Day 95 - Varkala, India

Day 95 – His.

 

 Ah Varkala, Jewel of the West Indian seaboard. What can one say about this place? It is a seaside resort. But unfortunately the kind of resort you find in the holiday brochures of every travel agent in the world. Particularly in Russia if the clientele of our hotel is anything to go by. If you like getting drunk until four in the morning, sleeping on the beach until it’s time for dinner, eating and then going back out on the drink then the place is perfect. If that is not your kind of thing then there is very little to do.

Patti and I went for a three hour walk along the beach, peering under rocks and into mosques and temples. Patti told me that the water was quite warm so I agreed to join her to splash around a bit.  It was amazingly warm but the undertow was horrific, so we continued on.  We took note of the odd construction of the fishing boats and watched the local fishermen untangle their nets over a lime soda and sweated our way along tiny backstreets and palm shaded walkways where no tourist goes. We knew this because the locals were actually quite friendly and just wanted to chat instead of asking where we were from as a prelude to trying to sell us something.

We saw the hospital, helipad, shores and bays, two mosques, a Hindu temple, old fishing villages, new hotels under construction and a taxi driver that held my hand for half an hour as he chatted about motor design. We got back to the hotel hot, sweaty and dusty and went to the swimming pool where we met some of the rest of our group who were just getting up – they were the kind who loved getting drunk until four – one of the girls – a Brit, i hate to say, even met a Scots guy in the pub and went with him for a midnight tryst on the beach. Well, that’s being poetic – it was more like four in the morning and apparently she threw up over him – the rumour mill is wonderful in these kinds of environments. Still, only four more days of this group and i will miss half of them – the other half, not so much.

It is mildly surprising how doing not very much can eat away your day. After our breakfast, walk, swim and short read it was time to get together with the group to find out what we are doing tomorrow – it seems we are to get up at half five in the morning to take the train to our next destination so dinner to a sunset over the Arabian sea and an early bed seems called for.

Days 93 - 94 Madurai to Varkala, India

Days 93 - 94 Hers.

 

We spent our last evening in Maurai in the hotel lobby – a bit weird, but actually the hotel restaurant had fantastic south Indian food at a very reasonable price, free wifi, and there was nothing we could do with our luggage before our 11pm train.

We loaded everything on the bus at 9:30 and set off for the train station.  Our overnight train was a bit different this time – we had first class carriages that only had 4 bunks to a cabin instead of 6 – and lockable doors.  This should have enabled us to get a good night’s sleep – and Rob climbed into his top bunk as the train set off and reportedly slept like a log.  His only difficulty was that – because no sheets were provided – he stuck a bit to the vinyl bed as he turned over, a minor inconvenience.  I had rather a different night.  There was a mouse in our carriage – only one, not like the eight mice chasing innumerable cockroaches last time – but not long after I had settled to sleep, it ran over my feet.  I curled up as small as I could and spent the rest of the night trying to convince myself it wouldn’t happen again.  Clearly some part of me wasn’t convinced.  I got almost no sleep and arrived at Varkala station in a complete daze.

Varkala is a jungle seaside resort strung out on a cliff overlooking a lovely beach on the Arabian Sea.  It is quite busy – full of Western tourists (Russians, Germans, Swedes, etc. etc.) – with many shops and cafes and steps leading down to a postcard worthy beach that got quite crowded this afternoon.  We took tuk tuks from the station to our hotel which seems pleasant enough – swimming pool, restaurant, jungle surroundings and a short walk down a strange path through other hotel properties, back entrances to massage parlours and a restaurant kitchen to get to the beach.  We couldn’t get into our rooms right away so we had coffee -which was served in a pot and turned out to be four coffees for the price of one - and then strolled along the clifftop path looking at the shops and choosing a restaurant to return to for dinner.

At 11:00, we got our rooms, stripped off and went to sleep for four hours – a bit of a waste of a sunny day in a lovely location, but I just wasn’t fit for anything else!  When we emerged, we had a swim in the pool, showered and headed back along clifftop path, just in time for sunset.

Dinner was pizza and cheesecake – not at all Indian, I know, but I had been hungry for cheese since Nepal (or maybe even Cambodia) and it was delicious......maybe not quite the same as you’d get at home, but close enough to quell the cravings!  We had another short stroll after dinner and then retired to our little balcony to read until bed, accompanied by the Muslim calls to prayer and Hindu festival procession going by.

Day 93 - Madurai, India

Day 93 – His.

 

Indian towns are crazy places and this is best experienced on the back of a cyclo rikshaw or tuk tuk and today included both. We got up today to a traditional Indian breakfast of various light curries and spiced breads which included something called a Dosai. A Dosai, it turns out, is a large rice flour pancake. When I say large I mean it. This thing is about the size of a table and thin and rolled up. It was interesting as was the rest of the breakfast. Patti loved it. Me, I think I would have preferred cornflakes but sometimes I can be hideously unadventurous.

Because most of us were going to the temple – and it is an included tour, we got the bus to town – leaving two behind who, quite frankly, had just had enough. From now on, it seems, their idea of an Indian holiday is going to be staying in their rooms watching HBO. It just goes to show how wearing and different India really is. I know I am blowing my own trumpet here a little bit – but, India is not for the feint of heart.

So, we set off on a hired bus for the temple Meenakshi – one of the re-incarnations of  Parvati – the consort of Shiva. Apparently the temple is one of the finest examples of Dravidian architecture. This is something I was told. What I can tell you is – it was amazing. The place is huge and monolithic and the statues – of which, it is said, there are 33 million – are brightly painted. It looks like an enormous fimo palace and it is lively. We wandered around for about three hours gawping at the hall of a thousand pillars – apparently there are only 984 but they wheel out 16 wooden ones for special occasions – The museum displays, the ritual pools, the shrines and the flower markets. Truly spectacular and not really something anybody outside of the Hindu faith is really aware of.

After the temple, our guide had arranged a cyclo rikshaw ride through the streets of Madurai. This is one hell of a way to see the city. With the cover down and ten cyclos in a line it felt like a visit of royalty. People would stop what they were doing and gawp at us as we passed, unsure what was going on. Most of them decided we were visiting dignitaries and stopped to wave and yell out – ‘welcome to India’, while crowds of children ran after us – smiling and waving got a bit tiresome after a while. The streets we rode through really were the little everyday streets of the town with brightly coloured walls and powdered stone designs on each and every step we passed. We stopped off at a banana market, laundry, bamboo market, blacksmiths and cotton mill to see the people at work and wonder at their enterprise and industry. It really is no wonder why these guys are overtaking the west. A similar tour around a western town would reveal little activity, an awful lot of moaning and more than a few with their hands out for government money. I know I am going on a bit here but, we seriously could learn a lesson or two from these people.

Anyhow, we certainly saw the town. After that we left the group and wandered around on foot for a while until we caught a tuk tuk back to the hotel. We are due out on a night train tonight for a seaside town and little village of uncertain electric supply and dubious internet connection so we are going to have dinner and do a little snack shopping!

Day 92 - Pondicherry to Madurai, India

Day 92 – Hers

It’s a bit of a shame that all we saw of Pondicherry yesterday was one windswept street in the French colonial quarter, a few streets of shops shuttered against the cyclone and flooded from the heavy rain and the inside of our ‘Heritage’ hotel – for ‘Heritage’, read old, leaky and lacking any amenities..... We had been told that it was a lovely small city – and it was a bit disappointing.  The cyclone actually hit landfall back in Mallapuram where we had been yesterday morning – so we even missed out on that experience. Never mind – I had hoped that we might at least drive through a bit more of the town on the way to the train station this morning – but after breakfast we just loaded up the bus and drove straight out of town to Villapuram where we caught the train to Madurai. At least it wasn’t raining!

We had for some reason been booked in sleeper carriages – and the Indian couple in our carriage decided to stretch out and sleep on the bottom bunks.  Rob and TJ, who had been given top bunks were okay – they just climbed up. Lisle and I had a bit of a problem – we were assigned middle bunks: the ones that are folded up for daylight travel. Lisle moved over to the aisle bunks with Kylie and Sam, which left me having to squash myself into an uncomfortable corner in between a stretched out Indian woman and a metal ladder.  I couldn’t see out the window – so I can’t comment on the scenery – but I think it was mainly rice paddies, sugar cane and groves of coconut palms.  I just read my book, occasionally trying to shift position enough that my bum didn’t go numb.

After 5 hours, I asked Rob to trade with me and I climbed up to the top bunk where I could at least stretch out a bit.  Apparently our guide had bought a bottle of rum that he passed around the drinkers in the group down at the other end of the train – they became quite merry and I think one girl promised herself in marriage to one of the stewards on the train.... whatever.

We were met by a velvet lined (and mosquito infested) tour bus at Madrai station and delivered to our hotel which is on the outskirts – but has all the amenities our last two hotels were lacking: clean sheets and bathrooms and wifi being the most important.  I straight away sat in the lobby making sure all my family in NY made it through Hurricane Sandy and notifying them that we survived Cyclone Nilam.  Perhaps we should all communicate via The Weather Channel.......

 

Day 92 – His.

After settling in to the hotel we were supposed to get together for dinner. To be honest we are a bit tired of our group and wanted to go it alone. Three others had similar feelings so we went off to town to eat. (We later found out the rest of the group seems to consider the five of us as snobs – fair enough – I think they are drunks and children.)

Dinner was on a rooftop hotel, so the setting was good, the food pleasant and the service appalling. It took ages to get our food and we only got served after we had complained to the manager. Ah well, sometimes bad things happen to nice people! We got back to the hotel via tuk tuks and a hair raising dash through the traffic. The tuk tuk drivers really bring meaning to the phrase – bat out of hell. All in all a bit of a tiresome day but then it was a travel day and they are never the best.

 

Day 91 - Mallamapuram to Pondicherry, India - Cyclone Nilam

Day 91 – His

 

We managed to get coffee this morning in only 5 minutes. That might not sound like a lot but yesterday when we tried it took over an hour. That seemed to define the quality of the day. It was mostly efficient and lived up to expectations but then the expectations weren’t very high. We are due to be hit by cyclone Nilam later today and everybody is hunkering down. We set off from Mallamapurham at around nine and drove to Auroville.

Auroville is a kind of aging hippies’ dream that has lost its way. It was started in the sixties by some swami and his ‘friend’ who insists on being called ‘the Mother’ and having everybody who comes to the place wanting to follow the way of the divine consciousness. For anywhere that espouses following divine consciousness it is always best to be a little circumspect – I find.

Anyway, despite the somewhat shaky philosophy that surrounds the place they managed to get the budget together to build some pretty impressive buildings. One in particular was a huge golden golf ball with a big marble in the middle of it that you sit in front of and contemplate your navel. But only if you book weeks in advance and give them half your salary.

Still, it didn’t disappoint me – but then as I said my expectations weren’t high. The trip there was mostly to satisfy tourists and what i wanted to do was spend a few hours looking at their water recycling plant and a few of their alternative energy experiments – but as i was the only one who wanted to do that i think the chances were pretty small.

Of course it rained. And heavily, and it has just rained and rained and rained. Dennis, our new guide – arranged a lunch for us – which was just about the best laid on dinner we have had. From there we drove into Pondicherry and pulled over at the beach to watch the approaching cyclone pushing the waves over the breakwaters and into the town.

The rain absolutely soaked us through and as Pondicherry is on high alert, our guide has told us we need to forget about going into town tonight and expect to sit in our hotels until the storm has passed. So we all went down to the local market to shop for fruit and snacks and prepared ourselves for a pounding by the weather.

So most of the late afternoon was spent in the hotel foyer playing cards and scrabble, drinking rum and chatting as we waited. As it happens the storm hit 80 miles to the north of us – in Mallapuram as it happens – just where we were this morning – but we were relatively safe – quite an anti climax – ah well at least we aren’t as badly off as the new Yorkers and hurricane Sandy.

Day 90 - Mallamapuram, India

Day 90 – Hers.

 

We awoke at 7:30 to solid and steady rain – tropical rainstorm rain, soak through your jacket to the skin-type rain, the same as we had the morning we went to see Ankhor Wat.  After breakfast in the hotel’s restaurant (a rather lengthy affair – it took an hour and a quarter to get a cup of coffee and two pieces of toast), we were meant to have a walking tour of the World Heritage Site temples and carvings that are Mallapuram’s claim to fame.  Dennis arranged minibuses to allow the tour to go ahead – but we didn’t really get the full explanations – nor many spectacular photographs – because of the heavy rain.  The temples and carvings are quite amazing – most completed in the 4^th-8^th centuries when Mallapuram was a major trading port – and many carved as ‘caves’ into solid granite outcrops.  We saw five different sites – my favourite was the ‘5 carriages’ temples which had huge carved animals, so lifelike that they could almost have been strolling amongst the temples, each animal and temple carved from one monolithic piece of granite.  The original plan had been to return for lunch and then hire cycles to go to one more site – the ‘Tiger cave’, yet another temple carved from yet another massive piece of granite, but in the end, Dennis just took us there as part of the morning tour.  Just as well, really, the rain didn’t let up at all until well into the evening.

We lunched at another local restaurant that messed up the orders and took forever to serve food that was edible but hardly fantastic – then found a grocery store to replenish our provisions.  We sloshed back to the hotel and peeled off our soaking wet layers.....had a quick shower (cold again, ugh) and then spent the rest of the afternoon reading. 

We didn’t feel like another meal of only passable standard, so ate some of the things we had bought in the shop for our dinner. Many of our group went out to hit the beer this evening.  We passed on that, thanks, but went out for coffee with Caroline – the chatty Texan – and met two other travellers with whom we swapped travellers’ tales and tips. After that we just chilled by candlelight (the power was out again....) until it was time for bed.

Day 89 - Udaipur, Mumbai, Chennai, Mallamapuram (India)

Day 89 – His

 

So, the Northern Indian part of our trip is finished and we head off to Southern India today. The main significance of this is that we have to get up at 4 in the morning and I am never good in the mornings and particularly so if I have to get up before the sun. We have to get up so early because our flight is at 7:15.

A half hour taxi ride in an old style Indian car and a hug goodbye for our tour guide got us as far as the airport door. The Indians are obsessed with security. We could only get into the airport if we had a ticket, and three security checks later we were waiting for our plane. We had to pass a final check to actually board the plane. The flight itself was two short hops with a 3 hour layover in between at Mumbai – which is quite near Bombay – I believe.

We arrived at Chennai (Madras) at one and wandered out to meet our tour guide and board a bus for an hour and a half drive to Mallamapura, a tiny seaside resort that resembles just about every other tiny seaside resort I have ever been to. The major difference is the number of beggars. We have been told and told not to give to beggars and those at Mallamapura seem particularly undeserving. We spotted an obviously druggy father pushing his kids at us to beg for food. At least he had the decency to look ashamed when I caught his eye.

To be honest I am tired and hungry. We got a snack on the plane but nothing else all day so I was being a bit grumpy – I must apologise to Patti tomorrow – or maybe when I have had something to eat.

 

Day 89 – Hers.

Our hotel is called ‘Sea Breezes’ and when we walked the block to the beach, it was quite obvious why – the wind off the Bay of Bengal nearly blew us straight back!  We spent about an hour strolling along the beach and around the town, then just chilled until our group meeting at 6pm. Sam came and joined us at about 5:30 – we all agreed that we were so hungry that as soon as the meeting finished, the three of us would dash off to a restaurant, whatever the others were doing.  A group dinner for 18 (What happened to Gecko’s assurance of never more than 16 in a group?) takes forever and we were just too hungry to wait.

We lost three group members in Udaipur and have gained 5 – two English girls, an Australian couple roughly our age and an Australian guy we met in Varanasi a couple of weeks ago who travelled independently to Mumbai and now seems to have decided another tour would be more fun.

The meeting finished – it was the usual bit about insurance details, safety warnings and (thank goodness) set arrangements for the tipping kitty - and we dashed around the corner to a restaurant mentioned in both Lonely Planet and Tripadvisor.  Ten minutes later, the whole group turned up at the same restaurant....a little embarrassing, but we made sure we got our orders in quickly – and the food was delicious.  Another pleasant surprise was the price – easily less than half what we have been paying in Northern India.

Feeling human again, we returned to the hotel – just in time for the third power cut since our arrival.  We dug out our headlamps, sorted a mosquito coil and sat on our little terrace, reading until it was time for bed.