We were again up early for our bus, and luckily we allowed some time to spare as we were delayed by our hotel owner who attempted to overcharge us for our rooms, so he and I traded blows for 30 minutes before threats to go to the police finally shut him up. I have to say that the same situation two months ago would have been a nightmare, and indeed the Americans (who had both been in India less than a fortnight) were both nonplussed and inclined to pay it; but after being here for a a few months I'm definitely not a noob anymore. The bus was on time for once and five hours later we were in Khajuraho.
The town of Khajuraho is famous for one thing only really; sex. Spread around the town are a large number of temples all of which feature beautiful stone carvings adorning the walls, the vast majority of which depict scenes from the Kama Sutra. The ancient Indians were a horny bunch. Upon arriving we made our plans; we’d spend the day enjoying – ahem – observing the temples and then in the evening we’d get a train to Agra which would arrive the following morning. After the first non Indian meal I’d had in weeks (pizza) we made our way out and had a look around. We had a good laugh walking around, but sex aside the temples were magnificent in their own right.
The carvings were actually a lot more tame than we’d expected (our generation is so warped by the internet..) but showed some pretty impressive displays of uh, athleticism. The most shocking of all was a small carving of, err.. Let’s just say that it seems that once upon a time it was a horse, not a dog, who was man’s best friend. Yeh… One of the more amusing sights was an old crusty sock that was lying on the grass suspiciously close to some of the raunchier artwork. Hmm. Nonetheless Khajuraho was a pretty nice town; the guidebook entry was very large and made it out as a major tourist spot so I was expecting it to be large and loud, but in fact it was a pretty small, pleasant place where we were able to relax at our leisure.
In the evening we had a few beers watching Germany hammer England in the World Cup with some Indians we met who assured me that they were cheering for England. They chose wrong I suppose. After that shameful performance we made our way to Khajuraho railway station which, due to having been completed less than a year ago and being a minor stop, has yet to acquire the trademark stench of urine that I’ve been subjected to at most other Indian stations. The Indian rail system is effective in some ways, but unfortunately it’s not at all convenient for arranging short notice, long distance trips, as Sleeper berths get booked up several days (and sometimes weeks) in advance, meaning that in order to travel short notice you have to go General II class.
This is fine for short distances, but pretty horrible for longer journeys as you’re unlikely to get a seat unless you get on the train at its source, and even then it’s overly crowded, loud, and hot as hell. Our journey to Agra would involve a train change after two hours, and that first stretch was very pleasant as our train was virtually empty so we just sat and chatted with three Indian guys. Upon arrival we would have to wait another two hours (until 0200) for the next train to arrive and take us to Agra, again in II class. As expected, it arrived at 0330.
While sitting in the waiting room I was treated to a spectacular display of what India can do to you if you take yourself too seriously, as a girl from Belgium came in and sat down, wearing a skimpy crop top; the kind of thing that’s bound to get a western girl all the wrong kinds of attention from the sex-deprived Indian men. Before long all the men were leering at her and one particularly classy guy got out his camera phone. This did not amuse the girl, who at this point seemed to lose it and started swearing uncontrollably before throwing her bag at the man’s head, slapping him (still swearing) and storming out of the room. I was worried for a second she was going to throw herself onto the track, she was just so off the rails it was crazy. Silly girl. I’ve had so much attention from Indians since being in the country on account of my fair hair and skin, and everyone I’ve talked to has had similar experiences; I guess it’s just something you have to deal with. Training for the life of a celebrity perhaps.
We eventually got on the train, and seeing as II class was full to bursting we attempted to upgrade to Sleeper with an onboard conductor, but sadly it was completely full. However the guy took pity on us and allowed us to just sleep on the floor of the sleeper carriages, which although dirty, was far better than general class would have been; we at least had room to breathe, and I was able to snatch a little sleep before we arrived in Agra at around 0800.
Friday, 9 July 2010
Thursday, 8 July 2010
Kanha National Park
I was up early for my 0700 train to Jabalpur, but I needn't have bothered as it arrived 90 minutes late, so I settled in for another long day on the move. It was 1900 when we finally arrived, and I very nearly missed the stop. As we pulled into the station I'd kept an eye open for signs saying the name of the station, but hadn't seen any and so asked one of the Indians I was sitting with which station we were at. Without hesitation he replied 'Zahanabar'. Well I had no reason not to believe him so waited for the train to move off, and just as it did I again asked the man, to which he gave the same reply, and he was not corrected by any of the other five Indians sitting with us.
Fortunately I had a funny feeling so as the train started moving off I looked out for a sign and I finally did see one saying 'Jabalpur' so I quickly grabbed my bag and flip flops and took a running jump off the train, just about making it before the last of the platform disappeared. I got a lot of funny looks for my antics but it was pretty fun to do. It also illustrated a few things, firstly not to trust other people on things like station names. It 'could' have been a mistake of the man but I highly doubt it, not to mention the fact that I would have thought one of the others would have interjected. The other thing it highlighted was the wisdom of my decision to pack as light as possible. Almost every backpacker I'd seen was fielding a 70+ litre rucksack, whereas mine was only a 40 litre. But I have to say that I'm not sure I could have landed barefoot after jumping from a moving train carrying that kind of weight; more likely I'd have twisted an ankle and ruined my week, but as it was I landed spryly.
My reason for coming to Jabalpur was that it's a perfect launchpad city for heading out to one of the three main tiger parks in the region. I'd had to rush from Aurangabad as the parks all closed on June 30th for the monsoon, and I didn't want to cut it too close. I opted to go to Kanha, the largest of the parks, as I figured that I had the best chance of meeting other travelers there, which was vital to me as I needed to share the cost of a safari as they're pretty damned expensive. To that aim I spent the night in Jabalpur, enjoying a beer and some cricket with some locals at a bar, and the following morning got myself a bus to the village of Khatia from where I could get a safari through the Kisli gate and into the park proper. The 6 hour bus journey was uncomfortable, but before long I was arriving at Khatia. It's interesting how my perspective of distance has changed since coming to India; back home in England the six hour trip north to Lancaster seemed like quite a lot, but now six hours seems like a warm up somehow.
I asked around and found out that there were only two other foreigners in the park, two Americans one of whom had been there a week and the other who had just arrived. They were both staying at the same place so I went with the flow and haggled my way to a cheap room. We all met up over dinner and agreed to split the cost of a jeep safari the following morning, and after negotiating with the owner for a while, came to a very reasonable price. The safari left at 0500 so I was again up early and, after some chai, raring to go. The sun was just rising as we ventured out through the gates and into the wild, so to speak. I had no idea what it would be like, but I was not disappointed.
The first thing that hit me about Kanha was the sheer greenness of it. All around was an oasis of vibrant plant life echoing the sounds of nature. The Gypsy Jeep we were in made its way quickly up the track and before long we were deep in the heart of the park, with just over four hours to soak up as much wildlife as we were lucky enough to spot. The two Americans were busy snapping photos left and right, but I had accidently left my camera in my room so I was free to relax and take it all in. The star attraction of Kanha is of course its tigers, a sighting of which is likely on your average safari, but not guaranteed. There were numerous Sambar (similar to deer) and monkeys (which I had now seen so many of throughout India that these just seemed standard) as well as multiple sightings of the wild dogs that roam the park. One particularly spectacular moment was watching a huge crowd of several hundred Sambar cantering across the fields after being spooked by a pack of the dogs who, to be fair, didn’t seem interested.
We spent a moderate amount of time waiting with our eyes peeled for a cat to appear, and we came very close to seeing one of the incredibly rare leopards, as according to another jeep one had fallen right out of a tree in front of them and was still somewhere nearby. Sadly the leopard never did come into view, but the waiting around gave me ample time to appreciate the truly beautiful scenery. Thousands of years ago much of India must have looked the same as Kanha does; and it was a strange feeling to be in the heart of what was such a huge contrast to how the rest of the country is now, and it blows my mind to think that the whole subcontinent, now so overpopulated, was once a vast wilderness.
As we drove around the rough tracks weaving through the park, we saw numerous birds from owls to eagles, and the image of a vulture sitting on a dead tree illustrated how far out from civilization we were. Towards the end of the safari we saw some of the rarer fauna; a small group of Gaurs (the world’s largest oxen) which were standing around grazing, as well as a glimpse of the odd looking Sloth Bear through the bush. Right as we were heading in, we finally got a tiger sighting. Having a drink from a watering hole, one of the majestic cats stayed around for a few minutes, ignoring our presence in the jeep, before padding silently back into the jungle. I hadn’t been all that fussed about seeing a tiger as I was more interested in the landscape, but it was nonetheless pretty incredible seeing a tiger right up close, not in captivity but in its natural habitat, and I’m very glad it got thirsty when it did.
After ending on a high note, we made our way back to civilization and a good breakfast. I hadn’t really planned specifically how long I wanted to spend in Kanha, but I had to catch a train from Jabalpur to Agra in a few days. Although I would have loved to go on another safari, my budget simple couldn’t take it as even sharing it with the two Americans had cost me Rs1250 (GBP20) and to go on one alone would cost me three times that amount. Both the American guys were leaving in the afternoon for Jabalpur, and we got on really well so we decided to all join up and go first to Jabalpur and then on to Khajuraho together. I could have stayed for another day and just gone walking in the park, but there wasn’t a lot to do really there and I figured I could easily cancel my train from Jabalpur to Agra and make my own way there after Khajuraho, which was in the same direction.
We enjoyed a really good thali lunch and got packed up. The bus would be leaving at 1300 and it arrived promptly, we got on, and departed. Only joking; this is India. The bus broke down. We waited around for two hours, and then took a roundabout route back, switching buses half way through, but making it back at a fairly reasonable time. There wasn’t a direct train to Khajuraho so after some internet café research utilizing my by-now comprehensive grasp of the Indian railway system, we ascertained that we could take a 2 hour train to Satna and stay the night, and then take a bus the rest of the way in the morning. After some minor problems getting tickets (it seems it’s pronounced ‘Suttana’, and for some reason just saying Satna as it’s written isn’t comprehensible) we got on to the crowded second class carriage and had two hours of sitting on the floor before we arrived, forged our way through the familiar swarms of rickshaw drivers and touts, and found ourselves some cheap rooms for the night. It had been a long day.
Fortunately I had a funny feeling so as the train started moving off I looked out for a sign and I finally did see one saying 'Jabalpur' so I quickly grabbed my bag and flip flops and took a running jump off the train, just about making it before the last of the platform disappeared. I got a lot of funny looks for my antics but it was pretty fun to do. It also illustrated a few things, firstly not to trust other people on things like station names. It 'could' have been a mistake of the man but I highly doubt it, not to mention the fact that I would have thought one of the others would have interjected. The other thing it highlighted was the wisdom of my decision to pack as light as possible. Almost every backpacker I'd seen was fielding a 70+ litre rucksack, whereas mine was only a 40 litre. But I have to say that I'm not sure I could have landed barefoot after jumping from a moving train carrying that kind of weight; more likely I'd have twisted an ankle and ruined my week, but as it was I landed spryly.
My reason for coming to Jabalpur was that it's a perfect launchpad city for heading out to one of the three main tiger parks in the region. I'd had to rush from Aurangabad as the parks all closed on June 30th for the monsoon, and I didn't want to cut it too close. I opted to go to Kanha, the largest of the parks, as I figured that I had the best chance of meeting other travelers there, which was vital to me as I needed to share the cost of a safari as they're pretty damned expensive. To that aim I spent the night in Jabalpur, enjoying a beer and some cricket with some locals at a bar, and the following morning got myself a bus to the village of Khatia from where I could get a safari through the Kisli gate and into the park proper. The 6 hour bus journey was uncomfortable, but before long I was arriving at Khatia. It's interesting how my perspective of distance has changed since coming to India; back home in England the six hour trip north to Lancaster seemed like quite a lot, but now six hours seems like a warm up somehow.
I asked around and found out that there were only two other foreigners in the park, two Americans one of whom had been there a week and the other who had just arrived. They were both staying at the same place so I went with the flow and haggled my way to a cheap room. We all met up over dinner and agreed to split the cost of a jeep safari the following morning, and after negotiating with the owner for a while, came to a very reasonable price. The safari left at 0500 so I was again up early and, after some chai, raring to go. The sun was just rising as we ventured out through the gates and into the wild, so to speak. I had no idea what it would be like, but I was not disappointed.
The first thing that hit me about Kanha was the sheer greenness of it. All around was an oasis of vibrant plant life echoing the sounds of nature. The Gypsy Jeep we were in made its way quickly up the track and before long we were deep in the heart of the park, with just over four hours to soak up as much wildlife as we were lucky enough to spot. The two Americans were busy snapping photos left and right, but I had accidently left my camera in my room so I was free to relax and take it all in. The star attraction of Kanha is of course its tigers, a sighting of which is likely on your average safari, but not guaranteed. There were numerous Sambar (similar to deer) and monkeys (which I had now seen so many of throughout India that these just seemed standard) as well as multiple sightings of the wild dogs that roam the park. One particularly spectacular moment was watching a huge crowd of several hundred Sambar cantering across the fields after being spooked by a pack of the dogs who, to be fair, didn’t seem interested.
We spent a moderate amount of time waiting with our eyes peeled for a cat to appear, and we came very close to seeing one of the incredibly rare leopards, as according to another jeep one had fallen right out of a tree in front of them and was still somewhere nearby. Sadly the leopard never did come into view, but the waiting around gave me ample time to appreciate the truly beautiful scenery. Thousands of years ago much of India must have looked the same as Kanha does; and it was a strange feeling to be in the heart of what was such a huge contrast to how the rest of the country is now, and it blows my mind to think that the whole subcontinent, now so overpopulated, was once a vast wilderness.
As we drove around the rough tracks weaving through the park, we saw numerous birds from owls to eagles, and the image of a vulture sitting on a dead tree illustrated how far out from civilization we were. Towards the end of the safari we saw some of the rarer fauna; a small group of Gaurs (the world’s largest oxen) which were standing around grazing, as well as a glimpse of the odd looking Sloth Bear through the bush. Right as we were heading in, we finally got a tiger sighting. Having a drink from a watering hole, one of the majestic cats stayed around for a few minutes, ignoring our presence in the jeep, before padding silently back into the jungle. I hadn’t been all that fussed about seeing a tiger as I was more interested in the landscape, but it was nonetheless pretty incredible seeing a tiger right up close, not in captivity but in its natural habitat, and I’m very glad it got thirsty when it did.
After ending on a high note, we made our way back to civilization and a good breakfast. I hadn’t really planned specifically how long I wanted to spend in Kanha, but I had to catch a train from Jabalpur to Agra in a few days. Although I would have loved to go on another safari, my budget simple couldn’t take it as even sharing it with the two Americans had cost me Rs1250 (GBP20) and to go on one alone would cost me three times that amount. Both the American guys were leaving in the afternoon for Jabalpur, and we got on really well so we decided to all join up and go first to Jabalpur and then on to Khajuraho together. I could have stayed for another day and just gone walking in the park, but there wasn’t a lot to do really there and I figured I could easily cancel my train from Jabalpur to Agra and make my own way there after Khajuraho, which was in the same direction.
We enjoyed a really good thali lunch and got packed up. The bus would be leaving at 1300 and it arrived promptly, we got on, and departed. Only joking; this is India. The bus broke down. We waited around for two hours, and then took a roundabout route back, switching buses half way through, but making it back at a fairly reasonable time. There wasn’t a direct train to Khajuraho so after some internet café research utilizing my by-now comprehensive grasp of the Indian railway system, we ascertained that we could take a 2 hour train to Satna and stay the night, and then take a bus the rest of the way in the morning. After some minor problems getting tickets (it seems it’s pronounced ‘Suttana’, and for some reason just saying Satna as it’s written isn’t comprehensible) we got on to the crowded second class carriage and had two hours of sitting on the floor before we arrived, forged our way through the familiar swarms of rickshaw drivers and touts, and found ourselves some cheap rooms for the night. It had been a long day.
Tuesday, 22 June 2010
Aurangabad
I was more than a little sad to leave, but Hampi saw me off in wonderful fashion, with a sensationally beautiful red sunset which colored the blue sky with streaks of pink and made the surrounding landscape glow. My train overnight from Hospet to Hyderabad was 50 minutes late but I passed the time talking to a friendly Indian agriculturalist who would be in my carriage and I was soon boarding and getting comfortable. Most of the train journeys I'd be doing would be in the common Sleeper class which is reasonably comfortable, but for the journey to Hyderabad the Sleeper class was fully booked up and I had no choice but to opt for the more expensive air conditioned carriages. Though given my budget I'll still choose Sleeper in the future, I will say that after having not spent any real time in a cool environment for around two months, that night was absolute bliss, as I'd forgotten what it was like to sleep without sweating.
By the time we arrived the train was really, really late. Once a train starts running late it invariably gets later and later as it is forced to wait at stations for the other - on time - trains to get out of the way. As I was transferring at Hyderabad Decan station to Secunderabad station (an hour away by train) I was getting worried that I wouldn't have time to get there in time (the train would be arriving at around 1230 with my next one leaving Secunderabad at 1330) but fortunately my new agriculturalist friend helpfully told me I could get off earlier and just take a rickshaw 7kms to Secunderabad. I'd scoured the guidebook to see if anything like this was possible, as well as the internet but nothing had come up. Very grateful to the man, I disembarked and arrived at Secunderabad with 20 minutes to spare. I was able to see only a little of Hyderabad on my way through but it seemed a fairly pleasant city. Along with Bangalore, Hyderabad (coined Cyberabad) is a major technological center in India, and like Bangalore the city reflects this with some ultra modern looking structures. Having said that, like Bangalore it was still loud, dirty and full of far too many people; and after the quiet life in Hampi it was far too chaotic for my liking.
The second train journey would last the rest of the day and was scheduled to arrive at 2320. All in all it was pretty standard; I didn't have a window seat but was able to see a little of the countryside, and spent the rest of the time reading, listening to music and chatting with a hotel owner from near Agra. I did get to experience the dubious joys of platform food and the welcome sounds of 'Chai chai chai chai chaiiii' from the roving chai merchants, but most of the time it was pretty boring. And hot, sticky and dirty.. I was pretty tired out by the time we arrived 45 minutes late at just after midnight, but copious amounts of Masala Chai during the trip kept me awake after having been moving (or waiting to move) for the previous 27 hours, and I was fortunately able to find myself a place to stay very quickly despite the late hour. The sleep was much needed.
My main reasons for coming to Aurangabad were the proximity to two ancient caves called Ajanta and Ellora which are famous for their beautiful art work, and are supposed to be mighty impressive. My tight schedule for the next month left me two days in Aurangabad, but on the second day I would at some point have to make the four hour bus trip north to Jalgaon from where I would be taking another train north at 0700 the following morning. My plan had therefore been to spend the first day on the much closer Ellora (which wouldn't take as long thus allowing me to sleep in) and then on the second day going first to Ajanta (which is half way to Jalgaon) and then continuing north for another two hours to Jalgaon. Unfortunately, I had overlooked the fact that for some reason the Ellora caves were closed on Tuesday (how do you close a cave?) and by ill chance the first day I was there was indeed a Tuesday. By the time I was up from my sleep in, had eaten and discovered this fact, it was too late to make it worth visiting Ajanta as I would have only an hour or so there before catching the last bus back.
Fortunately I was able to entertain myself for the day; I met a couple of other tourists (a girl from Brighton and a Polish guy who'd lost his leg in a motorbike accident but who was still, incredibly, traveling around India on his crutches) and we shared a rickshaw tour around Aurangabad, seeing some Buddhist caves on the hills above the city which were average but provided impressive views of the surrounding planes, as well as a few other places. The most interesting was Aurangabad's so called 'Mini Taj', a grubby imitation of Agra's Taj Mahal which a rich prince had started to build before having his father cut his allowance. The result is that the 'poor man's Taj' looks dirty and drab (there's little or no marble) although it was still nice to see and gave me a taste of what the real thing might be like, as the proportions and design are the same. We suffered through the obligatory visit (rickshaw drivers love playing tout) to a local shop filled with various souvenirs as well as beautiful textiles (for which Aurangabad is somewhat famous) without making any purchases before grabbing some food and beer, watching some football and turning in for the night.
The following day we opted to go to Ellora. Ajanta would have been more convenient in terms of getting to Jalgaon, but upon doing some research it seemed that Ellora was the the more impressive of the two, and the fact that on the way there was an old hilltop fort was the clincher. We teamed up with a German on the 40 minute hike up, and had spectacular views from the top. The final stretch of the climb was through a pitch black cave system filled with by now all too familiar bats. There were small holes from above from which defenders would have been able to pour boiling oil down on the invaders. After making our way back down we had another 30 minutes to Ellora. I wasn't really sure what to expect, but it was really astonishing how some of the caves had been carved deep into the rocky mountainside. There are over 30 caves at Ellora, and although many of them are very similar to each other, two in particular were unbelievable. The first featured a huge stone carving of the Buddha which provided an incredible atmosphere that was made perfect when an old man in Buddhist robes came in and hummed the sacred Om (Aum) which resonated incredibly loudly due to the specifically designed acoustics in the cave. Listening to it echo all round I could really imagine how magical it must have been to hear dozens of monks all humming the same note in that place.
The most impressive of all was Ellora's centerpiece, the impossibly large Kailasanatha Temple, which I'm lost for words to describe. The sheer side of it, all carved from the living rock, is jaw dropping, not to mention the exquisite artwork that decorates the entire base of the monumental structure. Even pictures wouldn't convey the sheer magnitude of the thing, but it alone made the trip worthwhile, let alone the rest of the caves. After we'd had our fill, I said goodbye to the other three (still marveling at how the Polish guy had managed to climb all over the place with his crutches) and got a bus on to Jalgaon. Predictably the bus got a puncture halfway through so a four hour journey turned into a six hour one, but eventually I arrived in Jalgaon, found myself an absolutely beautiful room (I really wish all the places I stayed at were as good) and set the alarm for an early start in preparation for the following day's train journey north to Jabalpur, leaving at 0700.
By the time we arrived the train was really, really late. Once a train starts running late it invariably gets later and later as it is forced to wait at stations for the other - on time - trains to get out of the way. As I was transferring at Hyderabad Decan station to Secunderabad station (an hour away by train) I was getting worried that I wouldn't have time to get there in time (the train would be arriving at around 1230 with my next one leaving Secunderabad at 1330) but fortunately my new agriculturalist friend helpfully told me I could get off earlier and just take a rickshaw 7kms to Secunderabad. I'd scoured the guidebook to see if anything like this was possible, as well as the internet but nothing had come up. Very grateful to the man, I disembarked and arrived at Secunderabad with 20 minutes to spare. I was able to see only a little of Hyderabad on my way through but it seemed a fairly pleasant city. Along with Bangalore, Hyderabad (coined Cyberabad) is a major technological center in India, and like Bangalore the city reflects this with some ultra modern looking structures. Having said that, like Bangalore it was still loud, dirty and full of far too many people; and after the quiet life in Hampi it was far too chaotic for my liking.
The second train journey would last the rest of the day and was scheduled to arrive at 2320. All in all it was pretty standard; I didn't have a window seat but was able to see a little of the countryside, and spent the rest of the time reading, listening to music and chatting with a hotel owner from near Agra. I did get to experience the dubious joys of platform food and the welcome sounds of 'Chai chai chai chai chaiiii' from the roving chai merchants, but most of the time it was pretty boring. And hot, sticky and dirty.. I was pretty tired out by the time we arrived 45 minutes late at just after midnight, but copious amounts of Masala Chai during the trip kept me awake after having been moving (or waiting to move) for the previous 27 hours, and I was fortunately able to find myself a place to stay very quickly despite the late hour. The sleep was much needed.
My main reasons for coming to Aurangabad were the proximity to two ancient caves called Ajanta and Ellora which are famous for their beautiful art work, and are supposed to be mighty impressive. My tight schedule for the next month left me two days in Aurangabad, but on the second day I would at some point have to make the four hour bus trip north to Jalgaon from where I would be taking another train north at 0700 the following morning. My plan had therefore been to spend the first day on the much closer Ellora (which wouldn't take as long thus allowing me to sleep in) and then on the second day going first to Ajanta (which is half way to Jalgaon) and then continuing north for another two hours to Jalgaon. Unfortunately, I had overlooked the fact that for some reason the Ellora caves were closed on Tuesday (how do you close a cave?) and by ill chance the first day I was there was indeed a Tuesday. By the time I was up from my sleep in, had eaten and discovered this fact, it was too late to make it worth visiting Ajanta as I would have only an hour or so there before catching the last bus back.
Fortunately I was able to entertain myself for the day; I met a couple of other tourists (a girl from Brighton and a Polish guy who'd lost his leg in a motorbike accident but who was still, incredibly, traveling around India on his crutches) and we shared a rickshaw tour around Aurangabad, seeing some Buddhist caves on the hills above the city which were average but provided impressive views of the surrounding planes, as well as a few other places. The most interesting was Aurangabad's so called 'Mini Taj', a grubby imitation of Agra's Taj Mahal which a rich prince had started to build before having his father cut his allowance. The result is that the 'poor man's Taj' looks dirty and drab (there's little or no marble) although it was still nice to see and gave me a taste of what the real thing might be like, as the proportions and design are the same. We suffered through the obligatory visit (rickshaw drivers love playing tout) to a local shop filled with various souvenirs as well as beautiful textiles (for which Aurangabad is somewhat famous) without making any purchases before grabbing some food and beer, watching some football and turning in for the night.
The following day we opted to go to Ellora. Ajanta would have been more convenient in terms of getting to Jalgaon, but upon doing some research it seemed that Ellora was the the more impressive of the two, and the fact that on the way there was an old hilltop fort was the clincher. We teamed up with a German on the 40 minute hike up, and had spectacular views from the top. The final stretch of the climb was through a pitch black cave system filled with by now all too familiar bats. There were small holes from above from which defenders would have been able to pour boiling oil down on the invaders. After making our way back down we had another 30 minutes to Ellora. I wasn't really sure what to expect, but it was really astonishing how some of the caves had been carved deep into the rocky mountainside. There are over 30 caves at Ellora, and although many of them are very similar to each other, two in particular were unbelievable. The first featured a huge stone carving of the Buddha which provided an incredible atmosphere that was made perfect when an old man in Buddhist robes came in and hummed the sacred Om (Aum) which resonated incredibly loudly due to the specifically designed acoustics in the cave. Listening to it echo all round I could really imagine how magical it must have been to hear dozens of monks all humming the same note in that place.
The most impressive of all was Ellora's centerpiece, the impossibly large Kailasanatha Temple, which I'm lost for words to describe. The sheer side of it, all carved from the living rock, is jaw dropping, not to mention the exquisite artwork that decorates the entire base of the monumental structure. Even pictures wouldn't convey the sheer magnitude of the thing, but it alone made the trip worthwhile, let alone the rest of the caves. After we'd had our fill, I said goodbye to the other three (still marveling at how the Polish guy had managed to climb all over the place with his crutches) and got a bus on to Jalgaon. Predictably the bus got a puncture halfway through so a four hour journey turned into a six hour one, but eventually I arrived in Jalgaon, found myself an absolutely beautiful room (I really wish all the places I stayed at were as good) and set the alarm for an early start in preparation for the following day's train journey north to Jabalpur, leaving at 0700.
Wednesday, 16 June 2010
Hampi
I arrived in Bangalore at around 0600 having slept only a little; although the sleeper bus was fairly comfortable, Indian roads seem to be designed to prevent people from resting; there are constant holes in the road and most of the towns you pass through have three large speed bumps as you enter and leave, meaning that you are constantly jolted around which makes staying asleep for any length of time almost impossible. Having said that, I had managed a little shuteye so was relatively conscious and alert when we docked in Bangalore.
Upon arrival back in the city, I got myself a rickshaw to a seedy neighborhood close to the bus and train stations where there were numerous cheap hotels clustered along the streets. I had a few places on my list of preferred hotels but unfortunately all the better looking places were fully booked. As I was walking along the street looking at places I was constantly hounded by touts asking if I wanted a place to stay, 'good place, cheap place, you want?' which I did my best to avoid. Yes, I'm looking for a nice cheap place, but not from you. The reason touts are to be avoided is that they will insist on walking you up the stairs to their advertised hotel desk where the people will charge you an elevated fee in order to pay the tout his commission. Far from ideal. After 30 minutes of looking around though I found a pleasant place with a nice room and a fairly reasonable price. Like Bombay, Bangalore is more expensive than most of India so I was glad that I would only be staying for the one day.
After catching up on the previous night's sleep I spent the day having a walk round and then waiting around for my train in the evening. Although I'll admit that Bangalore is nicer as you move away from the busy transport center, it's still not a city that I particularly like so I was looking forward to getting away. In the early evening I met a British geneticist while eating dinner and ended up talking to him for the remaining three hours before I had to leave for my train. He was the first British person I'd met in over a month so it was nice to have a chat, and our long conversation ranged from global warming, overpopulation, the state of India and finally to a consensus that a man with a troupe of trained monkeys could pretty much do anything. With that wonderful realization made, I packed up and made my way to the train station where after a short wait I boarded the Hampi Express which would take me to Hospet from where I could take a 45 minute bus to Hampi.
The train journey was a lot more comfortable than the previous night's bus journey had been, and due to the smoother ride I got a decent night's kip. We were scheduled to arrive at Hospet Junction at 0730 but I was woken about an hour earlier by the daylight and increased traffic on the train. Although initially grumpy at being roused, after glancing out of the window I was immediately pacified upon glancing out of the window and seeing the beautiful surrounding landscape, which was impressive enough to quickly wake me up. Whereas most of the rest of India that I'd seen had generally been very flat, the area of Karnataka (the region in which Hampi is located) was littered with small brown hills in between green fields and shrubs. As we got closer, the view quickly got more impressive as the brown hills gave way to larger hills made up of huge boulders, while the land surrounding the hills got still more and more green. Descriptions or photographs simply can't do the area justice as there's something irresistibly seductive about the landscape.
After arriving in Hospet only 15 minutes late, I quickly got a rickshaw to the bus station and, ignoring all the rickshaw drivers assuring me that they could take me to Hampi for 'only' 100 rupees, I found the bus I wanted and got to Hampi for the low low price of Rs12. I found myself a pleasant (and much cheaper than Bangalore) Hotel nestled in the backstreets near the center of Hampi Bazaar, and after sleeping for a couple of hours, went out to have a look round. The natural beauty of the landscape at Hampi is simply staggering. As much I'd like to I can't convey just how magical the place is, all I can say is that Hampi has become easily one of my favorite places in the world. In addition to the wonderful aesthetics, the small town is amazingly quiet; right in the center of town there are a few engines going and very occasionally a horn goes off, but it's still refreshingly tranquil, especially in contrast to the horribly noisy Bangalore and Tamil Nadu from whence I'd come.
On the first day I was pretty tired and so didn't want to do a whole lot of exploring, but in the end I was out for a long while as I just couldn't resist. That day I walked around for a few hours but what I think really made me fall in love with Hampi was when I took a trip up Matanga Hill, a large boulder strewn hill with a temple at the top. The hike up was pleasant (there was a nice path of stone steps all the way up) and towards the top I was courted by a family of wonderfully cute langur monkeys, but the really incredible part was the peak; not the temple itself (although it was also impressive) but the absolutely unbelievable view from the top. With unobstructed three hundred and sixty degree visability of miles and miles of the mesmerizing landscape, I stayed at the top for over an hour just looking round grinning uncontrollably and the sheer majesty of the place. To placate the neurotic folks back home I snapped a few photos on my phone, but they won't do it any justice; Hampi has something indescribably special.
My tacked-together itinerary that I'd thought up in Pondicherry gave me four days in Hampi, but within seconds of that first spectacular view I knew it clearly wasn't going to be enough, so I quickly came up with an alternate plan which would extend my stay to a crown total of ten days. I would have made it longer but with limited time in India I didn't want to cut off too many places; by extending my stay I was already having to ditch plans to visit Varanasi and Khajuraho (not that I was too sour about it really; both would have been nice but Varanasi in particular would have been one hell of a hassle). After studying up on trains, I took a bus back to Hospet train station, cancelled three of the trains I'd booked (fortunately the cancellation fees are very small in India assuming you cancel in advance) and booked a further six trains that would cover all my remaining bookings in India, as the other journeys I would be taking were of relatively shorter distances and thus shouldn't require booking. With all the complicated planning business taken care of, I rushed back to my beloved Hampi and settled in for a nice relaxing week.
The ancient ruins surrounding Hampi are extensive and varied, but all have the same seductive majesty that permeates throughout the area. It took me several days of hard walking to see most of the major sites, and still more days to see the minor ones. I did all of the exploring on foot as there were constant opportunities for rock climbing to reach otherwise inaccessible shrines high up in the rocky hills. One of my favorite moments was during one of these climbing sessions, I'd spotted a small ruin that required climbing to reach and after throwing my flip-flops in my bag and making the ascent I decided I'd go a little higher and see if there was anything else above me. There certainly was. After another few minutes of climbing I came across a large cave populated by around twenty langur monkeys, with several adorable babies looking up at me wide eyed as I watched. I took a little rest outside while watching them and it wasn't long before a few of them came over to me looking very curious.
The monkeys are considered sacred by the locals (in fact the area is known as the land of the monkey gods, and I can certainly see why) so they're not at all shy. As it turned out the monkeys were more interested in trying to steal my bag than in me, so after a brief tug of war I decided to move on upwards. I hadn't got very far when I looked back to see that five or six of the impish monkeys had decided to join me in the climb. I can't tell you how incredible it felt to go rock climbing with monkeys, but as I climbed with the monkeys flanking me I couldn't stop smiling. In the end I did find another small shrine at the very top of the rocks, but by the time I got there I really didn't care. I sat at the top with my monkeys for five minutes before climbing back down, saying goodbye to my new friends on the way down. What an experience.
The ruins themselves were very interesting to explore. Part of the fun was venturing down into the pitch black basement area where I couldn't see anything at all but could hear the numerous bats I was disturbing flying all around me. Fortunately I'm not afraid of bats but it was definitely unnerving going down there alone in the dark. Then again, it's fun to scare yourself every once in a while. After the first time though it occurred to me that there might be snakes lurking around, so I brought my little torch to secure the ground. Incidentally the invasion of light just provoked more movement from the bats so if anything it was even more frightening, better safe than sorry though I guess.
Although I spent most of my time exploring alone as I like the freedom to go wherever the mood takes me, I did spend a couple of days going round with two American guys I met who were a relatively decent sort, although unbelievably American and at times I had to fight hard to suppress laughter at how much they fit the bill of the stereotypical tourist. Then after that pathetic display of football from the England side in South Africa I was forced to listen to them blabber on about 'soccer'... Bleh. The nicest people I met were a 17 year old Indian kid named Krishna and his friend who I met while exploring, well off the beaten track. He showed me around some of the nearby temples and then when we got pinned down inside by a rampant shower of rain we had a long talk which was very pleasant, and I got a nice insider's take on life in India. Krishna was a farmer and told me with wonderful pride about his ten cows and his life, while I at the same time told him about life in the west. It was really nice to see authentic Indian friendliness. I was also invited to lunch with his family; another pleasant affair where I was subjected to open curiosity, apparently as a result of my fair hair and pristine forearms.
The weather during my stay varied considerably, on certain days it was incredibly hot and sunny, while on others there was cloud and occasional rain. Both had advantages and disadvantages; the sun was unbelievably beautiful with gorgeous blue skies with fluffy white clouds but at the same time the heat and humidity was exhausting and very draining. The cloud, while less aesthetically pleasing, was far more comfortable with a greatly reduced temperature.
The rain was actually not bad at all, in fact most of the time it was a pleasant relief and usually didn't last too long. Another of my favorite moments was during a particularly impressive thunderstorm; as soon as it started I threw on my raincoat and made my way back up Matanga hill, ignoring the strange glances from the people I passed. It was well worth the slippery climb though as the feeling at the top was just... Well, there isn't really a word to describe how it feels to stand high up in the center of a thunderstorm with the rain hammering down, the relentless winds trying to batter you off the edge, and the magical landscape of Hampi spread out below you, while the lightning lit up the carbon skies... Ah I could burst into song. In my raincoat I was dry and cosy, so I once again stayed up for a good hour until the rains died down and the rays of sun penetrated through the drenched clouds.
The length of this post probably illustrates just how much I like this place; I could easily go on for pages about everything I've seen and done here, but everything must come to an end and much too soon I was packing up, taking a last walk around and preparing for around 24 hours of travel northbound: first an overnight journey to Hyderabad (which I would be enjoying in the more expensive air conditioned second class compartments as regular sleeper had been fully booked), then a couple of hours waiting around after transferring to Secunderabad before spending the rest of the day on the way to Aurangabad where I would be arriving at around midnight.
My time spent in Hampi is something that I'll never forget, and in a way I'd like to stay longer, but at the same time I'm looking forward to what I'm sure will be an incredible last month in India.
Upon arrival back in the city, I got myself a rickshaw to a seedy neighborhood close to the bus and train stations where there were numerous cheap hotels clustered along the streets. I had a few places on my list of preferred hotels but unfortunately all the better looking places were fully booked. As I was walking along the street looking at places I was constantly hounded by touts asking if I wanted a place to stay, 'good place, cheap place, you want?' which I did my best to avoid. Yes, I'm looking for a nice cheap place, but not from you. The reason touts are to be avoided is that they will insist on walking you up the stairs to their advertised hotel desk where the people will charge you an elevated fee in order to pay the tout his commission. Far from ideal. After 30 minutes of looking around though I found a pleasant place with a nice room and a fairly reasonable price. Like Bombay, Bangalore is more expensive than most of India so I was glad that I would only be staying for the one day.
After catching up on the previous night's sleep I spent the day having a walk round and then waiting around for my train in the evening. Although I'll admit that Bangalore is nicer as you move away from the busy transport center, it's still not a city that I particularly like so I was looking forward to getting away. In the early evening I met a British geneticist while eating dinner and ended up talking to him for the remaining three hours before I had to leave for my train. He was the first British person I'd met in over a month so it was nice to have a chat, and our long conversation ranged from global warming, overpopulation, the state of India and finally to a consensus that a man with a troupe of trained monkeys could pretty much do anything. With that wonderful realization made, I packed up and made my way to the train station where after a short wait I boarded the Hampi Express which would take me to Hospet from where I could take a 45 minute bus to Hampi.
The train journey was a lot more comfortable than the previous night's bus journey had been, and due to the smoother ride I got a decent night's kip. We were scheduled to arrive at Hospet Junction at 0730 but I was woken about an hour earlier by the daylight and increased traffic on the train. Although initially grumpy at being roused, after glancing out of the window I was immediately pacified upon glancing out of the window and seeing the beautiful surrounding landscape, which was impressive enough to quickly wake me up. Whereas most of the rest of India that I'd seen had generally been very flat, the area of Karnataka (the region in which Hampi is located) was littered with small brown hills in between green fields and shrubs. As we got closer, the view quickly got more impressive as the brown hills gave way to larger hills made up of huge boulders, while the land surrounding the hills got still more and more green. Descriptions or photographs simply can't do the area justice as there's something irresistibly seductive about the landscape.
After arriving in Hospet only 15 minutes late, I quickly got a rickshaw to the bus station and, ignoring all the rickshaw drivers assuring me that they could take me to Hampi for 'only' 100 rupees, I found the bus I wanted and got to Hampi for the low low price of Rs12. I found myself a pleasant (and much cheaper than Bangalore) Hotel nestled in the backstreets near the center of Hampi Bazaar, and after sleeping for a couple of hours, went out to have a look round. The natural beauty of the landscape at Hampi is simply staggering. As much I'd like to I can't convey just how magical the place is, all I can say is that Hampi has become easily one of my favorite places in the world. In addition to the wonderful aesthetics, the small town is amazingly quiet; right in the center of town there are a few engines going and very occasionally a horn goes off, but it's still refreshingly tranquil, especially in contrast to the horribly noisy Bangalore and Tamil Nadu from whence I'd come.
On the first day I was pretty tired and so didn't want to do a whole lot of exploring, but in the end I was out for a long while as I just couldn't resist. That day I walked around for a few hours but what I think really made me fall in love with Hampi was when I took a trip up Matanga Hill, a large boulder strewn hill with a temple at the top. The hike up was pleasant (there was a nice path of stone steps all the way up) and towards the top I was courted by a family of wonderfully cute langur monkeys, but the really incredible part was the peak; not the temple itself (although it was also impressive) but the absolutely unbelievable view from the top. With unobstructed three hundred and sixty degree visability of miles and miles of the mesmerizing landscape, I stayed at the top for over an hour just looking round grinning uncontrollably and the sheer majesty of the place. To placate the neurotic folks back home I snapped a few photos on my phone, but they won't do it any justice; Hampi has something indescribably special.
My tacked-together itinerary that I'd thought up in Pondicherry gave me four days in Hampi, but within seconds of that first spectacular view I knew it clearly wasn't going to be enough, so I quickly came up with an alternate plan which would extend my stay to a crown total of ten days. I would have made it longer but with limited time in India I didn't want to cut off too many places; by extending my stay I was already having to ditch plans to visit Varanasi and Khajuraho (not that I was too sour about it really; both would have been nice but Varanasi in particular would have been one hell of a hassle). After studying up on trains, I took a bus back to Hospet train station, cancelled three of the trains I'd booked (fortunately the cancellation fees are very small in India assuming you cancel in advance) and booked a further six trains that would cover all my remaining bookings in India, as the other journeys I would be taking were of relatively shorter distances and thus shouldn't require booking. With all the complicated planning business taken care of, I rushed back to my beloved Hampi and settled in for a nice relaxing week.
The ancient ruins surrounding Hampi are extensive and varied, but all have the same seductive majesty that permeates throughout the area. It took me several days of hard walking to see most of the major sites, and still more days to see the minor ones. I did all of the exploring on foot as there were constant opportunities for rock climbing to reach otherwise inaccessible shrines high up in the rocky hills. One of my favorite moments was during one of these climbing sessions, I'd spotted a small ruin that required climbing to reach and after throwing my flip-flops in my bag and making the ascent I decided I'd go a little higher and see if there was anything else above me. There certainly was. After another few minutes of climbing I came across a large cave populated by around twenty langur monkeys, with several adorable babies looking up at me wide eyed as I watched. I took a little rest outside while watching them and it wasn't long before a few of them came over to me looking very curious.
The monkeys are considered sacred by the locals (in fact the area is known as the land of the monkey gods, and I can certainly see why) so they're not at all shy. As it turned out the monkeys were more interested in trying to steal my bag than in me, so after a brief tug of war I decided to move on upwards. I hadn't got very far when I looked back to see that five or six of the impish monkeys had decided to join me in the climb. I can't tell you how incredible it felt to go rock climbing with monkeys, but as I climbed with the monkeys flanking me I couldn't stop smiling. In the end I did find another small shrine at the very top of the rocks, but by the time I got there I really didn't care. I sat at the top with my monkeys for five minutes before climbing back down, saying goodbye to my new friends on the way down. What an experience.
The ruins themselves were very interesting to explore. Part of the fun was venturing down into the pitch black basement area where I couldn't see anything at all but could hear the numerous bats I was disturbing flying all around me. Fortunately I'm not afraid of bats but it was definitely unnerving going down there alone in the dark. Then again, it's fun to scare yourself every once in a while. After the first time though it occurred to me that there might be snakes lurking around, so I brought my little torch to secure the ground. Incidentally the invasion of light just provoked more movement from the bats so if anything it was even more frightening, better safe than sorry though I guess.
Although I spent most of my time exploring alone as I like the freedom to go wherever the mood takes me, I did spend a couple of days going round with two American guys I met who were a relatively decent sort, although unbelievably American and at times I had to fight hard to suppress laughter at how much they fit the bill of the stereotypical tourist. Then after that pathetic display of football from the England side in South Africa I was forced to listen to them blabber on about 'soccer'... Bleh. The nicest people I met were a 17 year old Indian kid named Krishna and his friend who I met while exploring, well off the beaten track. He showed me around some of the nearby temples and then when we got pinned down inside by a rampant shower of rain we had a long talk which was very pleasant, and I got a nice insider's take on life in India. Krishna was a farmer and told me with wonderful pride about his ten cows and his life, while I at the same time told him about life in the west. It was really nice to see authentic Indian friendliness. I was also invited to lunch with his family; another pleasant affair where I was subjected to open curiosity, apparently as a result of my fair hair and pristine forearms.
The weather during my stay varied considerably, on certain days it was incredibly hot and sunny, while on others there was cloud and occasional rain. Both had advantages and disadvantages; the sun was unbelievably beautiful with gorgeous blue skies with fluffy white clouds but at the same time the heat and humidity was exhausting and very draining. The cloud, while less aesthetically pleasing, was far more comfortable with a greatly reduced temperature.
The rain was actually not bad at all, in fact most of the time it was a pleasant relief and usually didn't last too long. Another of my favorite moments was during a particularly impressive thunderstorm; as soon as it started I threw on my raincoat and made my way back up Matanga hill, ignoring the strange glances from the people I passed. It was well worth the slippery climb though as the feeling at the top was just... Well, there isn't really a word to describe how it feels to stand high up in the center of a thunderstorm with the rain hammering down, the relentless winds trying to batter you off the edge, and the magical landscape of Hampi spread out below you, while the lightning lit up the carbon skies... Ah I could burst into song. In my raincoat I was dry and cosy, so I once again stayed up for a good hour until the rains died down and the rays of sun penetrated through the drenched clouds.
The length of this post probably illustrates just how much I like this place; I could easily go on for pages about everything I've seen and done here, but everything must come to an end and much too soon I was packing up, taking a last walk around and preparing for around 24 hours of travel northbound: first an overnight journey to Hyderabad (which I would be enjoying in the more expensive air conditioned second class compartments as regular sleeper had been fully booked), then a couple of hours waiting around after transferring to Secunderabad before spending the rest of the day on the way to Aurangabad where I would be arriving at around midnight.
My time spent in Hampi is something that I'll never forget, and in a way I'd like to stay longer, but at the same time I'm looking forward to what I'm sure will be an incredible last month in India.
Saturday, 29 May 2010
Pondicherry
I spent the first few days of my stay in Pondicherry exploring the town and continuing to acclimatize to the heat. Pondicherry (known by locals as Pondy) has quintessentially French roots and this is extremely apparent in certain parts of the town, with pleasant cobblestone streets and yellow buildings. The majority of the town however remains very much Indian, although it is far less full on than what I experienced in Bombay and Bangalore. Pondy is in the Indian region of Tamil Nadu which is somewhat renowned for abuse of the horn on the roads, and I was at times very frustrated by this. On the bright side though, unlike Bombay where I could hardly make it 5 minutes without being hounded by someone looking for a payout, Pondicherry was relatively hassle free. There were still a few beggars around, but they are not persistent and don't really pressure you if you decline to give them anything. The only little pests that didn't drop off at a polite refusal were young street urchins selling small hand made cloth bags and pouches. On one occasion a particularly tenacious lad followed me for nearly a mile before I was able to lose him in a restaurant; I'll admit that I was tempted to pull out my MP3, put on something by the Prodigy, throw over a street stall and make a proper getaway of it, but I fortunately managed to control that particular impulse.
As Pondy is a seaside town, I was extremely eager to check out the beach and cool off in the ocean, and so was initially disappointed that Pondy itself does not have a stretch of beach but rather a mile and a half long promenade separated from the sea by a wall of large and fairly jagged rocks. After having spent a while in the town though, I came to really appreciate the promenade. Although it does suck not being able to dip in the sea any time you want, it really is an incredibly pleasant stroll to take. The sea breeze is heavenly in the heat and at sunset it's especially beautiful. On many occasions after a meal in the evening I got myself a fruit juice from a conveniently located stall (the grape juice in particular is wonderful) and found myself a comfortable rock from which to spend a peaceful few moments gazing out at the ocean.
Although I couldn't go swimming in the sea at Pondicherry, the ocean was calling me so I quickly established that there were a few decent beaches to be found within 8km north of Pondy. I rented myself a dying bicycle for a few rupees and headed north along the coastal road, raced a few of the slower mopeds and was nearly blasted off the road by the absurdly loud bus horns before I was able to eventually find myself a stretch of almost completely deserted beach where I was could finally have an incredibly refreshing dip. The water is pretty much the perfect temperature for my purpose; cool enough that you feel magnificently rejuvenated but warm enough that you can stay in for as long as you like without getting cold. I was surprised to learn that very few Indians know how to swim, so there were very few people going in (probably a wise decision considering that the currents are noticeably strong in the Bay of Bengal) and I had the beach largely to myself.
I have to say that I would not like to be a woman on a beach in India; when I went to a much busier beach where there were a few western women in bikinis, there were scores of Indian men just standing there shamelessly gawping. Nice 'n sleazy. They aren't entirely to blame though I suppose; as a result of the culture out here wherein most women are not supposed to show more than the bare minimum of skin, the poor guys are no doubt absurdly sex deprived. Then again, I suppose it isn't just the ladies that are victim to that kind of attention; at one point I was even offered 'public sex' by two gay Indian men who had been watching me sunbathing. Aand moving on..
One of the highlights of my stay was a whole day motorbike tour with a local Indian guy named Anamalai who is something like a state prosecutor. Claudine introduced me to him as we were invited to dinner with his family, and we spent a pleasant evening discussing politics (it was just before the immensely disappointing UK general election) in both of our countries, as well as local affairs and a common agreement that Daniel Craig just doesn't feel like James Bond. And where the hell is Q? His (and his mother's) hospitality was exemplary to the point that they got incredibly agitated when Claudine attempted to get up and take her plate to the kitchen. She at times had been a little pushy about 'fattening me up' so I was most amused to see her get a taste of her own medicine as they refused to hear her protests about not being hungry. The food was great too. A few days later, Anamalai invited me out on his bike for the day.
We saw a lot of places so I won't go into all of them, but of particular note was a backwater boat ride at Chunambar to the south of Pondy. I felt rather sorry for Ana as the poor guy was pretty nervous about the safety of the boat (like most Indians, he couldn't swim) but I think he nonetheless enjoyed it too, and he seemed to relax when I assured him that if he ended up in the water I would gallantly rescue him. The lush scenery surrounding the water was picturesque with beautifully white beaches at the meet with the sea and shady palm trees dotted around. One of the best things about it was that as it was well away from any roads, it was blissfully free of the normal Tamil Nadu soundtrack of engines and horns, with the only sounds being that of nature. There were also local fishermen standing knee deep in the water chatting while making their catches and wildlife all around. The overall effect was a remarkable feeling of peace and serenity, and the place will certainly linger in my memory.
In addition to Chunambar we saw a few temples, several lakes and plenty of the surrounding region, as well as a finale at a small nature park with a small number of animals and snakes, the highlight of which was a dozen or so beautifully vain peacocks. Lunch was a parcel takeaway of a huge number of spicy dishes which were eaten in front of one of the picturesque lakes we visited, and it was lovely to eat which watching the surface of the water teeming with life. Aside from my excursion with Ana I had done a fair amount of looking around myself and saw a good number of temples and churches in Pondy. Although I'm not really a temple person usually, some were very beautiful and it was fun getting blessed (tapped on the head with her trunk) by Lakshmi, the adorable temple elephant, in return for a coin at one of the larger temples.
In general my time spent at Pondy was very relaxed and laid back; I mostly just lapped up the sun, the sea and most of all the culture, which as I said is unlike anything I've seen anywhere else and is something you have to see to understand. During my stay I also created a rough plan of my future route through India, which would take me to a number of locations as I traveled north in a zigzag path, stopping at Agra to see the Taj Mahal and then making my way west to the sands of Rajasthan to finish my journey. I familiarized myself with the initially daunting Indian Rail booking system and eventually managed to book myself four trains which would take me most of the way to the north of India. As I said, the booking system at first seems overly complicated and can be a pain, but once you know what you're doing it's actually a pretty effective system.
I also got to ride a few local buses around which was an experience that I think is probably the closest you can get to an orgy without taking off your clothes. All the buses were filled to bursting and I had to fight my way both on and off. The biggest challenge I had was in knowing when to get off as when standing in the middle of the bus, you cannot see out to know where you are so have to just guess when to disembark. All in all though it was a fun experience and the buses were also very cheap. On one bus they were playing some Hindi music and I very nearly just shouted 'MOSH' and went for it. The locals probably wouldn't have seen the funny side of that one..
Although most of my time was spent in and around Pondy, I did also make a few excursions. I spent one day in the nearby town of Auroville, a social experiment wherein some 45 different nations united to form a new kind of town. The town itself is very nice and feels much more peaceful than Pondicherry. Although the majority of the town's inhabitants are Indian, there are people from many other countries around the world, with a large number of volunteers. After meeting one of the 'leaders' of the town I was invited to come to Auroville as a volunteer and even showed a pleasant hut where I could stay for a small fee. Although I had intended to go along for a few days I never did get round to it, but I did learn a bit more about the town from various sources. I got the impression more and more from what I heard that although the town seemed very laid back, there was a good deal of tension bubbling beneath the surface. Still, it was a nice place and somewhere well worth the visit.
The other major trip I made was a two day visit to the town of Mamallapuram some two hours north of Pondicherry by bus, a journey I undertook along with a Spanish woman named Maria living above me who I'd met through Claudine. We checked into a very nice hotel that, although slightly more expensive than what I would have normally have gone for, was very pleasant and had a fantastic swimming pool which I spent most of the day in and out of. The sea was also close by and was again lovely albeit with strong rips and very strange wave patterns. The settlement was home to a host of beautiful temples as well as some caves and huge boulders. I didn't get a chance to see absolutely everything but had a good look around. The heat was oppressive and the water beautiful but my walk around revealed some impressive sights so I was glad I made the effort. Once again one of the nicest things about the small town was that it was far quieter than Pondicherry and brought home just how much noise there was back in Pondy.
In total I spent just over a month in and around Pondicherry, slightly longer than I had intended, but my lifestyle was simply so relaxed and cushy that it was hard to gear myself up to move on. Claudine had been wonderful in putting me up for so long, so I was incredibly grateful to her for all of her kindness. With everything booked and ready, I got a sleeper bus overnight to Bangalore on the 8th June. There was a bit of a ruckus right as I was about to leave as there was some kind of accident involving the bus I would have been taking so I had to wait an extra hour before taking a bus from a different company. However after getting through the initial fuss it proved to be to my advantage as the new bus was somewhat more comfortable than the one I had booked and was even some Rs20 cheaper. I finally got on board, waved Claudine, Maria and Pondicherry farewell and settled in for the eight hour trip back west to Bangalore.
As Pondy is a seaside town, I was extremely eager to check out the beach and cool off in the ocean, and so was initially disappointed that Pondy itself does not have a stretch of beach but rather a mile and a half long promenade separated from the sea by a wall of large and fairly jagged rocks. After having spent a while in the town though, I came to really appreciate the promenade. Although it does suck not being able to dip in the sea any time you want, it really is an incredibly pleasant stroll to take. The sea breeze is heavenly in the heat and at sunset it's especially beautiful. On many occasions after a meal in the evening I got myself a fruit juice from a conveniently located stall (the grape juice in particular is wonderful) and found myself a comfortable rock from which to spend a peaceful few moments gazing out at the ocean.
Although I couldn't go swimming in the sea at Pondicherry, the ocean was calling me so I quickly established that there were a few decent beaches to be found within 8km north of Pondy. I rented myself a dying bicycle for a few rupees and headed north along the coastal road, raced a few of the slower mopeds and was nearly blasted off the road by the absurdly loud bus horns before I was able to eventually find myself a stretch of almost completely deserted beach where I was could finally have an incredibly refreshing dip. The water is pretty much the perfect temperature for my purpose; cool enough that you feel magnificently rejuvenated but warm enough that you can stay in for as long as you like without getting cold. I was surprised to learn that very few Indians know how to swim, so there were very few people going in (probably a wise decision considering that the currents are noticeably strong in the Bay of Bengal) and I had the beach largely to myself.
I have to say that I would not like to be a woman on a beach in India; when I went to a much busier beach where there were a few western women in bikinis, there were scores of Indian men just standing there shamelessly gawping. Nice 'n sleazy. They aren't entirely to blame though I suppose; as a result of the culture out here wherein most women are not supposed to show more than the bare minimum of skin, the poor guys are no doubt absurdly sex deprived. Then again, I suppose it isn't just the ladies that are victim to that kind of attention; at one point I was even offered 'public sex' by two gay Indian men who had been watching me sunbathing. Aand moving on..
One of the highlights of my stay was a whole day motorbike tour with a local Indian guy named Anamalai who is something like a state prosecutor. Claudine introduced me to him as we were invited to dinner with his family, and we spent a pleasant evening discussing politics (it was just before the immensely disappointing UK general election) in both of our countries, as well as local affairs and a common agreement that Daniel Craig just doesn't feel like James Bond. And where the hell is Q? His (and his mother's) hospitality was exemplary to the point that they got incredibly agitated when Claudine attempted to get up and take her plate to the kitchen. She at times had been a little pushy about 'fattening me up' so I was most amused to see her get a taste of her own medicine as they refused to hear her protests about not being hungry. The food was great too. A few days later, Anamalai invited me out on his bike for the day.
We saw a lot of places so I won't go into all of them, but of particular note was a backwater boat ride at Chunambar to the south of Pondy. I felt rather sorry for Ana as the poor guy was pretty nervous about the safety of the boat (like most Indians, he couldn't swim) but I think he nonetheless enjoyed it too, and he seemed to relax when I assured him that if he ended up in the water I would gallantly rescue him. The lush scenery surrounding the water was picturesque with beautifully white beaches at the meet with the sea and shady palm trees dotted around. One of the best things about it was that as it was well away from any roads, it was blissfully free of the normal Tamil Nadu soundtrack of engines and horns, with the only sounds being that of nature. There were also local fishermen standing knee deep in the water chatting while making their catches and wildlife all around. The overall effect was a remarkable feeling of peace and serenity, and the place will certainly linger in my memory.
In addition to Chunambar we saw a few temples, several lakes and plenty of the surrounding region, as well as a finale at a small nature park with a small number of animals and snakes, the highlight of which was a dozen or so beautifully vain peacocks. Lunch was a parcel takeaway of a huge number of spicy dishes which were eaten in front of one of the picturesque lakes we visited, and it was lovely to eat which watching the surface of the water teeming with life. Aside from my excursion with Ana I had done a fair amount of looking around myself and saw a good number of temples and churches in Pondy. Although I'm not really a temple person usually, some were very beautiful and it was fun getting blessed (tapped on the head with her trunk) by Lakshmi, the adorable temple elephant, in return for a coin at one of the larger temples.
In general my time spent at Pondy was very relaxed and laid back; I mostly just lapped up the sun, the sea and most of all the culture, which as I said is unlike anything I've seen anywhere else and is something you have to see to understand. During my stay I also created a rough plan of my future route through India, which would take me to a number of locations as I traveled north in a zigzag path, stopping at Agra to see the Taj Mahal and then making my way west to the sands of Rajasthan to finish my journey. I familiarized myself with the initially daunting Indian Rail booking system and eventually managed to book myself four trains which would take me most of the way to the north of India. As I said, the booking system at first seems overly complicated and can be a pain, but once you know what you're doing it's actually a pretty effective system.
I also got to ride a few local buses around which was an experience that I think is probably the closest you can get to an orgy without taking off your clothes. All the buses were filled to bursting and I had to fight my way both on and off. The biggest challenge I had was in knowing when to get off as when standing in the middle of the bus, you cannot see out to know where you are so have to just guess when to disembark. All in all though it was a fun experience and the buses were also very cheap. On one bus they were playing some Hindi music and I very nearly just shouted 'MOSH' and went for it. The locals probably wouldn't have seen the funny side of that one..
Although most of my time was spent in and around Pondy, I did also make a few excursions. I spent one day in the nearby town of Auroville, a social experiment wherein some 45 different nations united to form a new kind of town. The town itself is very nice and feels much more peaceful than Pondicherry. Although the majority of the town's inhabitants are Indian, there are people from many other countries around the world, with a large number of volunteers. After meeting one of the 'leaders' of the town I was invited to come to Auroville as a volunteer and even showed a pleasant hut where I could stay for a small fee. Although I had intended to go along for a few days I never did get round to it, but I did learn a bit more about the town from various sources. I got the impression more and more from what I heard that although the town seemed very laid back, there was a good deal of tension bubbling beneath the surface. Still, it was a nice place and somewhere well worth the visit.
The other major trip I made was a two day visit to the town of Mamallapuram some two hours north of Pondicherry by bus, a journey I undertook along with a Spanish woman named Maria living above me who I'd met through Claudine. We checked into a very nice hotel that, although slightly more expensive than what I would have normally have gone for, was very pleasant and had a fantastic swimming pool which I spent most of the day in and out of. The sea was also close by and was again lovely albeit with strong rips and very strange wave patterns. The settlement was home to a host of beautiful temples as well as some caves and huge boulders. I didn't get a chance to see absolutely everything but had a good look around. The heat was oppressive and the water beautiful but my walk around revealed some impressive sights so I was glad I made the effort. Once again one of the nicest things about the small town was that it was far quieter than Pondicherry and brought home just how much noise there was back in Pondy.
In total I spent just over a month in and around Pondicherry, slightly longer than I had intended, but my lifestyle was simply so relaxed and cushy that it was hard to gear myself up to move on. Claudine had been wonderful in putting me up for so long, so I was incredibly grateful to her for all of her kindness. With everything booked and ready, I got a sleeper bus overnight to Bangalore on the 8th June. There was a bit of a ruckus right as I was about to leave as there was some kind of accident involving the bus I would have been taking so I had to wait an extra hour before taking a bus from a different company. However after getting through the initial fuss it proved to be to my advantage as the new bus was somewhat more comfortable than the one I had booked and was even some Rs20 cheaper. I finally got on board, waved Claudine, Maria and Pondicherry farewell and settled in for the eight hour trip back west to Bangalore.
Travel, Bangalore and the Monsoon
The bus journey from Bombay to Bangalore was not as bad as I had expected, so by the time we finally arrived the following afternoon in Bangalore I was feeling fairly fresh and ready to arrange the final leg of my first trip across the country. Once we were out of Bombay I was treated to a few recent Bollywood films, two out of three of which had English subtitles; so I was able to enjoy them thoroughly. I had never really watched any Bollywood films in the past so it was interesting to see how they are structured; the actors are liable to break into song at regular intervals, and although I don't really care for musicals, the songs were generally quite good. I was amused to see that in all of the films (all of which had a central love theme as part of the plot) they made no differentiation between love and lust. In fact when the main hero and heroines saw each other for the first time, it wasn't long in any of the films before one or both of them burst into song about how they were suddenly in love. The marriage culture is very strong here in India so I suppose these films are just another form of propoganda encouraging people to comform.
The bus stopped at a small service station at around 21:00 so I was able to get some noodles and chai before we were back on the bus with another movie loaded. The chap I was sitting next to spoke only very fractured English but we were able to have some limited conversation, so the journey was kept fairly interesting. A little before midnight there was a colossal lightning storm with torrential rain which lasted until the early hours. After another short stop at a larger service station in the morning where I had the dubious experience of using my first Indian toilet (after which I will now be strictly following the practice of using only my right hand) and enjoying a few breakfast items which I again have no idea as to the ingredients or name of, we once again got comfortable for the last stretch to Bangalore.
When I arrived in Bangalore the first thing that hit me was the smell, a gag inducing combination of urine, vomit and dead rat. Yeah it was pretty nasty stuff. After I had got my bearings and something to eat it was already getting on towards 15:00 so I hastily took an autorickshaw to the main bus stand (known for some reason as 'Majestic') where after some investigating I learned there was an overnight bus scheduled to leave at 19:00 for Pondicherry. After waiting in line for a good 30 minutes I booked my seat and had a sit down in the shade to decide what to do in the time until I left. Seeing as it was already getting on and the main attractions were close to closing, I decided instead to have a wander round and try to find myself an internet cafe to wile away a few hours. Unlike in Bombay I was not confronted by a single tout, scammer or beggar, which went a long way towards making up for the smell. Although Bangalore is India's technological capital; known in fact as India's silicon valley; it actually took me a surprisingly long time to find myself a cyber cafe, and when I finally did it was a grubby back alley place with excruciatingly slow connections. No doubt I was just in the wrong part of the city.
Nonetheless after spending a few hours browsing the net and simultaneously charging up my MP3 player for the looming eight hour trip to Pondicherry, I sampled some of the delicious street food to fill my apetite and then set about finding my way to the specific bus station from which I would be departing. Just as I was making my way towards a few autorickshaws, the monsoon through which I had passed on my way here finally caught up with me and the heavens were well and truly opened. Now, as an Englishman I can claim somewhat reasonably to be accustomed to rain, but even I raised an eyebrow and the volume of rain that came down. I quickly found myself a richshaw (after turning down two and having a hard bartering session with the third) who drove me the 30 minutes through the flooding streets to the bus station, where after another 40 minute wait I boarded the bus.
During the few hours I had spent on the internet I had emailed Claudine, my friend in Pondy, the details of my arrival time as something somewhere around 03:00 and she had very kindly agreed to wait up for me. I was therefore incredibly frustrated when due to people arriving late the damn bus didn't leave until nearly two hours after it's scheduled departure time. I suppose it's nice that they didn't want to leave anyone behind but when someone was waiting up into the small hours for me I really wished they would get a bloody move on. Anyway we finally got going, and although it was much shorter, this leg of the trip was a lot less pleasant than the first on account of the fact that my seat unfortunately turned out to be right over the rear wheels, and with the nonexistant suspension of the vintage bus and the often poor road quality; I was constantly being thrown into the air making sleep almost impossible. Still, due to the rain it was at least relatively cool.
We finally arrived at 06:00 just as it was starting to get light. I quickly got an autorickshaw to the address I'd been given and, drenched (as it had been raining continually throughout the night as well as when I arrived) I finally arrived at my destination. Claudine, bless her, was waiting for me when I got out of the richshaw and quickly showed me in and after a brief chat I was able to crash out on a bed and get some much needed sleep.
The bus stopped at a small service station at around 21:00 so I was able to get some noodles and chai before we were back on the bus with another movie loaded. The chap I was sitting next to spoke only very fractured English but we were able to have some limited conversation, so the journey was kept fairly interesting. A little before midnight there was a colossal lightning storm with torrential rain which lasted until the early hours. After another short stop at a larger service station in the morning where I had the dubious experience of using my first Indian toilet (after which I will now be strictly following the practice of using only my right hand) and enjoying a few breakfast items which I again have no idea as to the ingredients or name of, we once again got comfortable for the last stretch to Bangalore.
When I arrived in Bangalore the first thing that hit me was the smell, a gag inducing combination of urine, vomit and dead rat. Yeah it was pretty nasty stuff. After I had got my bearings and something to eat it was already getting on towards 15:00 so I hastily took an autorickshaw to the main bus stand (known for some reason as 'Majestic') where after some investigating I learned there was an overnight bus scheduled to leave at 19:00 for Pondicherry. After waiting in line for a good 30 minutes I booked my seat and had a sit down in the shade to decide what to do in the time until I left. Seeing as it was already getting on and the main attractions were close to closing, I decided instead to have a wander round and try to find myself an internet cafe to wile away a few hours. Unlike in Bombay I was not confronted by a single tout, scammer or beggar, which went a long way towards making up for the smell. Although Bangalore is India's technological capital; known in fact as India's silicon valley; it actually took me a surprisingly long time to find myself a cyber cafe, and when I finally did it was a grubby back alley place with excruciatingly slow connections. No doubt I was just in the wrong part of the city.
Nonetheless after spending a few hours browsing the net and simultaneously charging up my MP3 player for the looming eight hour trip to Pondicherry, I sampled some of the delicious street food to fill my apetite and then set about finding my way to the specific bus station from which I would be departing. Just as I was making my way towards a few autorickshaws, the monsoon through which I had passed on my way here finally caught up with me and the heavens were well and truly opened. Now, as an Englishman I can claim somewhat reasonably to be accustomed to rain, but even I raised an eyebrow and the volume of rain that came down. I quickly found myself a richshaw (after turning down two and having a hard bartering session with the third) who drove me the 30 minutes through the flooding streets to the bus station, where after another 40 minute wait I boarded the bus.
During the few hours I had spent on the internet I had emailed Claudine, my friend in Pondy, the details of my arrival time as something somewhere around 03:00 and she had very kindly agreed to wait up for me. I was therefore incredibly frustrated when due to people arriving late the damn bus didn't leave until nearly two hours after it's scheduled departure time. I suppose it's nice that they didn't want to leave anyone behind but when someone was waiting up into the small hours for me I really wished they would get a bloody move on. Anyway we finally got going, and although it was much shorter, this leg of the trip was a lot less pleasant than the first on account of the fact that my seat unfortunately turned out to be right over the rear wheels, and with the nonexistant suspension of the vintage bus and the often poor road quality; I was constantly being thrown into the air making sleep almost impossible. Still, due to the rain it was at least relatively cool.
We finally arrived at 06:00 just as it was starting to get light. I quickly got an autorickshaw to the address I'd been given and, drenched (as it had been raining continually throughout the night as well as when I arrived) I finally arrived at my destination. Claudine, bless her, was waiting for me when I got out of the richshaw and quickly showed me in and after a brief chat I was able to crash out on a bed and get some much needed sleep.
Thursday, 20 May 2010
Bombay
Because my sleeping pattern had been so messed up, I was up fairly early and after another beautiful shower and some reorganizing of my backpack, I headed outside into the abusive heat with a lot to do. Particularly because the heat and humidity was so much worse than I had anticipated, and also because Bombay is much more expensive than most of the rest of India; I was keen to leave quickly on my way to Pondicherry on the south-west coast, where I had a friend and free accomodation waiting. I figured this would be the best way to start as acclimitizing would be far more comfortable if I had a relaxing base. My plan was to get an overnight sleeper train accross the country to Madras (a 23-29 hour trip depending on train) and then get a two hour bus south to Pondy. I had attempted to reserve myself a seat a few days before leaving England but the trains had been largely booked up, the best I could find was to be put on the waiting list for a train leaving in the evening; 10 people needed to cancel their tickets in order for me to get one but I had heard this was not entirely unlikley so remained hopeful about my chances.
The first thing for me to do therefore was to find an internet cafe from where to check my emails to see if I was down for a ticket. It was harder than I expected to find a place, but after having a nice walk around and seeing off numerous local touts prowling for tourist rupees I was finally able to establish that I had still not made it past the waiting list and was thus somewhat screwed. I was a little overwhelmed by the size, heat and bustle of the city so figured the best thing I could do was to make my way down to the central train station and see what I could arrange, as trying to sort out tickets on the internet was proving something of a nightmare. I got myself a taxi to the station and ended up going to one of the many travel companies littered around the place. Unfortunately all trains other than first class (too expensive) and general second class seater (too crowded for a long trip) were fully booked, so in the end I opted for an A/C semi-sleeper bus to Bangalore, slightly further away than Pondicherry than Madras but nonetheless within a bus journey. The bus left at around 1800 so I had the whole day to have a look around Bombay.
Rather than attempt to navigate my way around the megopolis in my still rather dazed state, I eventually found a decent tour with a friendly Sikh taxi driver who spoke good English and had a seriously impressive beard. I hadn't planned on a tour but figured it would be a shame to leave Bombay without having a good look around. The tour lasted around 5 hours and was every bit as dizzying as my taxi ride had been the day before. Once again, I saw far more than I can give an account of, but some of the highlights were a particularly impressive Jain temple, the Hanging Gardens and the famous Gates of India. Watching incredibly poor Indian men and women wash hundreds of clothes in huge tubs of soapy water; no doubt agonizingly hard work in the unbearable heat, is something that really makes you reevaluate your perspectives. The poverty I saw on the first day was again very apparant; as was the contrast between the rich and poor here, and my taxi driver explained with a clear ring of rage and resentment just how well some of the richer Indians live.
The temples were all beautifully lavish and artistic, and although I am certainly not religous I did enjoy the ambience in most of the places I visited; they had a very relaxed air and were inexplicably cool for lack of any A/C or fans. Perhaps the cooler temperature in the temples is the reason for the popularity of religion in India, heh. My tour included the expected visit to a not so toury spot; in my case an Indian tailors (many tour guides have arrangements with shops wherein they get a commission if any toursists make purchases) where I was dutifully shown around before assuring the man that although I wasn't making any purchases, I would come back at a later date if I had the chance. Of course, I may not get the chance; things to do and all that.
As I said I had a huge number of scam and extortion attempts thrown at me in the course of the day as my tour guide left me to look around by myself and thus making me presumably look like easy pickings. At the Gates of India in particular I was subject to some highly amusing attempts. I refrained from giving money out in general but there was one case where I did give the kid something just for making me laugh. While wandering around the Gates a smiling Indian boy approached me and after asking where I was from etc. told me a a good deal about the history of the Gates of India. As it was actually pretty detailed, after he had finished I started getting out ten rupees to give him. However the boy shook his head and insisted that he was a friend and didn't want money. He then suggested that if I wanted to help I could buy some baby milk for his young sister. Thinking this seemed reasonable I went with him to a conveniently located little stall nearby which sold the stuff. Heh, Rs200 for a small tin of it. To be fair to the kid and his accomplice at the stall, they both smiled good naturedly when I burst out laughing at the price. In the end I gave the kid Rs20 for the show.
I hadn't eaten the previous night so was eager for my first taste of Indian food, and I was not disappointed. Although I have no idea what exactly it was I was eating, the assortment of various foods which a small place at the Hanging Gardens prepared for me were incredibly rich in flavour; by comparison most British food seems rather bland. Apart from you know.. bacon. By the time my tour was done I had just under an hour to kill before my bus left, so after having a bit more of a wander round and having a man try to take me for Rs20 for using the public toilets (not that I need have bothered; most men here seem to feel they have the God given right to urinate on any wall they like regardless of the proximity of other people); I finally fought my way past the hordes of touts and scammers nested by the bus stand and embarked my bus. All in all it was a successful first day, the only slight damper was that I discovered to my chagrin that I had been ripped off by the travel agency for Rs300 more than the price of the ticket should have been. Still, for my first day and considering I was operating at well below 100% due to the heat; it could have been far worse and the loss of just under five pounds will serve as a very good lesson for the future and I will certainly be much more careful in the future.
Having successfully arranged transport out of Bombay and having done a good day's sightseeing, I got to see more of the outskirts of the city as the bus took several hours to leave the last remnants of Bombay behind. Fortunately I was able to get the window seat, so I settled in and got comfortable for a long 20 hour trip.
The first thing for me to do therefore was to find an internet cafe from where to check my emails to see if I was down for a ticket. It was harder than I expected to find a place, but after having a nice walk around and seeing off numerous local touts prowling for tourist rupees I was finally able to establish that I had still not made it past the waiting list and was thus somewhat screwed. I was a little overwhelmed by the size, heat and bustle of the city so figured the best thing I could do was to make my way down to the central train station and see what I could arrange, as trying to sort out tickets on the internet was proving something of a nightmare. I got myself a taxi to the station and ended up going to one of the many travel companies littered around the place. Unfortunately all trains other than first class (too expensive) and general second class seater (too crowded for a long trip) were fully booked, so in the end I opted for an A/C semi-sleeper bus to Bangalore, slightly further away than Pondicherry than Madras but nonetheless within a bus journey. The bus left at around 1800 so I had the whole day to have a look around Bombay.
Rather than attempt to navigate my way around the megopolis in my still rather dazed state, I eventually found a decent tour with a friendly Sikh taxi driver who spoke good English and had a seriously impressive beard. I hadn't planned on a tour but figured it would be a shame to leave Bombay without having a good look around. The tour lasted around 5 hours and was every bit as dizzying as my taxi ride had been the day before. Once again, I saw far more than I can give an account of, but some of the highlights were a particularly impressive Jain temple, the Hanging Gardens and the famous Gates of India. Watching incredibly poor Indian men and women wash hundreds of clothes in huge tubs of soapy water; no doubt agonizingly hard work in the unbearable heat, is something that really makes you reevaluate your perspectives. The poverty I saw on the first day was again very apparant; as was the contrast between the rich and poor here, and my taxi driver explained with a clear ring of rage and resentment just how well some of the richer Indians live.
The temples were all beautifully lavish and artistic, and although I am certainly not religous I did enjoy the ambience in most of the places I visited; they had a very relaxed air and were inexplicably cool for lack of any A/C or fans. Perhaps the cooler temperature in the temples is the reason for the popularity of religion in India, heh. My tour included the expected visit to a not so toury spot; in my case an Indian tailors (many tour guides have arrangements with shops wherein they get a commission if any toursists make purchases) where I was dutifully shown around before assuring the man that although I wasn't making any purchases, I would come back at a later date if I had the chance. Of course, I may not get the chance; things to do and all that.
As I said I had a huge number of scam and extortion attempts thrown at me in the course of the day as my tour guide left me to look around by myself and thus making me presumably look like easy pickings. At the Gates of India in particular I was subject to some highly amusing attempts. I refrained from giving money out in general but there was one case where I did give the kid something just for making me laugh. While wandering around the Gates a smiling Indian boy approached me and after asking where I was from etc. told me a a good deal about the history of the Gates of India. As it was actually pretty detailed, after he had finished I started getting out ten rupees to give him. However the boy shook his head and insisted that he was a friend and didn't want money. He then suggested that if I wanted to help I could buy some baby milk for his young sister. Thinking this seemed reasonable I went with him to a conveniently located little stall nearby which sold the stuff. Heh, Rs200 for a small tin of it. To be fair to the kid and his accomplice at the stall, they both smiled good naturedly when I burst out laughing at the price. In the end I gave the kid Rs20 for the show.
I hadn't eaten the previous night so was eager for my first taste of Indian food, and I was not disappointed. Although I have no idea what exactly it was I was eating, the assortment of various foods which a small place at the Hanging Gardens prepared for me were incredibly rich in flavour; by comparison most British food seems rather bland. Apart from you know.. bacon. By the time my tour was done I had just under an hour to kill before my bus left, so after having a bit more of a wander round and having a man try to take me for Rs20 for using the public toilets (not that I need have bothered; most men here seem to feel they have the God given right to urinate on any wall they like regardless of the proximity of other people); I finally fought my way past the hordes of touts and scammers nested by the bus stand and embarked my bus. All in all it was a successful first day, the only slight damper was that I discovered to my chagrin that I had been ripped off by the travel agency for Rs300 more than the price of the ticket should have been. Still, for my first day and considering I was operating at well below 100% due to the heat; it could have been far worse and the loss of just under five pounds will serve as a very good lesson for the future and I will certainly be much more careful in the future.
Having successfully arranged transport out of Bombay and having done a good day's sightseeing, I got to see more of the outskirts of the city as the bus took several hours to leave the last remnants of Bombay behind. Fortunately I was able to get the window seat, so I settled in and got comfortable for a long 20 hour trip.
Friday, 14 May 2010
Commencement
It had been many years in coming, but when I finally stepped out of the front door with only my rucksack and the knowledge that I wouldn't be home for at least three months, it was all something of a blur. Saying goodbye to my family was equally strange, and the mother's tears didn't make things any easier. Not that I hadn't expected it mind you. The journey to Heathrow was reassuringly smooth, and it wasn't long before I was checking in my bag, bidding my father adieu and taking the first few solo steps on my journey.
I only had a few short hours to wait at the airport and it wasn't long before I was boarding the Oman Air plane that would be taking me some 3700 miles to Muscat, Oman. The plane was fairly comfortable and had a few decent movies showing including Avatar, which I had been meaning to see for some time; it was all in all a good start.
I was surprised to find that the first really impressive sight of my trip actually came before leaving British airspace; it was a cloudless night and with the full moon, London was breathtaking from above. As ugly as motorways are when you're driving on them, from the sky they were sensationally lit up; it really looked like there were rivers of light flowing around the city. Impressive stuff. The flight was fine although I wasn't able to get much sleep, but rather watched Avatar and spent a few hours chatting with a Indian born chap from Leeds on his way to Goa. There were some really nice views of Oman; the landscape was barren with huge rolling brown hills dotted around, and Muscat was also eye opening. We landed at around 10:00 local time and even the few minutes in transit between the plane and terminal were enough to impress upon me just how hot India was going to be. Sweltering.
Fortunately I only had to wait for a couple of hours in Muscat before getting back on the plane for the final few hours to Bombay India. Unfortunately I did not have a window seat so I wasn't able to see much of the city as I landed, but I was given an early taste of what was in store for me during the in-flight meal. Lurking inside my curry was an extremely hot chilli which was sufficient to blow my head off but fortunately not enough to make me ill. By the time the plane touched down in Bombay at around 15:00 local time I was having to fight not to fall asleep, and so planned to find myself a hotel quickly and snatch some sleep. After clearing customs and getting some money exchanged I ordered my pre-paid taxi to Collaba, a part of Bombay where the guide book told me I would find a number of decent budget hotels. Well, the first thought upon stepping out of the air conditioned airport was something along the lines of 'bloody hell it's hot'. I had expected it to be far too hot, but I was nonetheless taken somewhat unawares by just how brutal it was. The humidity too was painfully high so I was sweating within a few steps.
I managed to find my taxi (after some 'helpful' Indians had kindly pointed it out to me and placed my bag inside before demanding Rs100 for their services, and getting 10). The taxi was a very basic affair, and it soon became clear to me why it didn't have wing mirrors. Traffic in Bombay was the most insane thing I have ever seen, with cars threading and weaving in between each other with barely inches to spare. The horn is king, and hugely overused. That taxi ride was something I will never really forget, taking something like two hours to reach it's destination. I could never come close to describing everything I saw on that journey but it was absolutely incredible. In the north of Bombay the level of poverty was humbling; hundreds of tiny shacks sprawling right up to the roadside, people sleeping on the pavement and beggers everywhere. When the taxi stopped in one of the numerous jams, a girl of no more than 7 approached me asking for rupees; and all over there were people approaching cars hawking wares from electronics to books and water.
As I said the traffic was insanity, at one point there was a four way junction without traffic lights where there were literally cars driving directly towards each other, with 3-4 lanes of cars driving in each direction; with the cars slowly trickling through. I was amazed that there hadn't been a major pile up, but I suspect that low speed collisions are common; most cars I saw had numerous small bumps and scratches along the bodywork. Despite the pleasant breeze coming in through the open windows, I was drenched in sweat by the time we finally arrived at my destination; a small hotel where I was able to get a cheap room for the night, which was basic but clean. After having undoubtedly the best (cold) shower of my life, I turned the fan on full, threw in my earplugs to drown out the constant beeping of various car horns, and finally got some sleep, some four and a half thousand miles from home and ready to start what I hoped would be at least a memorable three months.
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