Whilst returning to my hotel Jaipur from a harrowing bus-ticket-purchasing experience I bumped into Carmen and Patrick.
I went to university with them! We were all so excited to have bumped into eachother, it was totally bizarre and of course, unexpected. I have not seen them in 5 years. They now live in Taiwan and are about to get married in South Africa during what seems to be Wedding Period i.e the month of April!
SO exciting to see them.
I immediately made them check out of the Jai Maa Palace and dragged them with all their luggage to the Pearl Palace. They managed to get a room!
We spent the morning catching up....it was wonderful.
They are meeting up with me tomorrow.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Tantrum
I managed to get a government bus to Jaipur from Agra.
I thought I'd struck luck when one of the hotel owners managed to organise "excellent accomodation and free pick up" upon arrival.
I was bitterly dissapointed when I arrived at the hotel Jai Maa Palace, and had 30 minutes of Mohammed - the pick up man - show me his references from other travellers saying stuff like: "Mohammed, you were such a great guide for Jaipur.....Wow, we had the best time... bla bla bla."
The penny dropped. Sucker.
I was too sick to care. I had lost my voice completely and just needed sleep. I passed out at 8pm and woke up at about 8 feeling better.
Feeling better didn't last long. The night I checked in I was told that there was hot water in my room. Because I was sick, I was really pissed off when I waited 30 minutes only to find that the water was freezing cold. I performed a little and was told that there would be hot water the next day.
Jaipur is a city. It is a crazy city.
Everyone wants to sell you something, show you something, or "talk" to you. I had an incident in the old town where a man asked me to talk to him because he wanted to learn more about the Western World. I was more than happy to sit on the sidewalk chatting. But was so sad when he dragged me into a shop - "just looking, looking is free" after we had been chatting for about 30 minutes.
You cannot escape the haggle.
To be honest, I didn't do much exploring around Jaipur. I missed all the "sights" as I was feeling too fluey.
BUT the tables turned!
After a day of walking through the old city I decided to pop into the Pearl Palace Hotel. The hotel I originally wanted to stay in but was told it was full (which it wasn't - I was lied to by the guy who wanted me at his mate's hotel!).
The Pearl Palace hotel is a piece of heaven amidst the chaotic, noisy, polluted city of Jaipur. Run by Mr Singh and his family, it really is a palace. They have carefully selected Indian artefacts and have decorated their hotel so tastefully. Each nook and cranny bears a new surprise, and in fact just walking around gave me new eyes on the stuff I have been seeing piled into heaps in the shops. Some of the stuff here is quite magnificent and so unusual.
The top of the hotel has these interesting wrought iron chairs scattered around a rooftop restaurant. In the evening they light little fires to warm up the customers. It looks amazing.
It was at that rooftop restaurant that I met Ross and Angie - a really cool American couple who had recently been married (4 months ago). They are on a 10 month trip around the world! Both had city jobs - finance - and they decided to throw it in to spend the first year of their marriage together, travelling. Amazing.
They were so lovely, we spent the entire evening talking about ...everything.
I left feeling so much better and positve.
Again, the contrasts you experience in this country are incredible. Not only in terms of what you see - a policeman beating a rickshaw driver on one side of the road, and a man giving food to a beggar on the other - but also in terms of your emotions.
I have been irate in one moment and so happy the next.
I thought I'd struck luck when one of the hotel owners managed to organise "excellent accomodation and free pick up" upon arrival.
I was bitterly dissapointed when I arrived at the hotel Jai Maa Palace, and had 30 minutes of Mohammed - the pick up man - show me his references from other travellers saying stuff like: "Mohammed, you were such a great guide for Jaipur.....Wow, we had the best time... bla bla bla."
The penny dropped. Sucker.
I was too sick to care. I had lost my voice completely and just needed sleep. I passed out at 8pm and woke up at about 8 feeling better.
Feeling better didn't last long. The night I checked in I was told that there was hot water in my room. Because I was sick, I was really pissed off when I waited 30 minutes only to find that the water was freezing cold. I performed a little and was told that there would be hot water the next day.
Jaipur is a city. It is a crazy city.
Everyone wants to sell you something, show you something, or "talk" to you. I had an incident in the old town where a man asked me to talk to him because he wanted to learn more about the Western World. I was more than happy to sit on the sidewalk chatting. But was so sad when he dragged me into a shop - "just looking, looking is free" after we had been chatting for about 30 minutes.
You cannot escape the haggle.
To be honest, I didn't do much exploring around Jaipur. I missed all the "sights" as I was feeling too fluey.
BUT the tables turned!
After a day of walking through the old city I decided to pop into the Pearl Palace Hotel. The hotel I originally wanted to stay in but was told it was full (which it wasn't - I was lied to by the guy who wanted me at his mate's hotel!).
The Pearl Palace hotel is a piece of heaven amidst the chaotic, noisy, polluted city of Jaipur. Run by Mr Singh and his family, it really is a palace. They have carefully selected Indian artefacts and have decorated their hotel so tastefully. Each nook and cranny bears a new surprise, and in fact just walking around gave me new eyes on the stuff I have been seeing piled into heaps in the shops. Some of the stuff here is quite magnificent and so unusual.
The top of the hotel has these interesting wrought iron chairs scattered around a rooftop restaurant. In the evening they light little fires to warm up the customers. It looks amazing.
It was at that rooftop restaurant that I met Ross and Angie - a really cool American couple who had recently been married (4 months ago). They are on a 10 month trip around the world! Both had city jobs - finance - and they decided to throw it in to spend the first year of their marriage together, travelling. Amazing.
They were so lovely, we spent the entire evening talking about ...everything.
I left feeling so much better and positve.
Again, the contrasts you experience in this country are incredible. Not only in terms of what you see - a policeman beating a rickshaw driver on one side of the road, and a man giving food to a beggar on the other - but also in terms of your emotions.
I have been irate in one moment and so happy the next.
Agra
My hotel room in Agra at the Karmal hotel was good. Actually, it was fabulous - hot water can change the status of any grotty hole!
As I was checking in, I met a girl from Australia called Yirus. I had only planned to spend the night in Agra, when she said she was going to Faterpur Sikri the next day. I wanted some company and was feeling a little sick so decided to spend two nights in Agra and do the day trip with her the following day.
That afternoon, we went to the Agra Fort which is incredible. Again, writing about it won't do it any justice. The entrance is an overwhelming red, Islamic style wall. It is beautiful and so intricately carved. Large red walls that are so beautifully shaped surround the building inside. It is just magnificent, and you can walk around for hours looking at all the detailed carvings on the walls, and trying to imagine what it might have been like all those centuries ago. I was so excited at the view from the fort of the Taj Mahal. It is magificent from a distance...and it made me so excited for my visit!
The next day we took the trip to FS, and I am SO GLAD I stayed to do this.
We had to get the bus there, so Yris and I decided to take a bicycle rickshaw.
Most of the bicycle rickshaw men are old. They wear rag-like jyotis and are very poor. Tired of the relentless auto-rickshaws, we decided to risk a bicycle rickshaw and do some good.
Bad idea.
When we asked the guy to take us to the bus stand, he gladly said "no problem"
40 minutes later, 8 kilometers later we arrived. We didn't realise that the bus stand was so far from everything. But he gladly cycled with us through the traffic, dodging busses, camels, cows, and motorbikes. (I was freaking out because it feels so dangerous).
We felt so guilty that we doubled his initial request for 35 Rps (about 30p). We gave him 70 Rps and he literally jumped for joy, holding our hands and blessing us.
It was such a humbling experience.
We caught the government bus to Faterphur Sikri - which was a good trip and we managed to get on alright. On the bus we met 2 Austrian guys, Carl and Roland who spent the day with us.
FS is an incredible little village. The entrance of the village has a red brick clock tower that is so cute. And then you enter a labyrinth of roads with little stalls lining them. This is what I saw
- kids, running through the street, playing with tires pushing them along the dust road
- most stalls sell vegetables. Cabbages, red carrots, aubergine, beans. These are weighed on an old scale using weights. I question how these people make a profit when almost everyone owns a vegetable store
- I saw a kid selling vegetables, weighing them whilst talking on his mobile phone. Again, everyone has a mobile.
- Camels and cows walk through the tiny lanes
- A feast of colour lines the roads as women wear vibrant saris, and shawls
- kids get so excited at the sight of a camera. I had about 20 kids surround me, and pull on my asking for "photo madam, photo"
The village for me really was a highlight. But most tourists visit to see the fort.
Fatehpur Sikri was built in honor of Sufi saint in 1571 by Mughal emperor Akbar.It's a World Heritage Site and is made up of numerous palaces, halls and masjids.Influences from Hindu and Jaina architecture are seen hand in hand with Islamic elements. It is truly magnificent. Each building is so detailed. It's incredible how they managed to construct this so long ago.
We spent the day going through the buildings and walking through the gardens. The Austrians were great company - they were going by the guide and reading us the detail around each building (something I have stopped doing as you get saturated with all the detail).
After our tour we had a long lunch at one of village restaurants of chicken curry, chapatti, tomato masala, raita...finished off with delicious rice pudding (so good) and chai.
We then spent the rest of the afternoon lying on the grass in the sun, reading. It was wonderful.
Yris and I said goodbye that night after watching an Indian wedding!
There were about 20 weddings in Agra that evening - apparently the stars predict a good wedding season, and we were in the thick of it!
Large marquees are set up with make shift scaffolding and fabric. Lots of lights line the canopy giving the inside a bright but romantic feel. The walls are decorated with bright, colourful fabric. Pinks, yellows, blues, reds....
There is a stage at the front of the marquee with two thrones for the couple. These are decorated too in elaborate metallic designs.
Hundreds and hundreds of people arrive at the wedding and are served a snack of sorts. At one of the weddings they were giving out icecream and kheer (a mushy rice pudding) in ceramic cups. Kids run around excited, girls stand in clusters dancing, men huddle together talking...It's really a celebration.
Suddenly there are drums rolling and people all push towards the entrance of the marquee to await the arrival of the groom. Ornately dressed he arrives on a white horse and is lead to the stage to his wife. There is a lot of singing, almost chanting, drumming, more singing. Both look really nervous as thousands of eyes are set on them.
We were welcomed to the ceremony and spent a bit of time just gawking at how different it is from a western wedding. It's wild!
I left early as I wanted a good rest for the next morning -- my visit to the Taj Mahal.
* * * * * *
The Tāj Mahal is a mausoleum in Agra. It was commissioned by the widowed emperor Shah Jahan for his favourite wife , Mumtaz Mahal. Construction began in 1632 and was complete in 1648.
Just this story alone was enough to make me want to make the journey to Agra to see this great architectural masterpiece.
I woke up before sunrise and took a walk to the East gate. It was a cold, hazy morning so not a lot of people were around.
Walking through the Eastgate to the Taj Mahal was an incredible experience. The had just risen over the surrounding wall, catching the magnificent building in the distance. And what a sight it is! I have seen so many pictures of the Taj but nothing compares to seeing it in real life. It is truly awesome.
The entire building is made from white marble. And at sunrise the marble turns from a greyish colour, to pink, to yellow, to blue and then to white. From a distance it is magnificent but the closer you walk to it, it becomes even more extraordinary. Nearly every surface of the entire complex has been decorated. The detail in the marble work is remarkable. Tiny gem stones create an ornate floral pattern in Persian style. The stones were imported from all over the globe to decorate the building.
I spent hours just walking round the building and really enjoying the time to examine the detail and decoration. It was a wonderful experience. The building is such a great sign of one man's love for his deceased wife. It really moved me.
As I was checking in, I met a girl from Australia called Yirus. I had only planned to spend the night in Agra, when she said she was going to Faterpur Sikri the next day. I wanted some company and was feeling a little sick so decided to spend two nights in Agra and do the day trip with her the following day.
That afternoon, we went to the Agra Fort which is incredible. Again, writing about it won't do it any justice. The entrance is an overwhelming red, Islamic style wall. It is beautiful and so intricately carved. Large red walls that are so beautifully shaped surround the building inside. It is just magnificent, and you can walk around for hours looking at all the detailed carvings on the walls, and trying to imagine what it might have been like all those centuries ago. I was so excited at the view from the fort of the Taj Mahal. It is magificent from a distance...and it made me so excited for my visit!
The next day we took the trip to FS, and I am SO GLAD I stayed to do this.
We had to get the bus there, so Yris and I decided to take a bicycle rickshaw.
Most of the bicycle rickshaw men are old. They wear rag-like jyotis and are very poor. Tired of the relentless auto-rickshaws, we decided to risk a bicycle rickshaw and do some good.
Bad idea.
When we asked the guy to take us to the bus stand, he gladly said "no problem"
40 minutes later, 8 kilometers later we arrived. We didn't realise that the bus stand was so far from everything. But he gladly cycled with us through the traffic, dodging busses, camels, cows, and motorbikes. (I was freaking out because it feels so dangerous).
We felt so guilty that we doubled his initial request for 35 Rps (about 30p). We gave him 70 Rps and he literally jumped for joy, holding our hands and blessing us.
It was such a humbling experience.
We caught the government bus to Faterphur Sikri - which was a good trip and we managed to get on alright. On the bus we met 2 Austrian guys, Carl and Roland who spent the day with us.
FS is an incredible little village. The entrance of the village has a red brick clock tower that is so cute. And then you enter a labyrinth of roads with little stalls lining them. This is what I saw
- kids, running through the street, playing with tires pushing them along the dust road
- most stalls sell vegetables. Cabbages, red carrots, aubergine, beans. These are weighed on an old scale using weights. I question how these people make a profit when almost everyone owns a vegetable store
- I saw a kid selling vegetables, weighing them whilst talking on his mobile phone. Again, everyone has a mobile.
- Camels and cows walk through the tiny lanes
- A feast of colour lines the roads as women wear vibrant saris, and shawls
- kids get so excited at the sight of a camera. I had about 20 kids surround me, and pull on my asking for "photo madam, photo"
The village for me really was a highlight. But most tourists visit to see the fort.
Fatehpur Sikri was built in honor of Sufi saint in 1571 by Mughal emperor Akbar.It's a World Heritage Site and is made up of numerous palaces, halls and masjids.Influences from Hindu and Jaina architecture are seen hand in hand with Islamic elements. It is truly magnificent. Each building is so detailed. It's incredible how they managed to construct this so long ago.
We spent the day going through the buildings and walking through the gardens. The Austrians were great company - they were going by the guide and reading us the detail around each building (something I have stopped doing as you get saturated with all the detail).
After our tour we had a long lunch at one of village restaurants of chicken curry, chapatti, tomato masala, raita...finished off with delicious rice pudding (so good) and chai.
We then spent the rest of the afternoon lying on the grass in the sun, reading. It was wonderful.
Yris and I said goodbye that night after watching an Indian wedding!
There were about 20 weddings in Agra that evening - apparently the stars predict a good wedding season, and we were in the thick of it!
Large marquees are set up with make shift scaffolding and fabric. Lots of lights line the canopy giving the inside a bright but romantic feel. The walls are decorated with bright, colourful fabric. Pinks, yellows, blues, reds....
There is a stage at the front of the marquee with two thrones for the couple. These are decorated too in elaborate metallic designs.
Hundreds and hundreds of people arrive at the wedding and are served a snack of sorts. At one of the weddings they were giving out icecream and kheer (a mushy rice pudding) in ceramic cups. Kids run around excited, girls stand in clusters dancing, men huddle together talking...It's really a celebration.
Suddenly there are drums rolling and people all push towards the entrance of the marquee to await the arrival of the groom. Ornately dressed he arrives on a white horse and is lead to the stage to his wife. There is a lot of singing, almost chanting, drumming, more singing. Both look really nervous as thousands of eyes are set on them.
We were welcomed to the ceremony and spent a bit of time just gawking at how different it is from a western wedding. It's wild!
I left early as I wanted a good rest for the next morning -- my visit to the Taj Mahal.
* * * * * *
The Tāj Mahal is a mausoleum in Agra. It was commissioned by the widowed emperor Shah Jahan for his favourite wife , Mumtaz Mahal. Construction began in 1632 and was complete in 1648.
Just this story alone was enough to make me want to make the journey to Agra to see this great architectural masterpiece.
I woke up before sunrise and took a walk to the East gate. It was a cold, hazy morning so not a lot of people were around.
Walking through the Eastgate to the Taj Mahal was an incredible experience. The had just risen over the surrounding wall, catching the magnificent building in the distance. And what a sight it is! I have seen so many pictures of the Taj but nothing compares to seeing it in real life. It is truly awesome.
The entire building is made from white marble. And at sunrise the marble turns from a greyish colour, to pink, to yellow, to blue and then to white. From a distance it is magnificent but the closer you walk to it, it becomes even more extraordinary. Nearly every surface of the entire complex has been decorated. The detail in the marble work is remarkable. Tiny gem stones create an ornate floral pattern in Persian style. The stones were imported from all over the globe to decorate the building.
I spent hours just walking round the building and really enjoying the time to examine the detail and decoration. It was a wonderful experience. The building is such a great sign of one man's love for his deceased wife. It really moved me.
The plot thickens
The bus from Agra was to leave Delhi at 7.00am.
I woke up at 6am got my stuff together and left Nic's place feeling ready for new experiences. I managed to find an auto rickshaw after about 10 minutes of standing in the freezing cold. It was pitch black still so I decided I would have to go with the guy...even though he couldn't speak a word of English.
When I gave him the scrawled address of the bus stop he didn't have a clue. To be honest, I didn't have a clue either.
It took a while to find the corner of "bla bla bla and Sweets and la la la and Sons in South Extension 1", but we eventually made it after asking numerous people.
Standing at the bus stop at 6.45 and freezing was an experience I would not like to re-live. Of course I was the only single, white female with a backpack waiting which made me nervous for the bus that was to take me to Agra. It was interesting though to observe just how this bus system seems to work. It's something like this:
Bus screams up to the curb with a man hanging out the window.
He yells something in Hindi whilst the driver does some mean clutch control - back, forward, back forward - the bus never stops.
People standing at the stop recognise their call and start running - mothers dragging kids along, people hauling big bags - and just as they get to the bus door, the driver begins to release the tired clutch and pulls off.
The people start jumping on, pushing eachother and pulling eachother to make sure no one misses the bus
And the driver takes off into the chaotic traffic again, swerving into the "go-lane" without any notice of a cow, camel, bike, rickshaw, person that might be in the way. They scramble too.
I also observed some unusual bus etiquette. It's acceptable to brush your teeth on the bus - I am not sure where one spits out the toothpaste, but I saw a couple of men doing so. Also when the bus is in clutch control mode people use this as an opportunity to spit, throw up blow their nore (sans tissue) out of the bus.
Of course this makes me feel a little uneasy. I was execting a simillar situation with my bus.
After waiting for and HOUR in the cold- my hands were blue and I was shaking - a car pulls up and says, "hey sofi, we will take you to the bus." I was a little nervous until I saw the other passenger inthe car. He looked pretty normal, and it all seemed kosher so I got in.
Turns out the other passenger, Rob, was from Leeds! It was GREAT to have some company and such a relief to know someone else had been fooled into this trap! He is Indian, although this is his first time to India. He was told, as I was, that the this would be a day trip visiting the main sites in Agra. He was getting the bus back to Delhi at "10pm"
The car takes both of us to the bus. It was actually fine (thank god!)
After a 4 hour bumpy ride passing fields and villages we arrived in Agra. The bus suddenly stops and the conductor picks a few white tourists and makes them go outside. They leave. Then he comes back and tells the rest that they must make their own way around Agra because the bus is going to a temple for the Indian passengers where they will bath and pray until about midnight. "THe bus will only arrive in Delhi at 3am."
Of course everyone was furious about this and started complaining. There were two Mauritians sitting next to Rob and I - they had paid double what we had paid! The only solution the conductor could offer up was for them to buy another ticket to get back to Delhi on time for their flight out!
I was relieved to be getting off but of course, you can't escape scottfree. I was furious at all this and demanded a free trip to my hotel. The bus conductor obliged and managed to get an auto for me. I grabbed my stuff, said bye to Rob and off we went. Half way to the hotel the rickshaw driver starts telling me he will drive me all over Agra for free. I have been scammed enough to know that nothing here comes for free (and I don't expect it either). I politely told him I would make my own arrangements. Upon hearing this he wanted to charge me for my hotel.
It was a small feat, but I managed to stand my ground and explain that on principle I was not giving him a paise (cent). He told me "Medem, you are very bad. Very bad".
I woke up at 6am got my stuff together and left Nic's place feeling ready for new experiences. I managed to find an auto rickshaw after about 10 minutes of standing in the freezing cold. It was pitch black still so I decided I would have to go with the guy...even though he couldn't speak a word of English.
When I gave him the scrawled address of the bus stop he didn't have a clue. To be honest, I didn't have a clue either.
It took a while to find the corner of "bla bla bla and Sweets and la la la and Sons in South Extension 1", but we eventually made it after asking numerous people.
Standing at the bus stop at 6.45 and freezing was an experience I would not like to re-live. Of course I was the only single, white female with a backpack waiting which made me nervous for the bus that was to take me to Agra. It was interesting though to observe just how this bus system seems to work. It's something like this:
Bus screams up to the curb with a man hanging out the window.
He yells something in Hindi whilst the driver does some mean clutch control - back, forward, back forward - the bus never stops.
People standing at the stop recognise their call and start running - mothers dragging kids along, people hauling big bags - and just as they get to the bus door, the driver begins to release the tired clutch and pulls off.
The people start jumping on, pushing eachother and pulling eachother to make sure no one misses the bus
And the driver takes off into the chaotic traffic again, swerving into the "go-lane" without any notice of a cow, camel, bike, rickshaw, person that might be in the way. They scramble too.
I also observed some unusual bus etiquette. It's acceptable to brush your teeth on the bus - I am not sure where one spits out the toothpaste, but I saw a couple of men doing so. Also when the bus is in clutch control mode people use this as an opportunity to spit, throw up blow their nore (sans tissue) out of the bus.
Of course this makes me feel a little uneasy. I was execting a simillar situation with my bus.
After waiting for and HOUR in the cold- my hands were blue and I was shaking - a car pulls up and says, "hey sofi, we will take you to the bus." I was a little nervous until I saw the other passenger inthe car. He looked pretty normal, and it all seemed kosher so I got in.
Turns out the other passenger, Rob, was from Leeds! It was GREAT to have some company and such a relief to know someone else had been fooled into this trap! He is Indian, although this is his first time to India. He was told, as I was, that the this would be a day trip visiting the main sites in Agra. He was getting the bus back to Delhi at "10pm"
The car takes both of us to the bus. It was actually fine (thank god!)
After a 4 hour bumpy ride passing fields and villages we arrived in Agra. The bus suddenly stops and the conductor picks a few white tourists and makes them go outside. They leave. Then he comes back and tells the rest that they must make their own way around Agra because the bus is going to a temple for the Indian passengers where they will bath and pray until about midnight. "THe bus will only arrive in Delhi at 3am."
Of course everyone was furious about this and started complaining. There were two Mauritians sitting next to Rob and I - they had paid double what we had paid! The only solution the conductor could offer up was for them to buy another ticket to get back to Delhi on time for their flight out!
I was relieved to be getting off but of course, you can't escape scottfree. I was furious at all this and demanded a free trip to my hotel. The bus conductor obliged and managed to get an auto for me. I grabbed my stuff, said bye to Rob and off we went. Half way to the hotel the rickshaw driver starts telling me he will drive me all over Agra for free. I have been scammed enough to know that nothing here comes for free (and I don't expect it either). I politely told him I would make my own arrangements. Upon hearing this he wanted to charge me for my hotel.
It was a small feat, but I managed to stand my ground and explain that on principle I was not giving him a paise (cent). He told me "Medem, you are very bad. Very bad".
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Sucker
I had a bad day today.
It's a pity because I woke up still feeling excited after the pre-wedding party we all managed to get invited to last night (I will write about this once this bad feeling has passed).
I got up early with the intention to make one purchase which was to be a train ticket from Delhi to Agra tomorrow. Simple.
I got to the New Delhi Station. First thing I witnessed in the chaotic traffic was a policeman beating a rickshaw driver for getting in his way. It was aweful and shook me up.
I then made my way to the station entrance and was physically pushed out and told "you need a ticket to go inside". Of course this was a complete lie as everyone around me (indian) was freely walking in and out as they pleased, no ticket required. This man would not let me pass him and was getting quite aggressive so I left. And just as I turned around someone was there to "guide" me to the "real" Indian Travel Assoc.
Great.
The alarm bells should have triggered when the auto-rickshaw guy only charged 10 Rps - unheard of.
I get to the Tourist office and am shoved into an office with a travel "executive". He then spends the next 1 hour trying to convince me to hire a driver and a car to drive me around for the next 2 weeks for 800 US. I was so close to paying the money, but something said, "leave". And thank goodness I did.
I then went into another "accredited" tourise office (2 hours later) where EXACTLY the same thing happened. The salesman was a little more cunning and started with the truth. He told me I had been had at the train station (which was true).....but then he started telling me the car story again even after I has said what I wanted.
I nearly bought into this.
Eventually after a further 1.5 hours I said, "look, I JUST WANT A TICKET. A TRAIN TICKET TO GET ME FROM DELHI TO AGRA." He took about 40 minutes going through all my "options" none of which seemed bona fide as they all arrive in Agra at midnight (not an option for a single gal in India)....and then EVENTUALLY he found the ticket I had ORIGINALLY asked for. And do you think I could buy it?
No. Of course not because "medem (madam) we is only making the purchases of the tickets on Sundays before the time is showing 2 o'clock. Now the time it is showing ten minutes to 2 o'clock so it is too late for the purchases of the train tickets. You cannot get that ticket. But medem really the best ways for your travels is by car and driver....."
And I am a sucker. No, I didn't buy the car/driver story (which can be good if you go through the right connections and can share costs with a friend). I was so desparate to get the ball rolling I bought a BUS ticket (yes, another damn bus) that does a "tour" around Agra. I paid 3 x more than what it should cost.
My plan is to just get on that bus and as soon as we get to Agra (which is only in the afternoon -- after we leave at SEVEN AM!) - I am going to the hotel I booked to sort out the rest of this travel malarky.
It's a long ordeal. I am tired and upset. It was a lot more complicated than words can explain. It was aweful. And so easy to fall deeper and deeper.
And to top this all off, I get the bus ticket and then go with the guy to his "very good friend's Kashmiri shop"......and bought a shawl.
SUCKER.
It's a pity because I woke up still feeling excited after the pre-wedding party we all managed to get invited to last night (I will write about this once this bad feeling has passed).
I got up early with the intention to make one purchase which was to be a train ticket from Delhi to Agra tomorrow. Simple.
I got to the New Delhi Station. First thing I witnessed in the chaotic traffic was a policeman beating a rickshaw driver for getting in his way. It was aweful and shook me up.
I then made my way to the station entrance and was physically pushed out and told "you need a ticket to go inside". Of course this was a complete lie as everyone around me (indian) was freely walking in and out as they pleased, no ticket required. This man would not let me pass him and was getting quite aggressive so I left. And just as I turned around someone was there to "guide" me to the "real" Indian Travel Assoc.
Great.
The alarm bells should have triggered when the auto-rickshaw guy only charged 10 Rps - unheard of.
I get to the Tourist office and am shoved into an office with a travel "executive". He then spends the next 1 hour trying to convince me to hire a driver and a car to drive me around for the next 2 weeks for 800 US. I was so close to paying the money, but something said, "leave". And thank goodness I did.
I then went into another "accredited" tourise office (2 hours later) where EXACTLY the same thing happened. The salesman was a little more cunning and started with the truth. He told me I had been had at the train station (which was true).....but then he started telling me the car story again even after I has said what I wanted.
I nearly bought into this.
Eventually after a further 1.5 hours I said, "look, I JUST WANT A TICKET. A TRAIN TICKET TO GET ME FROM DELHI TO AGRA." He took about 40 minutes going through all my "options" none of which seemed bona fide as they all arrive in Agra at midnight (not an option for a single gal in India)....and then EVENTUALLY he found the ticket I had ORIGINALLY asked for. And do you think I could buy it?
No. Of course not because "medem (madam) we is only making the purchases of the tickets on Sundays before the time is showing 2 o'clock. Now the time it is showing ten minutes to 2 o'clock so it is too late for the purchases of the train tickets. You cannot get that ticket. But medem really the best ways for your travels is by car and driver....."
And I am a sucker. No, I didn't buy the car/driver story (which can be good if you go through the right connections and can share costs with a friend). I was so desparate to get the ball rolling I bought a BUS ticket (yes, another damn bus) that does a "tour" around Agra. I paid 3 x more than what it should cost.
My plan is to just get on that bus and as soon as we get to Agra (which is only in the afternoon -- after we leave at SEVEN AM!) - I am going to the hotel I booked to sort out the rest of this travel malarky.
It's a long ordeal. I am tired and upset. It was a lot more complicated than words can explain. It was aweful. And so easy to fall deeper and deeper.
And to top this all off, I get the bus ticket and then go with the guy to his "very good friend's Kashmiri shop"......and bought a shawl.
SUCKER.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Dilli Delhi
Flying from Goa to Delhi was easier than any bus or train I have taken so far. The view from the air is is magnificent as the plane approaches Asia's largest city. In the dark night a carpet of twinkling lights stretch on for miles. It is really quite stunning.
And then cold.
That's the first thing I noticed when I got off the plane from warm Goa to freezing Delhi.
I arrived at the airport at 11pm and took a cab to GK Enclave 1, where Nic lives. Nic is my friend Libby's brother. He kindly offered to let me stay at his beautiful appartment for a few days. And it has been such a treat.
The apt is based in Delhi's "green belt" - read: scantly tree lined streets
It is on the top floor and has an large deck that gives you a good view of the bustling city below. Nic has tastefully decorated each room. In his lounge is a beautifully carved, thick wooden frame with nothing in it at the moment bar a couple of paragraphs/prose written by friends that have been cut out and stuck down. He is planning to fill the frame with pieces of people's writing over the next few years. A wonderful idea that will be so engaging once it gets some stuff into it. (I wonder what my contribution will be!)
Nic has the luxury of a house-helper called Raj. On my first morning in Delhi, I woke up to freshly cut fruit, warm toast and jam, a mug of delicious tea and the sound of Nic "Om-ing" after his Yoga lesson.
I took day 1 pretty easy. My mission was to find some warm clothing as I came so unprepared for winter. (erm, why I didn't believe that it really would be winter is a mystery - I suspect I had a severe case of denial). Fashion in Delhi ranges from really cheap cuts and fabrics to the most exclusive garments money can buy. I managed to get a simple black jumper after looking for about 4 hours. I guess me being fussy didn't help.
We went out for dinner that evening with some of Nics expat friends to a restaurant in the Defense Colony called Sagar. We ordered some delicious idly in curd for starters (fermented rice pies - so good) and then tucked into a veg Thali (still not as good as the Mango Tree in Hampi!).
Nic's friends are so interesting. Most of them are humanitarians with a strong cause! Listening to their stories makes me question what I do for a living. But as one of them very rightly pointed out, there is a need for a balance between the corporate world of business and humanitarian NGO's. Both can learn from one another (but do they?)....
After dinner we headed to a bar down the road from the restuarant. I am still not drinking alcohol - been 2 weeks today - so I just had another lime soda. The bar war really funky. A lounge rather than a bar. I was surprised to see that a glass of wine costs the same amount as it does in Londres. Actually Delhi is so much more expensive than anywhere else I have been by a longshot. To give you an idea, I was paying about 20 to 100 Rps for a main elsewhere. Mains here are above 150Rps.
This morning I woke up to tea in bed! I was quite surprised that Raj had brought it in. Living in London has made me forget the joys of house-help...reminds me of living in South Africa. Actually, Raj asked if I had some laundry. So I gave him some of my dirty clothes (those I didn't manage to handwash in a bucket in Goa). I felt so guilty when he told me that the washing machine is broken so he had to hand-wash all my stuff. But he was so willing to do it....I think Nic has done quite a lot for him, so I guess it works both ways. The two of them get on really well.
So I spent most of the day in Old Delhi. It is incredible. I started at the Red Fort, which is definately one of the most beautiful buildings I have ever seen. It gets its name from red stone 2.5km outer wall. The wall is about 16 meters high and is punctuated with islamic style turrets. The main entrance, Lahore Gate, opens onto a market called the Chatta Chowk. This then leads onto the many buildings within the walls of the fort. These are also magnificent. Some made of pearl, and precious stone (most of which no longer exists). It is fascinating.
As you exit the Lahore gate and walk forward you get onto the pandemonium which is the current Chatta Chowk market. It is insane. Picture a million people either on foot, in a tuk-tuk, on a bicycle rickshaw, in a car, on a horse, mixed with cows, horses, rams (!??!) on a maze of narrow roads lined with market stalls and delapitated buildings. It is overcrowded and BUSTLING...there is such an energy that wizzes through each little alley and road. You could get so lost in all of it. The stalls all sell incredible jewellry, silver, gems, fabrics, food, and of course a lot of tat. I managed to navigate through the chaos for a couple of hours - spent most of the time just watching the people live a "normal" day and then made my way to Karims, a popular restaurant amidst the maddness.
I sat down (alone) for a chicken curry and piping hot roti. Delicious. Of course I wasn't alone, as I never seem to be in this country. I had some young guys ask me the usual - which country, and do I find the food hot etc etc. They were local students visiting their favourite restuarant.
The food was good - but very oily!
After Karims I headed to the Jama Masjid (picture) which was completed in 1656. If you saw it, you would be amazed at how incredible this is. I was stunned at its beauty. It is the most famous mosque in India. And althought the courtyward holds 25,000 people, there is definately a sense of peace within the building. It feels calm.
After walking around Old Delhi for a bit longer I headed to the M Block market. Heaven for shopping! I have bought myself the most gorgeous mesh silver necklace and earings. Such a treat, but it was too beautiful to let go!
Nic and I are in tonite. We are taking it easy. Tomorrow nite we are going out with some friends of his visiting from SOuth Africa, and with some local expats. Should be good. I am going to meet up with Lebu - connected with her through Carol (thanks!). I look forward to a bit of a party!
Tired now, must go sleep off the city.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
G G G G G GOAAAA
I left Hampi feeling "Shanti".
I must have looked "shanti" too becuase I had 3 locals passed me and say, "hey, you! you look shanti, na?"
The hawker at the bus stand actually gave me a free present - a box of Wrigley's - because I was so "Shanti".
Shanti means peace. I guess that's the affect Hampi had on me.
Shanti-me.
BUT there is nothing like an Indian bus ride to Shanti-the-hell-out of you.
I never dreamed a ride like that could be possible in this century.
I boarded the "luxury coach" half an hour later than scheduled. Of course the bus or the seats looked Nothing like the images the travel agent proudly showed me before I paid-up.
I had specifically requested a single recliner. I was not up for sleeping next to some stranger.
So the guy points to my seat for the next 10 hours. It's about 30cm - my bum just made it - and it is literally in the middle of everyone and everything. Yes, everyone else was sharing. I was the ONLY single person on the ONLY single seat in the middle of the bus. And I mean the MIDDLE.
The bus took off and everyone put their seats down. I tried to do the same but the seat kept bouncing up. Push down, bounce back, push down, bounce back. Kick down, punch, jump on it - it stays down. Good. I was ready for a sleep. I had prepared. The eye-mask, the ear plugs, ipod and clean sarong to sleep on. But as the bus took off, I realised that sleeping was not an option.
The roads are so bad and the bus is so old that you literally bounce off your seat at every bump. I am not kidding. I was laughing out loud most of the way...crying with laughter at the situation. It's hysterical. You can't get angry it's just so funny. At every bump the whole bus shouts "woaaaahhhhh" and people scramble back onto the "beds" they have fallen off. It's so funny.
10 hours of that and I finally arrived in Mapusa (pronounced "mapsa") with a sore ass. Actually since I've been here my hip bones have been bruised from sleeping on hard beds or on bouncy busses.
I met an Israeli guy who got out with me. He was really chilled out and taught me a lesson that I will carry with me for the rest of my trip. WAIT. Just get off the bus, sit down and WAIT. Don't rush. Get a cup of tea, maybe another, look around and HANG BACK.
In doing this, we met another woman - a wonderful Aussie called Jenni King (who I will meet up with for sure in Sydney).
This lesson in waiting does you two favours
1. It allows you to get your head together - something you really need to do in this country
2. It gives you bargaining power - It allows you to get the best price to your destination. Weird, I know, but this is India
Up to now I've been rushing off the bus/train and getting the first cab I can find. I have been ripped off.
That morning, instead of paying 400Rps to get to Anjuna (I didn't go to Arambol in the end) I spent 8Rps. And 400Rps is a night's accom, maybe a new top, or something. So yay!
Anjuna was nice. Not the best beach ever but nice. I was on the quiet side in a decent little room that was so cheap 200Rps, but nice. The other side is Trance City. In fact, Jenny and I (we hooked up for the day and nite before she head off) popped into a trance party and had a boogie and - er... left shortly. The music was good but the people - everyone was completely off their face and they all looked a little dodgy. I saw such young girls who looked so lost and it really made me sad. Not my vibe.
We spent most of the afternoon chilling and just observing. I saw this left over hippie guy, dressed in a loose - cotton G-string (BEAUTIFUL???!!!) walk up and down the beach gathering artifacts. His motions were slow and heavy. After gathering an object, he would put the bigger objects on the bottom and built up with the smaller objects. He spent about 2 hours doing this. It was interesting to watch.
I left Anjuna after a couple of days and am now in Panjim. A sweet little city in Goa that reminds me, for some reason, of Durban. I've been walking around today...found a nice wedding gift for C&P and C&P which I might get. Also tasted the most delicious "sweet meat" ever. It's this shortbread -like cake but its made with milk and it's moist. So good.
I leave for Delhi tomorrow. Really excited. Looking forward to meeting with Nic - whom I have not seen in about 12 years and don't really know! But I am keen for a good chat, and am so looking forward to hearing about his experience of LIVING in Delhi. Wow. Also look forward to a warm shower!
I must have looked "shanti" too becuase I had 3 locals passed me and say, "hey, you! you look shanti, na?"
The hawker at the bus stand actually gave me a free present - a box of Wrigley's - because I was so "Shanti".
Shanti means peace. I guess that's the affect Hampi had on me.
Shanti-me.
BUT there is nothing like an Indian bus ride to Shanti-the-hell-out of you.
I never dreamed a ride like that could be possible in this century.
I boarded the "luxury coach" half an hour later than scheduled. Of course the bus or the seats looked Nothing like the images the travel agent proudly showed me before I paid-up.
I had specifically requested a single recliner. I was not up for sleeping next to some stranger.
So the guy points to my seat for the next 10 hours. It's about 30cm - my bum just made it - and it is literally in the middle of everyone and everything. Yes, everyone else was sharing. I was the ONLY single person on the ONLY single seat in the middle of the bus. And I mean the MIDDLE.
The bus took off and everyone put their seats down. I tried to do the same but the seat kept bouncing up. Push down, bounce back, push down, bounce back. Kick down, punch, jump on it - it stays down. Good. I was ready for a sleep. I had prepared. The eye-mask, the ear plugs, ipod and clean sarong to sleep on. But as the bus took off, I realised that sleeping was not an option.
The roads are so bad and the bus is so old that you literally bounce off your seat at every bump. I am not kidding. I was laughing out loud most of the way...crying with laughter at the situation. It's hysterical. You can't get angry it's just so funny. At every bump the whole bus shouts "woaaaahhhhh" and people scramble back onto the "beds" they have fallen off. It's so funny.
10 hours of that and I finally arrived in Mapusa (pronounced "mapsa") with a sore ass. Actually since I've been here my hip bones have been bruised from sleeping on hard beds or on bouncy busses.
I met an Israeli guy who got out with me. He was really chilled out and taught me a lesson that I will carry with me for the rest of my trip. WAIT. Just get off the bus, sit down and WAIT. Don't rush. Get a cup of tea, maybe another, look around and HANG BACK.
In doing this, we met another woman - a wonderful Aussie called Jenni King (who I will meet up with for sure in Sydney).
This lesson in waiting does you two favours
1. It allows you to get your head together - something you really need to do in this country
2. It gives you bargaining power - It allows you to get the best price to your destination. Weird, I know, but this is India
Up to now I've been rushing off the bus/train and getting the first cab I can find. I have been ripped off.
That morning, instead of paying 400Rps to get to Anjuna (I didn't go to Arambol in the end) I spent 8Rps. And 400Rps is a night's accom, maybe a new top, or something. So yay!
Anjuna was nice. Not the best beach ever but nice. I was on the quiet side in a decent little room that was so cheap 200Rps, but nice. The other side is Trance City. In fact, Jenny and I (we hooked up for the day and nite before she head off) popped into a trance party and had a boogie and - er... left shortly. The music was good but the people - everyone was completely off their face and they all looked a little dodgy. I saw such young girls who looked so lost and it really made me sad. Not my vibe.
We spent most of the afternoon chilling and just observing. I saw this left over hippie guy, dressed in a loose - cotton G-string (BEAUTIFUL???!!!) walk up and down the beach gathering artifacts. His motions were slow and heavy. After gathering an object, he would put the bigger objects on the bottom and built up with the smaller objects. He spent about 2 hours doing this. It was interesting to watch.
I left Anjuna after a couple of days and am now in Panjim. A sweet little city in Goa that reminds me, for some reason, of Durban. I've been walking around today...found a nice wedding gift for C&P and C&P which I might get. Also tasted the most delicious "sweet meat" ever. It's this shortbread -like cake but its made with milk and it's moist. So good.
I leave for Delhi tomorrow. Really excited. Looking forward to meeting with Nic - whom I have not seen in about 12 years and don't really know! But I am keen for a good chat, and am so looking forward to hearing about his experience of LIVING in Delhi. Wow. Also look forward to a warm shower!
Friday, January 12, 2007
Enlightened
I had dinner in Bangalore at a local place on Church road. There were two guys sitting next to me, and we got chatting. They were young professionals, about 35 or so. It was really interesting talking to them about India and where it's going. Every paper or magazine I've picked up since I've been here talks of the booming economy and India's growth. The guys were telling me about the growth they've witnessed in Bangalore over the past few years and how succesful their business has become. I was saying how much I loved Bangalore (compared to Mumbai) and I felt it was a really progressive city. It is. It feels really modern and people feel a lot more open minded (read: no gawking). Some people I've spoken to say this is a bad thing as Bangalore is adopting a Western attitude. This is really apparent in the shopping mall, the clothes people wear, the swanky lounges and coffee shops a la Starbucks. I also saw quite a few young indian women smoking - a big no no in India. It was good to share my experience and have these guys confirm what I'd seen. They felt really positive about the direction Bangalore is moving in.
In the end, "as a guest in their country" they paid for my dinner - which was really kind.
The train ride from Bangalore to Hospet was a 10 hour over night train. I travelled in 2nd A/C -which is the more "luxurious" route to take. It wasn't bad at all. You're in a compartment with 4 others and you get a bunk bed . You also get clean sheets and a blanket. It's very comfortable. The people in my compartment were really chatty. They spoke about the burgeoning economy too...and about how a lot of young Indians now travel to the the UK, US to get experience. They also spoke of the many Indians who are now returning to India having immigrated. They too want a part of the boom. One of the men had worked and studies in the US. He said he felt Bangalore was "becoming like any Western city. The youth in Bangalore are like the Americans; they work hard and then the like to enjoy life. Not like the rest of India - where Indians work hard and continue to
suffer. Not in Bangalore." They were also very interested to understand why, as a woman, I would want to travel alone. One man said, "in life you must always be in a group. You must never be alone." Ho hum. Especially since that was my first night alone.
It's a contrast.
Whilst these Bangalorians really are progressive and open minded, their culture is still engrained. Women should not be alone.
Arrived in Hospet at about 7am the next morning. I had slept pretty well on the train.
From Hospet I took an auto rickshaw to Hampi - 150INR. Not that much when you convert BUT when I heard that there is the alternative local bus which costs 7INR I was pretty pissed off. Even though I had asked, no-one would tell me the truth. I am beginning to get a bit frustrated with the way things are costed for here. The thing is, they aren't. They way you look determines the price you pay. The way you talk determines the price you pay. There is no fixed price. I still feel guilty bargaining and haggling. Not a good combo.
The drive from Hospet to Hampi is only 30 minutes. But in those 30 minutes, there were some pretty incredible images captured in my mind.
The baby hanging onto a small tree being washed by it's mother
The cows heaving loads of banana's and sugar cane, frothing at the mouth
The litter scattered on the road
The young boy "making his toilet" into the river
The old man stoking the fire to make his chai
The young kids walking to school - none of them wearing shoes
The man waking up from his sleep - his bed on the side of the road, just a blanket covered with a sheet
The landscape turning into boulders as you drive into Hampi
The buzz and atmostphere of the Hampi Bazar
My first glimpse of the Virupakshna Temple and my excitement as we drove past of it into Hampi
The overwhelming feeling that this place would make an impression on me.
The landscape is made of fields of boulders. The surrounding area is scattered with remenants of 14th century temples, ruins and statues - most are intact. To think that an entire empire was settled here so many years ago is incredible. The size of the temples and statues are so great it's a miracle how they were built.
The auto rickshaw took me to The Gopi Guest house. I dropped my bags, arranged a room for 300INR a night and went upstairs to the rooftop restaurant overlooking the temple for some porridge and chai.
Within seconds I was talking to Keiran who runs Gopi. He basically adopted me from the minute I sat down. He has studied archeology and started giving me a bit of a history lesson on Hampi and the temple. He then invited me to go with him check it out. He took me through the history of the temple, and explained every stone, sculpture, crevice. He also introduced me to Lakshmi -the temple's elephant and got her to take a 1rupee coin from his hand( I was too scared). I got to experience giving up a puja - or blessing to the gods. Most tourists are not allowed in to do this, but Keiran managed to get me through. The ritual bears some simillarities to Catholic communion. You go up to the "priest" and he gives you a spoon of rose water. You drink half and pour the other half over your head. You offer up a tithing - maybe 1 or 2 rupees and some coconut, a lotus flower. He then he gives you his blessing with a bindi made of red or yellow dye. During all of this there is chanting of matras, placing your head of the floor to relieve you of your sins and lots of incense burning. It leaves you feeling calm and peaceful.
We then explored more of the temple and he showed me this tunnel where he meditates infront of a Ganesha statue. There are monkeys all over the temple, roaming freely. No one bothers them and they seem oblivious to the humans walking around.
I spent the rest of that afternoon just chilling out.....That evening I went out for dinner with a couple from Canada and a German and American guy who had explored the ruins that day. They took us to this restaurant called the Mango tree. After a 20 minute walk through a banana plantation in pitch black you arrive. It is in an amazing setting alone the bank of the river. The tables are low - the seating is the floor with slanted concrete backrests so very comfortable. The background music is basically an orchestra of croaking frogs and crickets. It is so stunning. We gorged on Vegetarian Thali and poori, which was the best I have had so far! It was good to have some company that evening.
I spent the next day on a bicycle which I had hired riding around the ruins.Wow. Each temple or ruin has a different feel about it. A lot of them are still in tact. Most of the walls have the most intricate carvings - and there are lots of them. I took heaps of photographs, which I will post when I work out how to resize all of 1000 pics! After 7 hours of going up and down hills and walking through the ruins I was completely knackered and managed to settle next to a river for a cup of chai.
That evening I went back to the Mango tree for more Thali with some rather irritating Swedish students. They had met up with a local and invited him to dinner. I was thrilled at the prospect of sharing our experiences with him and getting his opinion. Ordering food was really painful as they were both Vegans and eat Satva (i.e no onion, garlic, spices, salt, sugar, mushrooms - i.e hellloooo - whydidyoucometoindiathen?) The students then spoke about the cost of stuff in India, how to haggle and "get them down", how "they cheat you" the entire evening. I was so embarrased, I left early.
Woke up at 5.30 the next morning to watch the sunrise. Keiran had offered to take me up to the top of this rocky mountain. That was pretty amazing. We then went into a cave and then did a lot of rock climing. Famished, we got some food from a local store - an indian breakfast of Idley (sp?) and chilli sauce. Delicious.
In the afternoon we went to his banana plantation and he showed me where he is building his house and a village school. He has been working with a couple of Brits who are helping him out. I am going to see if I can get involved in some way.
After some refreshing coconut milk we went for a boat ride a coral. It's a round boat made of bamboo and animal hide. I was a little scared as we'd seen a crocodile before we got in. But the guy who was with us actually SWAM to get the boat before we got in. I was horrified.
More rock climing and then watched the sunset. Again. Magnificent.
You cannot explain Hampi by writing it down. This little description does it no justice. It's a feeling you have to experience.
I don't think I would have looked at the Temple or any of the ruins or any of Hampi had I not met Keiran. I had planned to spend 2 nights in Hampi, but landed up spending 5. We connected the minute he sat down at breakfast on day 1. He is the most generous, open and honest person I have met in India. He has invited me (and all my friends) to come back to Hampi. He is really knowledgable and you can tell he just loves where he comes from and wants to share his love with everyone he meets. When I thanked him after saying goodbye he said to me, "don't thank me. Just make sure you change the lives of 3 people by helping them - that can be your thanks."
I was very sad to say goodbye. But it's time to move on. Next stop Goa - Arambol for last bit of sand and sea in India.
And then it's up to Delhi.
In the end, "as a guest in their country" they paid for my dinner - which was really kind.
The train ride from Bangalore to Hospet was a 10 hour over night train. I travelled in 2nd A/C -which is the more "luxurious" route to take. It wasn't bad at all. You're in a compartment with 4 others and you get a bunk bed . You also get clean sheets and a blanket. It's very comfortable. The people in my compartment were really chatty. They spoke about the burgeoning economy too...and about how a lot of young Indians now travel to the the UK, US to get experience. They also spoke of the many Indians who are now returning to India having immigrated. They too want a part of the boom. One of the men had worked and studies in the US. He said he felt Bangalore was "becoming like any Western city. The youth in Bangalore are like the Americans; they work hard and then the like to enjoy life. Not like the rest of India - where Indians work hard and continue to
suffer. Not in Bangalore." They were also very interested to understand why, as a woman, I would want to travel alone. One man said, "in life you must always be in a group. You must never be alone." Ho hum. Especially since that was my first night alone.
It's a contrast.
Whilst these Bangalorians really are progressive and open minded, their culture is still engrained. Women should not be alone.
Arrived in Hospet at about 7am the next morning. I had slept pretty well on the train.
From Hospet I took an auto rickshaw to Hampi - 150INR. Not that much when you convert BUT when I heard that there is the alternative local bus which costs 7INR I was pretty pissed off. Even though I had asked, no-one would tell me the truth. I am beginning to get a bit frustrated with the way things are costed for here. The thing is, they aren't. They way you look determines the price you pay. The way you talk determines the price you pay. There is no fixed price. I still feel guilty bargaining and haggling. Not a good combo.
The drive from Hospet to Hampi is only 30 minutes. But in those 30 minutes, there were some pretty incredible images captured in my mind.
The baby hanging onto a small tree being washed by it's mother
The cows heaving loads of banana's and sugar cane, frothing at the mouth
The litter scattered on the road
The young boy "making his toilet" into the river
The old man stoking the fire to make his chai
The young kids walking to school - none of them wearing shoes
The man waking up from his sleep - his bed on the side of the road, just a blanket covered with a sheet
The landscape turning into boulders as you drive into Hampi
The buzz and atmostphere of the Hampi Bazar
My first glimpse of the Virupakshna Temple and my excitement as we drove past of it into Hampi
The overwhelming feeling that this place would make an impression on me.
The landscape is made of fields of boulders. The surrounding area is scattered with remenants of 14th century temples, ruins and statues - most are intact. To think that an entire empire was settled here so many years ago is incredible. The size of the temples and statues are so great it's a miracle how they were built.
The auto rickshaw took me to The Gopi Guest house. I dropped my bags, arranged a room for 300INR a night and went upstairs to the rooftop restaurant overlooking the temple for some porridge and chai.
Within seconds I was talking to Keiran who runs Gopi. He basically adopted me from the minute I sat down. He has studied archeology and started giving me a bit of a history lesson on Hampi and the temple. He then invited me to go with him check it out. He took me through the history of the temple, and explained every stone, sculpture, crevice. He also introduced me to Lakshmi -the temple's elephant and got her to take a 1rupee coin from his hand( I was too scared). I got to experience giving up a puja - or blessing to the gods. Most tourists are not allowed in to do this, but Keiran managed to get me through. The ritual bears some simillarities to Catholic communion. You go up to the "priest" and he gives you a spoon of rose water. You drink half and pour the other half over your head. You offer up a tithing - maybe 1 or 2 rupees and some coconut, a lotus flower. He then he gives you his blessing with a bindi made of red or yellow dye. During all of this there is chanting of matras, placing your head of the floor to relieve you of your sins and lots of incense burning. It leaves you feeling calm and peaceful.
We then explored more of the temple and he showed me this tunnel where he meditates infront of a Ganesha statue. There are monkeys all over the temple, roaming freely. No one bothers them and they seem oblivious to the humans walking around.
I spent the rest of that afternoon just chilling out.....That evening I went out for dinner with a couple from Canada and a German and American guy who had explored the ruins that day. They took us to this restaurant called the Mango tree. After a 20 minute walk through a banana plantation in pitch black you arrive. It is in an amazing setting alone the bank of the river. The tables are low - the seating is the floor with slanted concrete backrests so very comfortable. The background music is basically an orchestra of croaking frogs and crickets. It is so stunning. We gorged on Vegetarian Thali and poori, which was the best I have had so far! It was good to have some company that evening.
I spent the next day on a bicycle which I had hired riding around the ruins.Wow. Each temple or ruin has a different feel about it. A lot of them are still in tact. Most of the walls have the most intricate carvings - and there are lots of them. I took heaps of photographs, which I will post when I work out how to resize all of 1000 pics! After 7 hours of going up and down hills and walking through the ruins I was completely knackered and managed to settle next to a river for a cup of chai.
That evening I went back to the Mango tree for more Thali with some rather irritating Swedish students. They had met up with a local and invited him to dinner. I was thrilled at the prospect of sharing our experiences with him and getting his opinion. Ordering food was really painful as they were both Vegans and eat Satva (i.e no onion, garlic, spices, salt, sugar, mushrooms - i.e hellloooo - whydidyoucometoindiathen?) The students then spoke about the cost of stuff in India, how to haggle and "get them down", how "they cheat you" the entire evening. I was so embarrased, I left early.
Woke up at 5.30 the next morning to watch the sunrise. Keiran had offered to take me up to the top of this rocky mountain. That was pretty amazing. We then went into a cave and then did a lot of rock climing. Famished, we got some food from a local store - an indian breakfast of Idley (sp?) and chilli sauce. Delicious.
In the afternoon we went to his banana plantation and he showed me where he is building his house and a village school. He has been working with a couple of Brits who are helping him out. I am going to see if I can get involved in some way.
After some refreshing coconut milk we went for a boat ride a coral. It's a round boat made of bamboo and animal hide. I was a little scared as we'd seen a crocodile before we got in. But the guy who was with us actually SWAM to get the boat before we got in. I was horrified.
More rock climing and then watched the sunset. Again. Magnificent.
You cannot explain Hampi by writing it down. This little description does it no justice. It's a feeling you have to experience.
I don't think I would have looked at the Temple or any of the ruins or any of Hampi had I not met Keiran. I had planned to spend 2 nights in Hampi, but landed up spending 5. We connected the minute he sat down at breakfast on day 1. He is the most generous, open and honest person I have met in India. He has invited me (and all my friends) to come back to Hampi. He is really knowledgable and you can tell he just loves where he comes from and wants to share his love with everyone he meets. When I thanked him after saying goodbye he said to me, "don't thank me. Just make sure you change the lives of 3 people by helping them - that can be your thanks."
I was very sad to say goodbye. But it's time to move on. Next stop Goa - Arambol for last bit of sand and sea in India.
And then it's up to Delhi.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Waswo X. Waswo & Bangalore
Fort Cochin is a charming and lovely - a far cry from the main city Eranakulum, where Julia and I were based.
Once an obscure fishing village, it is now a popular little town. A mixture of old Portuguese, Dutch and British houses from these colonial periods line the streets as do loads of gorgeous little boutiques. The town really has a nice feel about it.
One of the highlights - besides having our first Western meal since we arrived (a salad - hoorah!), was stumbling upon the Kashi Arts Cafe. A photographer called Richard - working name Waswo X. Waswo, was exhibiting his sepia portraits which I found really moving. We had a chat with him about his approach to his subjects - i.e do they pose, does he build a relationship first? etc. One of the most intriguing photographs was of this old woman who stares out at the viewer with such intensity. Her face is covered in sun-lines, and each wrinkle seems to tell a story. Waso told us that he had spent 3 days with this woman - a chai maker in Udaipur. He observed her and spoke with her. She eventually agreed to let him photograph her. When you look at her eyes, it looks like she is kind of saying "I trust you" to him. It's wierd.
* * *
Julia left yesterday. I had a little cry on the way to my shabby hotel round the corner to the airport. I am really going to miss her company...it was so special to start this journey with her. (julia if you ever get round to reading this, THANK YOU rockin' chic).
Lucky for me, I had Boney Joseph, my taxi driver to comfort me. He made sure that the hotel I had booked into alone was safe. He told the receptionist to make sure I was fed and had enough water. He also gave me his number in case of an emergency. Then at about 8pm he called to check if I was alright. I was fine. Although all HIS fussing made me a little nervous last night so I didn't sleep.
This morning I was up at 5.45 to be at the airport by 6am. My flight to Bangalore arrived this morning at 8.30am.
Another aweful auto-rickshaw ride to the train station where I left my bags in "left luggage". Godknows how the poor bag person will find it tonite. There were about 1000 bags in there when I left. Each bag marked with a chalk number. Hey, doesn't chalk rub out?
I have spent the day taking it easy. Read: shopping.
Yip, I broke down today and needed to do something familliar. I went into this awesome Indian craft store and bought the most beautiful silk kaftan - which I have promised myself I will wear. I also bought a pair of shiney blue trousers - they sound garish, but they are pretty cool. oh, and a pair of indian slippers. Big splash out and treat....but what the heck.
My train leaves for Hospet this evening at 10.30pm and I arrive tomorrow at 7am.
Backwaters in Allepy
One of the highlights of the trip was the backwaters at Allepy.
Julia and I managed to hire a houseboat at the last minute - really lucky because at this time of year the prices are typically doubled or trippled. We got a good deal though and an OK boat!
We boarded the boat at 11am. The boats are beautiful. They are made from bamboo and palm tree leaves. You can get really luxurious boats that accomodate large families or you can get simple, one bedroom boats. We had a boat of the simple kind. A cute deck with a dining cum lounge area, a bedroom and bathroom and a kitchen.
On board we had a cook, an engine expert, and a "captain". At first we felt a little awkward being waited on but we kind of got used to it.
The cook made us the most delicious meals we had had since we arrived. It was great.
The backwaters are said to be the "Venice of India". Your boat sails through large areas and then down narrow canals. These are lined with rice paddies and palm trees which give the whole experience an exotic feel. It's also very quite - bar the one luxury boat that was pumping some hindi house music! As you cruise down backwaters you pass little villages. You can see women doing their laundry in the river or washing up the dinner plates, children playing or washing in the water, families travelling from their home to somewhere else in a little canoe. It is really interesting, although at times it does feel a little obtrusive.
In the evening we moored and were fed (again). We had a few locals pass us and stare. Which increases the guilt factor...especially when the little kids ask for "a pen madam". It's really quite sad. Here you really see the strong distinction between the "haves" and the "have nots".
Besides all that, the trip was incredible. We felt really chilled out when we got off the boat.
And then got a taxi to Eranakulum for Fort Cochi.
Another hell raiser of a cab ride - won't go into the details, as they are the same as every other driving experience I have had here. Hell. Two lanes become 6 then 4 then 5 - the same old mosh pit of vehicles all looking to take the next gap.
Julia and I managed to hire a houseboat at the last minute - really lucky because at this time of year the prices are typically doubled or trippled. We got a good deal though and an OK boat!
We boarded the boat at 11am. The boats are beautiful. They are made from bamboo and palm tree leaves. You can get really luxurious boats that accomodate large families or you can get simple, one bedroom boats. We had a boat of the simple kind. A cute deck with a dining cum lounge area, a bedroom and bathroom and a kitchen.
On board we had a cook, an engine expert, and a "captain". At first we felt a little awkward being waited on but we kind of got used to it.
The cook made us the most delicious meals we had had since we arrived. It was great.
The backwaters are said to be the "Venice of India". Your boat sails through large areas and then down narrow canals. These are lined with rice paddies and palm trees which give the whole experience an exotic feel. It's also very quite - bar the one luxury boat that was pumping some hindi house music! As you cruise down backwaters you pass little villages. You can see women doing their laundry in the river or washing up the dinner plates, children playing or washing in the water, families travelling from their home to somewhere else in a little canoe. It is really interesting, although at times it does feel a little obtrusive.
In the evening we moored and were fed (again). We had a few locals pass us and stare. Which increases the guilt factor...especially when the little kids ask for "a pen madam". It's really quite sad. Here you really see the strong distinction between the "haves" and the "have nots".
Besides all that, the trip was incredible. We felt really chilled out when we got off the boat.
And then got a taxi to Eranakulum for Fort Cochi.
Another hell raiser of a cab ride - won't go into the details, as they are the same as every other driving experience I have had here. Hell. Two lanes become 6 then 4 then 5 - the same old mosh pit of vehicles all looking to take the next gap.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Allepy town
After 3 days at Varkala we took another hellish train trip to Allepy, where we spent the evening at a wonderful old colonial style guest-house. OUr host, Sharif, was very attentive and made sure we had everything we needed. Our abstinence from alchohol over the past 10 days got the better of us at that Guest House. We decided we needed some wine - red wine - a rare commodity in India. The closest you get to alcohol here is Kingfisher - and it's like drinking watered down beer.
Sharif offered to drive us to the bottle store.
When we got outside and told us to hop on his bike, I was not going anywhere. Thank god julia was brave enough to go. She came back squeeling after about 20 minutes - she had the entire village of Allepy staring at her on the back of Sharif's bike!
Most Indian women ride sitting to the side. Legs closed and certainly not wrapped around a man! Julia got on the bike as would any westerner and was gawked at some more.
We got our bottle of wine. Red Indian "Zinfandel". Hmmm. Put it this way, India is probably not famous for it's wine for a reason.
We spent the evening speaking to some lovely Dutch girls we met. They were students - Dafne and Leigh. We were having dinner with them (more fish) when Sharif came running up to the table asking for our "help". He said that there were some tourists on their way from the station - 8 in total - and could we help him get them into the hotel.
I was eager to help so stood outside chatting with them until they arrived. And then it hit me. I was doing EXACTLY what the person before had done to us to get us to check in!!! I was not upset though because the hotel really was LOVELY. So as their tuk tuks arrived I just said, "hey you guys, this place has great accom too" - and of course they took it.
Unfortunately we didn't recieve any baksheesh for our doings (tip)!
After a good rest, we woke up famished as usual. Sharif suggested an Indian breakfast of Masala Dosa - a panckake stuffed with potatoe and onion mash. Sounds gross but it is delicious. We felt very smug enjoying our authentic breaky with our cup of tea.
We then took a cab for our pre-booked houseboat to begin our long awaited backwaters tour.
The first accomodation we booked, and a day and night we were really looking forward to!
Sharif offered to drive us to the bottle store.
When we got outside and told us to hop on his bike, I was not going anywhere. Thank god julia was brave enough to go. She came back squeeling after about 20 minutes - she had the entire village of Allepy staring at her on the back of Sharif's bike!
Most Indian women ride sitting to the side. Legs closed and certainly not wrapped around a man! Julia got on the bike as would any westerner and was gawked at some more.
We got our bottle of wine. Red Indian "Zinfandel". Hmmm. Put it this way, India is probably not famous for it's wine for a reason.
We spent the evening speaking to some lovely Dutch girls we met. They were students - Dafne and Leigh. We were having dinner with them (more fish) when Sharif came running up to the table asking for our "help". He said that there were some tourists on their way from the station - 8 in total - and could we help him get them into the hotel.
I was eager to help so stood outside chatting with them until they arrived. And then it hit me. I was doing EXACTLY what the person before had done to us to get us to check in!!! I was not upset though because the hotel really was LOVELY. So as their tuk tuks arrived I just said, "hey you guys, this place has great accom too" - and of course they took it.
Unfortunately we didn't recieve any baksheesh for our doings (tip)!
After a good rest, we woke up famished as usual. Sharif suggested an Indian breakfast of Masala Dosa - a panckake stuffed with potatoe and onion mash. Sounds gross but it is delicious. We felt very smug enjoying our authentic breaky with our cup of tea.
We then took a cab for our pre-booked houseboat to begin our long awaited backwaters tour.
The first accomodation we booked, and a day and night we were really looking forward to!
Closer to paradise
After an exhausting night in The Samurat, Julia and decided to spend the morning exploring Trivandrum before dashing off to our next destination and it turned out to be the most lovely morning.
We took a a walk around town and managed to buy a beautiful Indian style top each - at the cost of about 1GBP each. What luck! We then wandered towards the temple which was so beautiful. It had been intricately built with carved out statues of about 600 diffrent gods. Unfortunately we weren't allowed in as it was Hindu's only. But again we observed the Hindi visitors in their colourful saris and jhoti's purchasing all sorts of goodies for the gods.
After a look at the temple, we stumbled accross a museum which has turned out to be one of the highlights. It was the palace of one of the Maharaja's and was made of 600 rooms. It took 6000 workers 5 years to build it. And you can totally understand why when you walk around the place. The detail is incredible. Most of the temple is made of intricate wood carvings, all done by hand. It is very ornate and tastefully done.
The Maharaja lived in it for only one year in the 1800's before dying. The temple then remained empty for the next 150 years. We were both stunned and really impressed...the detail in every room, the ornaments, the carvings in the doors and ceilings and most of all the gifts from other countries royalty...all original artefacts were still present. We saw a massive pure crystal throne from the king of Czheckosolovakia, and an ivory and silk bed from the king of France as well as these 4m high, gold plated mirrors from the King of Italy. It was just so fascinating.
After the morning's excitement, we managed to get our first "real car" to Kovalam...FINALLY sand and sea and hopefully some downtime.
Our taxi driver drove us to a hotel we hadn't booked, and we thought we'd try our luck. We checked into the Sea Blue hotel -- the most fabulous family run hotel with a massive, clean swimming pool. Our room was lovely (anything would have been lovely given the Trivandrum flea pit!) and away from the rather tatty sea shore...but only a two minute walk down the hill to get to the sea.
In hindsight Kovalam is tourist heaven... there were millions of shops and restaurants along the shore line and loads of desperate touters trying to sell you anything and everything from fruit to materials to writing paper. It gets REALLY annoying and exhausting saying "No thank you, no thank you, not thank you, NO THANK YOU!!! "
There are also locals that bus in for the day to traipse, fully clothed, along the beach to catch a glimpse of white flesh in a bikini. As it state in our guide book they are officially known as "gawkers". and boy do they stare. One Indian man we passed asked to "take photo". So immediately we leaned towards his camera so that we could take a pic of him and his mates. Turned out WE were the ones they wanted to photograph. Gobsmakked, we agreed. I will laugh (or maybe cry) if our photograph is tacked onto some tourist brochure! ha ha
We have had some fascinating converstions with some lovely locals, about the caste system, religion, and arranged marriages. We met a woman called Lila and her husband who spent a couple of hours sitting on the beach with us recounting the arranged marriage they went through. There's was a tale with a happy ending - they are so obviously in love - but I believe the arranged marriage can sometimes turn ugly.
Our evenings in Kovallam were spent at the sea-front restaurants gorging on delicious fresh fish. The food here truly is spectacular.
We spent New Years eve in Kovallam, which was an absolute non event...quite a shock to both our systems. There was no party because the police presence was so huge..there has been trouble in the past with westerners getting groped and pick-pocketed, etc so if any groups gathered in the beach the cops came and broke it up. Julia and I saw in the new year with a cup of milky chai.
After that we decided to move on.
next destination... Varkala... woke up early and took a train to get there which again, as is everything in India, is an experience in itself. They are ancient, rickety metal lumps that cart thousand of people everyday. The trains are divided into classes - we took 3rd as the distance was short. BUT for any long train trips I will definately work my way up to either 2nd AC or 1st. 3rd is really dirty. There is no space and you have people almost sitting on your lap. After an hour on the train, passing through exquisit back water scenery we arrived in Varkala.
Again, no accomodation booked so we put our trust in the Lonely Planet and went with Bamboo village. Luck for us it was right on the beach front complete with pretty potplants and hammocks overlooking the sea. It turns out Varkala is pure paradise and we were kicking ourselves for not coming here sooner. The whole place is set on a dramtic cliff with views of the ocean as far as you can see...really quite spectacular. Its beautiful, with gorgeous little shops and load of "like-minded travellers" - read: backpackers haven, and English yuppies.
It was in Varkala where we also met some travellers and shared some experiences with them....Leo and Uli, the most memorable gave good advice for our trip moving forward.
The rest of our time in Varkala was spent doing yoga, swimming, eating, walking, more swimming, and just chilling out. We also did a day trip to Ponmudi hill station which was a good change of scenery. The Hill Station is 3 hours one way. We were extravagant and hired a driver to take us there. When we got there we drove all the way to teh top of the hill passing rubber trees, cloves drying in the sun, cotton trees and tea plantations. It really is quite exquisite.
We then did a mini trek to a waterfall and back. Again, good change of scenery.
We then had lunch - Briyani - and drove all the way back to Varkala passing through the villages.
Varkala was incredible. Have totally unwound and am ready for what lies ahead
We took a a walk around town and managed to buy a beautiful Indian style top each - at the cost of about 1GBP each. What luck! We then wandered towards the temple which was so beautiful. It had been intricately built with carved out statues of about 600 diffrent gods. Unfortunately we weren't allowed in as it was Hindu's only. But again we observed the Hindi visitors in their colourful saris and jhoti's purchasing all sorts of goodies for the gods.
After a look at the temple, we stumbled accross a museum which has turned out to be one of the highlights. It was the palace of one of the Maharaja's and was made of 600 rooms. It took 6000 workers 5 years to build it. And you can totally understand why when you walk around the place. The detail is incredible. Most of the temple is made of intricate wood carvings, all done by hand. It is very ornate and tastefully done.
The Maharaja lived in it for only one year in the 1800's before dying. The temple then remained empty for the next 150 years. We were both stunned and really impressed...the detail in every room, the ornaments, the carvings in the doors and ceilings and most of all the gifts from other countries royalty...all original artefacts were still present. We saw a massive pure crystal throne from the king of Czheckosolovakia, and an ivory and silk bed from the king of France as well as these 4m high, gold plated mirrors from the King of Italy. It was just so fascinating.
After the morning's excitement, we managed to get our first "real car" to Kovalam...FINALLY sand and sea and hopefully some downtime.
Our taxi driver drove us to a hotel we hadn't booked, and we thought we'd try our luck. We checked into the Sea Blue hotel -- the most fabulous family run hotel with a massive, clean swimming pool. Our room was lovely (anything would have been lovely given the Trivandrum flea pit!) and away from the rather tatty sea shore...but only a two minute walk down the hill to get to the sea.
In hindsight Kovalam is tourist heaven... there were millions of shops and restaurants along the shore line and loads of desperate touters trying to sell you anything and everything from fruit to materials to writing paper. It gets REALLY annoying and exhausting saying "No thank you, no thank you, not thank you, NO THANK YOU!!! "
There are also locals that bus in for the day to traipse, fully clothed, along the beach to catch a glimpse of white flesh in a bikini. As it state in our guide book they are officially known as "gawkers". and boy do they stare. One Indian man we passed asked to "take photo". So immediately we leaned towards his camera so that we could take a pic of him and his mates. Turned out WE were the ones they wanted to photograph. Gobsmakked, we agreed. I will laugh (or maybe cry) if our photograph is tacked onto some tourist brochure! ha ha
We have had some fascinating converstions with some lovely locals, about the caste system, religion, and arranged marriages. We met a woman called Lila and her husband who spent a couple of hours sitting on the beach with us recounting the arranged marriage they went through. There's was a tale with a happy ending - they are so obviously in love - but I believe the arranged marriage can sometimes turn ugly.
Our evenings in Kovallam were spent at the sea-front restaurants gorging on delicious fresh fish. The food here truly is spectacular.
We spent New Years eve in Kovallam, which was an absolute non event...quite a shock to both our systems. There was no party because the police presence was so huge..there has been trouble in the past with westerners getting groped and pick-pocketed, etc so if any groups gathered in the beach the cops came and broke it up. Julia and I saw in the new year with a cup of milky chai.
After that we decided to move on.
next destination... Varkala... woke up early and took a train to get there which again, as is everything in India, is an experience in itself. They are ancient, rickety metal lumps that cart thousand of people everyday. The trains are divided into classes - we took 3rd as the distance was short. BUT for any long train trips I will definately work my way up to either 2nd AC or 1st. 3rd is really dirty. There is no space and you have people almost sitting on your lap. After an hour on the train, passing through exquisit back water scenery we arrived in Varkala.
Again, no accomodation booked so we put our trust in the Lonely Planet and went with Bamboo village. Luck for us it was right on the beach front complete with pretty potplants and hammocks overlooking the sea. It turns out Varkala is pure paradise and we were kicking ourselves for not coming here sooner. The whole place is set on a dramtic cliff with views of the ocean as far as you can see...really quite spectacular. Its beautiful, with gorgeous little shops and load of "like-minded travellers" - read: backpackers haven, and English yuppies.
It was in Varkala where we also met some travellers and shared some experiences with them....Leo and Uli, the most memorable gave good advice for our trip moving forward.
The rest of our time in Varkala was spent doing yoga, swimming, eating, walking, more swimming, and just chilling out. We also did a day trip to Ponmudi hill station which was a good change of scenery. The Hill Station is 3 hours one way. We were extravagant and hired a driver to take us there. When we got there we drove all the way to teh top of the hill passing rubber trees, cloves drying in the sun, cotton trees and tea plantations. It really is quite exquisite.
We then did a mini trek to a waterfall and back. Again, good change of scenery.
We then had lunch - Briyani - and drove all the way back to Varkala passing through the villages.
Varkala was incredible. Have totally unwound and am ready for what lies ahead
Thursday, January 04, 2007
A night in Trivandrum Samurat Style
With no hotels available, we managed to book what felt like the last hotel on earth - The Samurat Hotel.
When we landed at the airport in Trivandrum, we got talking to two French gals who had not booked anything. We'd told them the mission we'd been through to get the room at the Samurat ( we had called about 18 hotels ) and offered to let them come with us. They gladly accepted.
Sabrinne and Sevrinne - from Marsailles (sp?!).
The Samurat was an experience I hope to never relive. It was the dodgiest hotel I have ever stepped foot into. Its only saving grace was Annu - the beautiful Indian guy who ran the show there. He was so pleased to see 4 young, white girls arrive. We were definately the first real foreigners he had ever hosted.
He arranged an extra mattress in the room for the Frenchies and was SO accomodating. He only charged us 400INR for the room for all of us. That's like 80p each a night!
But someone wise once said "you get what you pay for" and that room was revelation to that very saying.
The room was a filthy dirty flea pit. I felt sorry for the Frenchies sleeping on the floor - their matress was so dirty. I was too scared to lift the stained sheet off ours to have a look. Decided not knowing would be better.
The bathroom was also in bad shape. But at lease we had one with running water and a working loo.
Across the road was a temple or something that was blaring our Hindi music (which I am quite fond of now).
After dropping our luggage we went downstairs for a drink. Both Julia and I needed a stiff drink. It'd been a long day with the Mumbai airport taxi ride, all the walking + the flight.
We popped into the bar around the back of the hotel and were greeted with a room filled with working men on their night out. Again, everyone stopped to behold the sight that had just walked in. We had been there for about 2 seconds when Annu ran in and shooed us out. Apparenly women are NOT ALLOWED into the bars. They don't drink or smoke at all.
He happily bought us a Kingfisher and allowed us to sit in the hotel lobby. In exchange we spoke with him and kept him entertained.
After the beer, we hit the sack. The Frenchies had a cockaroach on their bed which we had to deal with first.
I don't think any of us in that room got a good night sleep again.
We were all moving on the next day. Julia and I wanted to explore Trivandrum - the temple, and markets and then hit Kovallum - beach resort.
That night I drifted in and out of sleep to the sounds of the Hindi melodies blaring through the walls. I prayed hard that our next stop would be something that resembled more a holiday than an experience!
When we landed at the airport in Trivandrum, we got talking to two French gals who had not booked anything. We'd told them the mission we'd been through to get the room at the Samurat ( we had called about 18 hotels ) and offered to let them come with us. They gladly accepted.
Sabrinne and Sevrinne - from Marsailles (sp?!).
The Samurat was an experience I hope to never relive. It was the dodgiest hotel I have ever stepped foot into. Its only saving grace was Annu - the beautiful Indian guy who ran the show there. He was so pleased to see 4 young, white girls arrive. We were definately the first real foreigners he had ever hosted.
He arranged an extra mattress in the room for the Frenchies and was SO accomodating. He only charged us 400INR for the room for all of us. That's like 80p each a night!
But someone wise once said "you get what you pay for" and that room was revelation to that very saying.
The room was a filthy dirty flea pit. I felt sorry for the Frenchies sleeping on the floor - their matress was so dirty. I was too scared to lift the stained sheet off ours to have a look. Decided not knowing would be better.
The bathroom was also in bad shape. But at lease we had one with running water and a working loo.
Across the road was a temple or something that was blaring our Hindi music (which I am quite fond of now).
After dropping our luggage we went downstairs for a drink. Both Julia and I needed a stiff drink. It'd been a long day with the Mumbai airport taxi ride, all the walking + the flight.
We popped into the bar around the back of the hotel and were greeted with a room filled with working men on their night out. Again, everyone stopped to behold the sight that had just walked in. We had been there for about 2 seconds when Annu ran in and shooed us out. Apparenly women are NOT ALLOWED into the bars. They don't drink or smoke at all.
He happily bought us a Kingfisher and allowed us to sit in the hotel lobby. In exchange we spoke with him and kept him entertained.
After the beer, we hit the sack. The Frenchies had a cockaroach on their bed which we had to deal with first.
I don't think any of us in that room got a good night sleep again.
We were all moving on the next day. Julia and I wanted to explore Trivandrum - the temple, and markets and then hit Kovallum - beach resort.
That night I drifted in and out of sleep to the sounds of the Hindi melodies blaring through the walls. I prayed hard that our next stop would be something that resembled more a holiday than an experience!
Moving on
Our last morning in Mumbai was spent at the Mahalakshmi Temple - North Mumbai.
The street lining the temple was lined with nothing but colourful offerings that people buy for the gods. Beautiful flower chains, coconut, inscence, food, icons and of course lotus flowers.
The temple was really interesting. We had to take our shoes off before entering.
Of course we couldn't actually go into the main bit as we are not Hindi, but it was good to observe the people kissing the godly shrines, and praying. It is so interesting how each culture has its own traditions and ways with the gods ultimately leading to faith, hope and love.
From the temple we moved onto the Dhobi Ghats. Another Mumbai wonder. Basically rows and rows of men washing the cities dirty laundry. They hit it against concrete walls and then hang it up in the hot city sun to dry. It really is a sight. We didn't spend too much time staring though as we were shooed away by one of the washers.
We then took a walk across Chowpatty Beach, and again we were harrassed by some gawking man - high as a kite on something. So we continued along Marine drive back to the hotel.
Picked up our stuff, got a taxi to Mumbai Domestic Airport.
Again, a hair-raising taxi ride. Our very driver insisted on giving us a bit of information on the city. At first we were really pleased but then it started to get a bit worrying as he kept turning around to talk to us. Eyes off the road. Not any road, remember, the MAD road.
After an hour of weaving in and out of the traffic we got to the airport.
Time to move onto peace and quiet!
Next stop Trivandrum.
The street lining the temple was lined with nothing but colourful offerings that people buy for the gods. Beautiful flower chains, coconut, inscence, food, icons and of course lotus flowers.
The temple was really interesting. We had to take our shoes off before entering.
Of course we couldn't actually go into the main bit as we are not Hindi, but it was good to observe the people kissing the godly shrines, and praying. It is so interesting how each culture has its own traditions and ways with the gods ultimately leading to faith, hope and love.
From the temple we moved onto the Dhobi Ghats. Another Mumbai wonder. Basically rows and rows of men washing the cities dirty laundry. They hit it against concrete walls and then hang it up in the hot city sun to dry. It really is a sight. We didn't spend too much time staring though as we were shooed away by one of the washers.
We then took a walk across Chowpatty Beach, and again we were harrassed by some gawking man - high as a kite on something. So we continued along Marine drive back to the hotel.
Picked up our stuff, got a taxi to Mumbai Domestic Airport.
Again, a hair-raising taxi ride. Our very driver insisted on giving us a bit of information on the city. At first we were really pleased but then it started to get a bit worrying as he kept turning around to talk to us. Eyes off the road. Not any road, remember, the MAD road.
After an hour of weaving in and out of the traffic we got to the airport.
Time to move onto peace and quiet!
Next stop Trivandrum.
Mumbai nights
Our first night in Mumbai was great. We walked around Colaba again in the hope of finding a bit of a party. We stumbled upon a fantastic and zooty bar called Indigo but decided to leave after looking at the over-priced menu. Seriously, the place was priced a la London prices AND was a bit too chic!
Feeling a little hungry we decided that we'd get some food local style. I had read about this place called (not so sure what the name was) in a travel magazine. It had reccomended it for the traditional Thali's. So Julia and I grabbed an auto-rickshaw - like a tuk tuk - and asked to be taken there.
The restaurant was opposite the Mumbai hospital (good sign, non!?). The name of the restaurant was written in Hindi hence me not remembering what it was called.
Julia and I walk and it was just like a bad movie scene. Everyone - staff, patrons, dogs, whatever - stopped between mouthfulls and serving just to look up at what the cat dragged in. These two whities - AND female - AND unaccompanied. Unheard of.
Julia of course is tall, leggy and blonde so she unfortunately had to bear the brunt of most of the staring.
The restaurant was filled with families having their evening meal (another good sign). We sat down at one of the tables. In front of each of us was a stainless steal flat dish with about 5 little bowels placed neatly in a semi-circle. The waiters all come out of the kitchen, each holding a pot with something different and begin to FILL the Thali dish up with the most delicious bits of food.
The flat part of the dish is used for the starch - rice, poppudums, naan - and for the relish - corriander paste, achar, and some other stuff. The little bowels are filled with different stewey type concoctions - chickpea, lentil, veg-soup stuff, raita, curry, potatoe and spinach stuff...and then the most delicous coconut milk-rice pudding stuff.
We were starving from the day's activities and tucked right in! Our dishes were replenished every 5 minutes.
Full to the brim we asked for the bill and were shocked. The meal for the two of us was about 4GBP and we had eaten a lot! It was so good.
We then headed back to Colaba, had another walk around and decided to start heading back to Sea Green Hotel. The first auto-rickshaw to approach us wanted to charge us about 100INR to take us back. This is outrageous considering we'd spent 11INR to get to Colaba in the first place. As we were negotiating, these two young guys on a bike drive by. They offered to help us get home. At first we politely resisted and just started walking down the road from all the bustling.
A couple of blocks down, one of the guys who had been on the bike runs up to us and introduces himself. His name was Sunjay - means Sun in Maharati. His friend joined him shortley and they both offered to walk us home. At first I was a bit reluctant and a bit offish, but they were so pleasant. I instinctively got a good feeling and both of us agreed it would be OK. And it was. In fact they were really interesting. They were telling us a bit about the city, what they do....they taught us the word "Shukria" which politely means "NO!" A word you really need in Mumbai where you are CONSTANTLY harrassed to "come take a look, come buy, please give me, give me, give me". They were both really kind and walked us right to the front door of the hotel.
I will not forget that evening. I think that was the first time I actually felt OK in the city, maybe even the country. Sunjay had said, "I want you to like my country, I am not going to do funny business with you, I just want you to love the country where I come from"
Feeling a little hungry we decided that we'd get some food local style. I had read about this place called (not so sure what the name was) in a travel magazine. It had reccomended it for the traditional Thali's. So Julia and I grabbed an auto-rickshaw - like a tuk tuk - and asked to be taken there.
The restaurant was opposite the Mumbai hospital (good sign, non!?). The name of the restaurant was written in Hindi hence me not remembering what it was called.
Julia and I walk and it was just like a bad movie scene. Everyone - staff, patrons, dogs, whatever - stopped between mouthfulls and serving just to look up at what the cat dragged in. These two whities - AND female - AND unaccompanied. Unheard of.
Julia of course is tall, leggy and blonde so she unfortunately had to bear the brunt of most of the staring.
The restaurant was filled with families having their evening meal (another good sign). We sat down at one of the tables. In front of each of us was a stainless steal flat dish with about 5 little bowels placed neatly in a semi-circle. The waiters all come out of the kitchen, each holding a pot with something different and begin to FILL the Thali dish up with the most delicious bits of food.
The flat part of the dish is used for the starch - rice, poppudums, naan - and for the relish - corriander paste, achar, and some other stuff. The little bowels are filled with different stewey type concoctions - chickpea, lentil, veg-soup stuff, raita, curry, potatoe and spinach stuff...and then the most delicous coconut milk-rice pudding stuff.
We were starving from the day's activities and tucked right in! Our dishes were replenished every 5 minutes.
Full to the brim we asked for the bill and were shocked. The meal for the two of us was about 4GBP and we had eaten a lot! It was so good.
We then headed back to Colaba, had another walk around and decided to start heading back to Sea Green Hotel. The first auto-rickshaw to approach us wanted to charge us about 100INR to take us back. This is outrageous considering we'd spent 11INR to get to Colaba in the first place. As we were negotiating, these two young guys on a bike drive by. They offered to help us get home. At first we politely resisted and just started walking down the road from all the bustling.
A couple of blocks down, one of the guys who had been on the bike runs up to us and introduces himself. His name was Sunjay - means Sun in Maharati. His friend joined him shortley and they both offered to walk us home. At first I was a bit reluctant and a bit offish, but they were so pleasant. I instinctively got a good feeling and both of us agreed it would be OK. And it was. In fact they were really interesting. They were telling us a bit about the city, what they do....they taught us the word "Shukria" which politely means "NO!" A word you really need in Mumbai where you are CONSTANTLY harrassed to "come take a look, come buy, please give me, give me, give me". They were both really kind and walked us right to the front door of the hotel.
I will not forget that evening. I think that was the first time I actually felt OK in the city, maybe even the country. Sunjay had said, "I want you to like my country, I am not going to do funny business with you, I just want you to love the country where I come from"
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Exploring Mumbai
We decided to walk South Mumbai on day 1- still not brave enough to get back into one of those cars! We went past the fort area - which is home to the beautiful Prince something Museum - it seems to be the only restored building in Mumbai besides the exclusive Taj Palace Hotel. I will post some pics of this as words cannot describe how regal it is.
We then walked down to the Gateway of India - Mumbai's most famous monument, and today a symbol of colonial times. And then we hit Coloba - the tourist hotspot in Mumbai.
We were both keen to get to the "market". After asking a couple of people for directions (they all pointed to different ways which is apparently common - something to do with showing face) we came across what we thougth was the "market" and indeed it was. Although it was not what we were expecting. Behind the tourist district in Colaba is a shanty town. Again the shanties here are made with any materials possible. We were the only whities walking around and this became really apparent when a dog started barking us down the road. Again this area is really poverty stricken. It is hustling and bustling with small shops (most seem to sell the same goods, so I am not sure how they survive) and people, most of whom are beggars. It was really heart breaking and we were constantly jeered at or asked for money. It gets exhausting saying "no, no, no" the whole time especially when you just want to give to everyone. God it was sad.
After the barking dog incident we decided to leave. And luckily we managed to find our way to the "market we were after! The main Colaba Causeway is lined with stalls that sell the most beautiful goods - precious stones, gorgeous fabrics, cloths, intricate leather sandals. The markets here also sell a lot of rubbish too. We decided to walk across the stalls. Julia bought a few items. It is difficult to spend freely after witnessing such extreme poverty and not feel guilty.
It think we were both pleasantly surprised at how easy it is to haggle the price of any of the goods down. Initially we felt a little uncomfortable doing it, but apparently it is expected and you soon get the swing using phrases like "your best price" or "new year's price" etc.
We had a massive lunch in Leopolds - the cafe described in the book Shantaram ( a must read for anyone remotely interested in Indian culture and the goings on in Mumbai), and enjoyed a couple of hours just people spotting. Apparenltly this is the cafe to see and to be seen.
(tbc)
We then walked down to the Gateway of India - Mumbai's most famous monument, and today a symbol of colonial times. And then we hit Coloba - the tourist hotspot in Mumbai.
We were both keen to get to the "market". After asking a couple of people for directions (they all pointed to different ways which is apparently common - something to do with showing face) we came across what we thougth was the "market" and indeed it was. Although it was not what we were expecting. Behind the tourist district in Colaba is a shanty town. Again the shanties here are made with any materials possible. We were the only whities walking around and this became really apparent when a dog started barking us down the road. Again this area is really poverty stricken. It is hustling and bustling with small shops (most seem to sell the same goods, so I am not sure how they survive) and people, most of whom are beggars. It was really heart breaking and we were constantly jeered at or asked for money. It gets exhausting saying "no, no, no" the whole time especially when you just want to give to everyone. God it was sad.
After the barking dog incident we decided to leave. And luckily we managed to find our way to the "market we were after! The main Colaba Causeway is lined with stalls that sell the most beautiful goods - precious stones, gorgeous fabrics, cloths, intricate leather sandals. The markets here also sell a lot of rubbish too. We decided to walk across the stalls. Julia bought a few items. It is difficult to spend freely after witnessing such extreme poverty and not feel guilty.
It think we were both pleasantly surprised at how easy it is to haggle the price of any of the goods down. Initially we felt a little uncomfortable doing it, but apparently it is expected and you soon get the swing using phrases like "your best price" or "new year's price" etc.
We had a massive lunch in Leopolds - the cafe described in the book Shantaram ( a must read for anyone remotely interested in Indian culture and the goings on in Mumbai), and enjoyed a couple of hours just people spotting. Apparenltly this is the cafe to see and to be seen.
(tbc)
Where lovers meet
After passing out for 3 hours and having only weird dreams I eventually came around. Had a few hours to kill before Julia arrived in Mumbai so decided to go for a long walk along Marine Drive. A bit embarrassed to admit I was too scared to start exploring in full force alone.
Marine drive seems to be the meeting hot spot for young couples who are courting or for families. I also got the sense that it's a place for people to take a break from the chaos that is Mumbai; just stare across the bay and be mezmerised by the calm water. There are lots of hawkers selling nuts, and snacks all along the drive.
I just walked up and down a few times, but again felt a bit wary of all the gawking locals.
The sunset was exquisite. A big red ball of fire setting over the horizon. I sat on the wall for a bit watching it go down and allowed the undulating ocean to calm my nerves!
Julia arrived a few hours later. Her nerves were also shot having had an even scarier cab ride in the dark. Good to see her after 10 months! We spent the first hour downloading our first impressions of the city!
Famished, we then went around the corner to the hotel reccomended restaurant which unfortunately turned out to be a Pizzeria.
Over a pizza and a pasta we vowed to be brave over the next couple of days and to really make the most of this foreign city.
Marine drive seems to be the meeting hot spot for young couples who are courting or for families. I also got the sense that it's a place for people to take a break from the chaos that is Mumbai; just stare across the bay and be mezmerised by the calm water. There are lots of hawkers selling nuts, and snacks all along the drive.
I just walked up and down a few times, but again felt a bit wary of all the gawking locals.
The sunset was exquisite. A big red ball of fire setting over the horizon. I sat on the wall for a bit watching it go down and allowed the undulating ocean to calm my nerves!
Julia arrived a few hours later. Her nerves were also shot having had an even scarier cab ride in the dark. Good to see her after 10 months! We spent the first hour downloading our first impressions of the city!
Famished, we then went around the corner to the hotel reccomended restaurant which unfortunately turned out to be a Pizzeria.
Over a pizza and a pasta we vowed to be brave over the next couple of days and to really make the most of this foreign city.
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