to me trying to sell me a suit – he started to show me a whole selection of fabrics going on about how they were so fashionable, pure italian whatyamacallit etc etc Spotting the potential for comedy I asked him with the straightest face ever if he could cut me one in bright pink, I swear it was the first time I have seen an indian speechless!!

After that little episode we went back to brendans place where I got my sleep and him off to work. We went to the pub that night for a few scoops and some food before getting back to bed again. The next day brendans driver ravi brought me around the city to see the sights, now when I put up the pictures on the site you will notice one thing about them compared to most other sets of pictures. There aren’t many – there is fook all to see in Bangalore. I went to this Hindu temple which had one cool statue and a little cave, inside the cave was a load of scenes depicting hindi traditions made out of wax models, paper mache and the movement was driven by some hydraulic machinery – it was hilariously bad – if an 8 year old presented this stuff as an art assignment they would just about scrape a pass for effort. I went to see some palaces and some parks but they were all crap – the palace reminded me off the furniture store at home. I managed to get one picture of that place before a gun totting guard and his whistle quickly made me stick the camera into my bag again.
That night we went for more beers and food this time joined by brendans girlfriend and work mate. We had a good laugh talking the usual rubbish before hitting the sack once more.
Saturday myself and bren went back into the tailor to pick up the suit, it wasn’t quite ready so we headed for a few beers, ya know for a change. In there we got talking to 2 guys, one indian and one english guy. The english guy asked us about this mystical place in dublin that his mates had told him about where the women were so friendly etc etc some place called Coppers!! Told him I never heard of it
That night was brendans work xmas party. I managed to worm my way into the fray. Again another great night was had, indians know how to enjoy themselves. There was a dancefloor there that by the end of the night was completely wrecked with people jumping up and down on it, shaking their rump and generally doing their thing. Hardly any of them were drinking so it makes you wonder are they actually crazy or is there something wrong with us that we feel the need to plough alcohol into our systems to shed our inhibitions. Either way it was still great craic.
Sunday we took it easy, visited Leelas palace for some hangover remedies. A really beautiful shopping centre worth visiting if you are ever in bangalore. Went to watch the abject liverpool utd match before heading to a kareokee bar out beside where brendan worked. It was a funny sight, they had no johnny cash so I didn’t step up to the plate. Plenty did and entertained all.
When we got back to the appartment we threw on a luke kelly dvd and had a few more beers before hitting the sack. Monday as a result was a complete write off, I left the house once for a bounty and twice for good. It was really good meeting up with brendan there, bangalore is a party/drinking town. Don’t go there if you want to see sights, palaces, parks or whatever big cities typically offer. The bus stop in the city market was the only place that really resembled the rest of india, a shambolic mess of people all over the place ether tucking into street food, begging or trying to sell you a rolex. In a weird kind of way it was comforting, it was tough leaving brendan and the easy life but it was time for me and india to reconnect. So onwards to the hill station of ooty – 2400 metres above sealevel!!!

Happy Christmas to everyone/anyone that reads this – and Best wishes in the new year
Christ I am corny!!!
Phil