food – Page 3 – Travels

Could it be the end?

Posted on November 2, 2015 by Steve

It seems like months ago that I arrived in India, in fact it was 7 weeks. The Sheila met me in Delhi 2 weeks ago and here we are, about to leave.

We have arrived back in Chennai for a flight to Kuala Lumpur tomorrow morning and had an auto driver take us to a hotel near the airport so we didn’t have to travel far at 0600hrs.

Of course the last night in India is true Indian style. The overpriced hotel is in one of the worst streets I have seen in a while and the promised wifi has been limited because, as the manager put it ‘someone had many movies downloaded’. So we move to their ‘annexure’, same hotel but a couple of doors down the same bad street and the wifi works.

By bad street I do not mean unsafe, just that it was muddy and wet and crowded and grotty with no decent shops. But there was a cool market just around the corner that had some fantastic stuff like this:

This delightful piece is a backpack that I think is meant to be kind of like but not quite Mickey Mouse so that it doesn’t infringe copyright. Not intentionally of course. Who buys this shit?

We did find one veg restaurant after a bit of searching and after much comedic mime and signing trying to figure out what was on the menu we settled on an Aloo Mutter Paneer (Potato and pea with cottage cheese) curry with a couple of naan. The total price was about Rs150 ($3) and it was one of the tastiest meals I had eaten.

Served on banana leaves on the plastic plates with no cutlery. This is not tourist stuff, this is a non-descript restaurant in a back street in Chennai.

This was an overnight transit stop so apart from bad backpacks and good food, we move on to Kulala Lumpur.

Farewell India!

Halloween, you’re doing it wrong. In fact it is a religious thing, unlikely they have heard of Halloween, lucky buggers.

She was being milked at the time and had the biggest horns of any water buffalo I had seen. Not a great photo, it was pretty dark and I didn’t want to flash it.

I loved the incredible range of doors, especially on temples.

Wandered into a toy store back in Kolkatta and they had the most incredible collection of old kids cars as well as other old toys.

Refusing to use ‘Pi’ in blog title

Posted on October 31, 2015 by Steve

We woke up to a miracle of well being on the day we planned to leave for Puducherry from Mahabalipuram. Perhaps it was because we have visited so many temples, maybe because I have patted so many cows, it could be modern medicine, who knows?

Sheila was feeling so back to normal, despite my suggestion we catch another taxi, she was happy to go by local bus.

The super deluxe coach from Mahabalipuram to Puducherry, this means it has decent seats.

The ultra deluxe coach from Mahabalipuram to Puducherry, this means it has decent seats.

Overnight train trips get you to your destination overnight, but you don’t get to see a lot. Daytime bus trips through rural India are another story. Salt harvesting, rice paddies, other unidentified crops, countless shrines and temples and on this trip, a real thrill to see wild flamingoes in a lake we passed.

Flamingo at Kuala Lumpur bird park for illustration purposes only

Lonely Planet had another win with the Park Guest House where every room has a balcony overlooking the Bay of Bengal. This place is run by the Sri Aurobindo ashram and the grounds are full of simple but beautiful pieces of art some of which are going to be replicated at home.

All over the place are posters of Sri Aurobindo and The Mother, a French woman who became his collaborator. There are lots of rules and even a curfew, but it was a great place to stay and see if Puducherry would scratch Sheila’s itch.

Of we set on foot in search of French influence. We didn’t get far before we fell victim to the ice cream shop just down the street at Alliance Francais. This was a good start.

The old map had lots of streets with French names. A newer map, and the streets themselves, had Indian names. The good start was tarnished a bit.

Before long Sheila was so well and in such rapture that she was salivating at all the Frenchiness ranging from buildings to food to faux gendarmes with non-faux firearms.

Puducherry police

There is a French embassy and to ice the cake of expectation, people actually speak French here. Sheila is in heaven and I have to conceded that I was wrong about Puducherry being as French as Nouméa I.e. not at all.

There was a rehearsal for a parade and the military guys were happy to pose, just look at the excitement on their faces

The cherry on top of the croissant was a wonderful meal in an almost French restaurant. My how the appetite has returned.

Delighted at our ‘French’ dinner, this makes me happy and life easier.

There was also a certain amount of wistfulness starting to creep in because our trip is ending . Puducherry is our last stop before heading back to Chennai for our flight to Malaysia. So we were lapping it up.

More Park Guest House art, broken terracotta pots.

More Park Guest House art, pieces from broken terracotta pots.

Of course there were Hindu temples, one particularly spectacular and another with what can only be described as an endearing performing elephant.

Hindu temple Puducherry

Temple ceiling

Place some money at the end of its trunk and it will touch you on the head to “bless” you. This is important enough to people to have them lining up and the elephant receiving enough coins to keep it supplied in croissants.

Elephant blessing

You can take the girl out of the Catholic Church but you can’t totally remove the church from the girl. So we visited some old churches and I scratched my head as Sheila, who had been a bit puzzled by the overt devotion of Hindus, crossed herself entering and leaving. Or maybe the scratching was from the elephant blessing.

Happy face electrical box bathing in rainbow

Happy face Catholic electrical box bathing in rainbow

Who knew that baby Jesus had male-pattern baldness, obviously inherited.

Continuing the series of military male models

I think you get the drift: there never was a Pondicherry zoo, but the French really were there and their influence remains. We had a lovely time and the truth is, there’s not a lot to write about, but plenty of pics of a relaxing couple of days.

Cutting firewood for the restaurant cooker, with an electric saw

Doctor doctor give me the news…

Posted on October 31, 2015 by Steve

Although I am generally writing posts a few days after the event I try to write it as though it is a live blog, hopefully you feel you are right here with us at Suradeep Hospital, Mamallpuram.

Suradeep Hospital, Mamallapuram

But before I get to the gory details let me back up, because the journey is as much fun as the destination, sometimes.

Although she wasn’t up to walking, eating or much else, The Sheila was so looking forward to heading south to Puducherry she worked out an itinerary that included a place I hadn’t heard of, Mamallapuram or Mahabalipuram as it is also known.

Digression: there is a trend to change all the colonial names back to either their original or to an Indian name e.g. Mumbai was Bombay, Chennai was Madras. This can be very confusing when you have two maps of a place and the streets have different names on each map.

We flew into Chennai early afternoon from Kolkata with The Sheila as sick as ever, if not worse. This being her part of the holiday I am saying “yes” to almost everything including “taxi, I am too sick for a bus”. Fair enough, it was Rs1,200 ($25) which is quite expensive by Indian standards but a) it was over an hour b) AC and c) random foreign tourist rate.

Research included finding a hotel in an inherited (and since passed on) Lonely Planet guide book. Our experience has been mixed with LP suggestions. Varanasi hotel was great, this one not so much. Huge room with AC, quite clean, quiet, but no screens on the windows and the bathroom was pretty grotty. This is especially important when you aren’t feeling well already.

You can see what a joyous event an Indian marriage is. This was at the celebration and photo shoot the night before the ceremony We were invited to attend the ceremony the next morning, unfortunately Sheila was too sick.

Sheila spent all that afternoon and evening in bed while I wandered what turned out to be quite a nice place. I’d say it started as a fishing village, but they have adapted to tourism really well. The streets are the cleanest I have seen in India, they hustle the itinerant touts and sellers out of the area and the shop keepers are quite friendly. Though behind their relaxed friendliness lurks the desire to hustle you into their shop.

The difference was that there wasn’t so much pressure to buy, just having a look was acceptable to many of them and I had some great conversations, especially with the owner of the first music shop I have seen. I kind of wanted a tabla, but they are so big to carry.

My uke meets its bigger and watt more complicated cousins

My uke meets its bigger and way more complicated cousins

By now Sheila hadn’t eaten for 3 days and she wasn’t responding to any treatment I found on the internet when searching for “sick in India”. While walking home that night I passed a hospital/clinic and we decided to go there in the morning.

Entrance to the hospital

As the parent of a doctor and a pseudo doctor myself I have an idea about the western standard of medical facilities, Suradeep Hospital didn’t come close, except by name. For once being foreign tourists worked to our advantage and we queue jumped lots of sick locals. A sweet woman doctor was seeing a steady stream of patients as well as handling the money and giving instructions to five or so nurses and assistants.

This photo gives an idea of the sad state of everything, patient included

She wants to do blood tests and rehydrate Sheila. Foreign Tourist advantage: some bloke, likely dying of malaria or worse, is kicked out of a small room and Sheila is put on a Sodium Lactate drip in the back streets of an Indian fishing village.

The beginning of a happy ending

It is almost as bad as you are imagining. No change of sheets on the bed between patients though a pillow is found (no pillowcase) and put under the sheet. They do use antiseptic but no gloves. There is a fan in the windowless room, but power has been erratic all morning. None of the staff speak English. And not a working Clown Doctor in sight.

Ummm…

Leaving her to her fate I am sent on a mission to find a better hotel. Though I don’t want to bore you with details, I will share the criteria so that I can get some of the sympathy you are feeling for Sheila.

Clean
Sea breeze
AC
Soft bed
Screened windows
WiFi
Reasonable price
Quiet
Hot water
Ground floor

This is pretty much mission impossible, but I say “yes” and head out. A couple of hours later, having checked out every hotel in town (10+) I am able to report back that from the list of requirements she can choose any 4 and a hotel would fit the bill. The only happy ending happening this day was that one hotel, Siva Guest House, just around the corner from our original, won the day. Oh how I wish I had noted the names of all the hotels in all my posts…sigh.

As they hook Sheila up to a second bottle, this time Sodium Chloride, I am despatched to move house. This place, though on the 3rd floor, has screens, wonderful breezes and a balcony. The promised WiFi is disappointing. Geeky friends, have you ever heard of a WiFi access point being visible to some devices but not others? I couldn’t figure it out. Didn’t matter, it was slow anyway.

Just before the hospital visit, doesn’t she look great? Nice beach though, cows included.

Just as I finish the final trip from the original hotel with all our luggage and am ready for a shower and a nap my phone rings, possibly the second time in India. Sheila is finished and while I am tempted to try my luck with some humour and say “just walk back to the old hotel, you’ll see me” I don’t tempt fate and instead say “see you in 5 minutes”.

It is too late to cut a long story short, but some tablets were handed over, blood results analysed (minor infection) and we chatted to the doctor who owns the clinic. She hadn’t had a break in over 25 years or so and treats poor people for free. Our bill came to Rs2,600 ($55) and we gave her Rs3,000 to pay for some medicine for someone who couldn’t afford it.

I am going to kill this tale by saying that Sheila ate something that night, first food in 4 days, and by the next morning she was almost back to normal having risen from what she was convinced was her death bed.

I knew she was better, we went shopping!!! We went walking!!! We continued shopping!!! We ate!!!! We went shopping some more!!!

Random photo to fill page: I found the burial site of Australia’s fast broadband network, outsourced of course.

Having bought some cushion covers the next mission was to find a matching textile for the back of the couch and we did. It was Rs2,500 according to the shop keeper. I have mentioned that Sheila is uncomfortable with me haggling. She figures we earn enough to pay full price and I suspect she is also worried about me offending people. But to me, and I think to the shop keepers it is a game that while there is an edge, can be loads of fun.

And so it was with this guy. We spent about half an hour bantering and batting back and forth and bemoaning the fact that our children wouldn’t be able to eat and we laughed and the price was coming down slowly. In fact we really wanted this piece but I knew better than to let on, we were going to leave and go and think about it…but if he gave it to us for our spending limit of Rs1,000 we would buy now.

The Rs1,000 spending limit was something I invented when I got a sniff he might sell for that. Back and forth we went, he even offered us chai, he acknowledged was enjoying the game, I was honoured but knew it was a ploy to weaken me. Fortuitously I had exactly Rs1,000 in my top pocket, I whipped it out, handed it to him and he laughed “better than nothing” and we had a deal. Not bad from a Rs2,500 start. Sheila softened the blow by not haggling for a pair of earrings.

Incredible some masons start with this and in about 6 weeks truth it into...

Incredible stone mason starts with this and in about 6 weeks turns it into…

The final result of the carver’s handiwork. I was truly in awe.

Rather than take a taxi, we head 100km to Puducherry by local bus. Rs60 Vs Rs2,000. This has been a long post, so that tale is still to come.

Hello again

Posted on October 19, 2015 by Steve

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Delicious Delhi

Posted on October 17, 2015 by Steve

The first four and a half weeks of my trip all had one purpose. To be in Delhi to meet The Sheila when she arrived from the US. We then get to spend a couple of weeks travelling together before heading home,

My timing had been perfect, I managed to arrive in Delhi on the 12th, determined that the hotel was of adequate standard for entry into India and re-entry into relationship, I even booked a car and driver to get to and from the airport. The incredibleness of Google technology* – did you know you can just type a flight number into search and it will give you the arrival time? – informed me that the plane was 30 minutes early and I arrived at the airport and was in position at the arrivals barrier just after the plane landed . *Conditions apply, as you will see^.

Why is it that India (and other places) try to make life so hard for people. Planes full of passengers are arriving and everyone needs to go through customs and immigration and then out to the world, usually with someone waiting to meet them. Instead of a single exit door where it is impossible to miss the arrivee, adding to the excitement of welcoming your loved one there is the tension of three exit doors and a desperate hope that you are standing at the right one. After watching for a few minutes I notice that 80% of people come out of one door so I find myself a spot and wait. And wait. And wait. After an hour of waiting I am not the slightest bit anxious (kidding), after 90 minutes I ask someone who comes out how long it takes to get through and he said about 30 minutes. I keep reminding myself “India time” but am going through scenarios of what to do next.

Of course, there is more than one happy ending that night and eventually, having had to deal with a malfunctioning fingerprint scanner, The Sheila emerged to something rare in India, a public display of affection. The ride home wasn’t too crazy (it was 2300hrs), the hotel was deemed perfect. Off to a great start.

Next day it was time to be tourists, in a different way for me a) I am not alone any more and b) where I am happy to rough it and be adventurous, The Sheila is likely to not be quite the same. I have a day planned, show her the baoli I have discovered and a temple I have heard about. I have used Google maps to work out the buses to catch, what can possibly go wrong^~? There is sufficient awe at architecture, fear at getting on and off buses that don’t quite come to a full stop and admonishment for walking along the road like the rest of the population, but fun is being had.

Off to the Gurdwara Rakab Ganj Sahib Sikh shrine (not quite the right word) I heard about from a couple of Americans the previous day. I have the bus stop name, we are approaching and the vagueness of whether the conductor and people meant “this stop” or “next stop” meant we miss the stop. Meh, not far to walk back. Serendipity time #1 for The Sheila.

We get off the bus and there is a line of people being handed a plate of food. I suggest we get some, “no it is for poor people” Sheila has already figured out. Some people notice our reluctance and invite us to have some food. A plate of curry and a couple of too hot to hold puris and we are ushered to the only two chairs (they kick a couple of guys off) and while I am kind of used to Honoured Guest status, Sheila gets initiated.

Honoured guest after less than 24hrs.

Best I could figure out was this was something to do with a current festival Navratri and the food was not for the poor, it was for everyone and it was really tasty. Again there is a request for a posing for photos, lots of laughter and we walk off shaking our heads in disbelief at our good fortune missing our bus stop.

HOT! puris, straight from oil to hand.

The yummy curry and a bloke who doesn’t mind being in a photo.

There are lots of temples and shrines in India. I mean LOTS. Just about every block will have a temple of some sort and there are smaller shrines all over the place. Approaching we can hear chanting and we take off our shoes a long way from the doors because no one else is wearing shoes. Up the stairs, I cover my head with provided ‘bandana’ and into a not huge space where the floor is covered by a soft carpet. No words are adequate and like most of these places, the photos don’t do justice. A steady stream of pilgrims come in and kneels before the shrine (you read the links above, right?) to do devotion. Meanwhile there is this small group of musicians alternating with a preacher every five minutes. We sat for quite a while, I found the place mesmerising, trying to work out the subtleties of the rituals (I didn’t), people watching and observing the protocols of the “guards”, bit they weren’t really guarding, it appeared more ceremonial.

Dammit, if someone can figure an easy way to upload videos I will add it here…grrr…

On the way out of the grounds there was quite a bit of coming and going from a hall. We asked what was going on, a wedding! If you ask to go in and look is it technically gate-crashing? We were invited to have our photo taken with the bride and groom and it seemed so bizarre we said no. I now regret breaking my “say yes” rule.

She looked soooo excited by what can only be described as an ordeal, a photo shoot with hundreds of people.

Again I am a few days behind and am considering declaring blog bankruptcy i.e. just skip a few days to catch up. But so much happens. I will instead use more photos than words.

Don’t know the story, they were outside the temple. Maybe associated with the wedding…to remain a mystery

^ We had spent the day hopping around on buses and crossed town, heading back a bus that Google maps and the sign at the bus stop said existed didn’t. Beware the mythical 536! We were a bit stuck, people tried to help us, a storm came through, we caught a bus in the wrong direction at a big intersection, got caught in Delhi rush hour traffic (why is it called rush hour when it is so slow?) and after taking 3 hours to complete a 45min trip we collapsed in our hotel.

Chandni Chowk spice market Delhi

While Sheila relaxed in a warm bath, I did a food run for Rs50 ($1) of street momos that was almost too much for us both to eat. Am I a good husband or what?

Not finished. More to write. 7℅ battery left. Publish!

3,300 steps to heaven

Posted on October 8, 2015 by Steve

I am so far behind on this blog, but I have so lost track of time I can’t tell. There are going to be things out of order, but that doesn’t matter does it? For now I think I will just jump to Palitana.

It’s a relatively small place, about 15,000 people but the one thing it does have going for it, apart from a wonderful couch surfing (CS) host, is the most important temple complex in the Jain religion.

It is a long way up, it is hot. Don’t attempt this if you can’t start by 0800 😛

Sorry, you are going to have to do you’re own research on where Jainism fits, best I can tell is that it is sort of related to Hinduism. The most obvious thing about Jainism is their diet. As well as vegetarian, they eat nothing that grows below the ground – onions, garlic, ginger, potatoes. It has to do with valuing all life, including microbes in the soil. However they do eat peanuts because they were in their shell. I did say you would have to do your own research

Dashiki and good family are Jain’s and suggested Palitana and the. temple complex. This place is not for the weak of body or spirit. It is at the top of a mountain and there are 3,300 steps leading up there.

This is one way to get to the top

Of course if you are weak of body or spirit you can hire either a two man or four man team of porters to carry you up and many people do because this is an important pilgrimage, so they will do what it takes to get to the top.

It is a long climb, it took me about 90 minutes going slowly but steadily, zig zagging up the steps at a 45° angle to make it a little easier. Also it is hot, I started at 0730 in the cool of the morning, I don’t think you’d want to get going much later than that and expect to survive.

2,700 down, 600 to go

A couple of months ago I discovered step wells via this story. I contacted Victoria and she sent me some info about them in big cities. So it was cool to discover several step wells on the way up the mountain.

A very basic stepwell, maybe it is technically a tank, watch future posts for spectacular versions of this

I think I mentioned that 3,300 steps is a long way, and to paraphrase my Indian friend Ashok “Travelling India is an exercise in endurance, but the rewards are worth it”.

This is not a temple, it is a complex of around 1,300 temples according to my CS host who also happens to be a tour guide – but was unavailable the day I went up. Did you read my way of relating the Ganesh festival to any festival you have been to? Do something similar for any Indian temple you have seen, multiply it by a very big number to get the awesomeness level of this place.

More than once I was on the verge of tears I was so moved by the vastness and beauty of the carvings. Because I was playing tourist rather than pilgrim I had more “freedom” to wander, so after seeing the very crowded temples and people doing their devotions, I went into the quiet areas where I could sit away from the hustle and just look.

Most areas photography is not allowed unfortunately.

The biggest temple, Sonji Tuk was actually the quietest. The importance of a deity doesn’t seem to relate to the size of the temple. But this one had something special, the most beautiful painted dinner ceiling. I asked and was allowed to lie on my back and just look at it for a long time. A priest thought I was sleeping and wanted to move me along, but a guard explained and all was good. I could have laid there for hours and can’t share photos because it is prohibited.

Barat suggested an hour would be enough, 3 hours later I decided to head back down. By this time it is 1200 and really hot.

[Update] this was another draft, in an effort to catch up I will finish here with a few annotated photos.

One of Bharat’s friends owns a gym. Though not much by western standards, it could still turn out boys who like to strut their stuff

Mava (pron. Mawa) is a beetle nut mixture that when combined with limestone gives the user a buzz. I tried the non-limestone version, Pan, and didn’t last long with the intense flavours. Bharat’s father used to own this Pan stand, it was pretty funny when a customer walked up and started ordering in Hindi.

Me sitting in on one of Bharat’s English classes. Needles to say, once more I was honoured guest.

Always moving forward

Posted on October 8, 2015 by Steve

Do you know what Couch Surfing (CS) is? Essentially people who have a spare bed or some couch space will accept guests for a night or 3. International travellers are the most popular guests for obvious reasons.

You contact potential hosts in your destination via the CS app and request to stay. Based on your profile, your request and past references plus their availability, they will either decline or if you are lucky, they will accept. In Maroli my CS hosts have been Darshil and Dhruvi and their extended family. In a pair of large adjoining houses 13 people from 4 generations interweave their lives in a way that is very different to family life as most of us would know it.

Darshil's family with the delightful Nani

Darshil’s family – the women, anyway – with the delightful Nani

Describing the lifestyle and seeing it from my cultural context it is conflicting on how to write about it without appearing critical or insensitive. So any Indians reading this, please understand that I am just trying to explain how it is to my family and friends.

This woman has worked in Darshil’s family Ayurvedic pharmaceutical business for 32 years. She would also do jobs around the family home.

No matter where I am staying, I do my best to be a good guest. For me that means helping out where possible, cleaning up after myself, maybe cooking a meal, washing dishes, whatever…it is about contributing to the household rather than being a burden.

That is really tricky here. In the Indian culture is a strong delineation between women’s roles and men’s. To put it bluntly the men are pretty much waited on hand and foot by the women…I find it a bit uncomfortable. It is a battle to take my used plates to the kitchen, Indian culture expects me to just leave them on the table – but that is really hard for me to do. The women have served us men at the table and when we are done, then they all sit on the kitchen floor and eat. Indian culture, I remind myself.

It doesn’t show so well in a photo, but these were decidedly creepy. Nice outfits though 😛

But what a wonderful family. Darshil is the head of the house, his father died 3 years ago. Also living in the house are his wife Dhruvi, his sister-in-law and her two children, his mother and his grand mother. There is also assorted staff that seem to come and go.

Just like with my children, I am not averse to picking a favourite and my clear favourite is Nani-Ji, grand mother. She is gorgeous to look at, has an obvious sweet and gentle nature, is as playful as you can be without speaking English and is an amazing cook.

You know that there are hundreds of varieties of rice, right? I could SD the difference, but no idea what you would use each type for.

You know that there are hundreds of varieties of rice, right? I could see the differences, but no idea what you would use each type for.

Oh how I could go on about the food. Every meal is a different set of delights, all home made (by the women of course) and the food just keeps coming in a seemingly endless supply (while we men sit and eat).

Without making a big deal of it, Darhsil and his family run a very successful Ayurdevic pharmaceutical business and have homes and lifestyles that are good by any standard and luxurious by Indian standards. We spent a bit of time at the Nahar Phrmaceuticals factory that produces over 500 different tablets, pills, potions and no doubt poultices. It is interesting to see how the production process ranges from automatic pill press machines to a group of women sitting on the floor hand checking thousands of pills for faulty ones.

Maybe there isn’t a lot of choice, but for me, someone who lives in the middle of very quiet bush, the location of the houses is a little odd. The front doors are less than 50 metres from a busy railway line that has either a local or express train pass every 10 minutes or so, and they all blow their whistles because there is a crossing 100m down the track.

Perhaps the location is for the amusement value of the AM and PM commuter trains, I have finally seen a real life “people on the roof of a train”. They were hanging out the doors, standing between carriages on the couplings, crazy stuff. I have a video but am not ready to risk my luck uploading it, just happy to have internet for now.

I am leaving Maroli this evening for Palitana, I will save the information about Palitana for a future post, you can spoiler via Google if you like.

Earthenware water pots for sale

And the title of this post? Darshil is very superstitious, every time he starts his car and is going to reverse out of the house, first he drives forward a bit. It made me laugh every time.

[Update] the draft of this was written about a week ago, it has taken that long to be able to upload images.

Holy Parvati!

Posted on September 28, 2015 by Steve

This post is stale before I even got to publish it. Read it maybe for background, but the next one is the real story here.

The title loosely translates to Holy Mother Of God, in this case the God is Ganesha.

Like the music surrounding this festival, I might have been banging on a bit about Ganesh Chaturthi. Once I discovered it and that the festival was happening while I am here it has been a constant theme, from the day I arrived.

Ganesh Chaturthi 2015

Down every other street and lane there is a brightly decorated statue of Ganesh, some big, some small, some like the main ones here in Mumbai are huge!!! The festival ends today with the statues being taken and immersed in water to dissolve, here it is at the beach and I am hoping to get there.

That I am able to cope with the crowds and lack of respect of personal space is nothing short of miraculous in itself. I tend to avoid crowds, I don’t like the jostling much. But here I have managed to mentally detach a bit and remind myself I am on an adventure and that makes it mostly bearable.

A Rs50 ($1) taxi ride to a wall of people and traffic saw me take pity on the driver and jump out before we actually got to Laulbag Raja. There is nothing I can think of to compare this to so you will get a sense of the volume and visuals of this place. People everywhere, 2 of the 3 road lanes are closed for pedestrians making the traffic even worse. There are strings of flashing lights leading to all Ganesha, but they have exceeded themselves in this area. The area is floodlit, there is live TV showing the festivities, hawkers everywhere, police and army just hanging around, barricades to funnel people in a general direction. There is obviously some sort of order in the chaos as it all seems to flow, but it is madness.

I hadn’t come all this way to not go in boots and all so I stood in a not too long line (30 mins) to get in to one of the Ganesh idols. I took the easy line where I just passed through the room caught a glimpse and then ended up in sideshow alley.

While I am making a bit light of my experience, this is also an intensely spiritual time and experience for every other person there – I seem to be the only westerner. The other line would have been a couple of hours long and funnelled people to the feet of Ganesha to touch them and have their wishes granted. There is a lot of puja happening and given the situation people are remarkably patient.

One thing I am good at is getting the most out of a situation and when we were being pushed through quickly I did a mix of ignorance/bold tourist/curious onlooker/friendly short guy/try to be inconspicuous and managed to spend a fair bit of time watching and videoing. I am sure I wasn’t supposed to wander into this area but no one stopped me so you get to see what was involved. Of course video never does reality justice.

In fact the whole experience was quite amazing. The idol is huge and georgeous despote being garishly decorated (they all are), the atmosphere is electric, and although there is conflict between keeping moving and wanting to stop, people are in a generally good mood.

I am not 100% certain of the setup but I think there is a number of big Ganesha in the area. I wandered into another fast moving line that went into a big room that was your theme park nightmare. You know how you see a ride and there is about 50 people in line so you get on the end and make your way forward and then you realise that around the corner is that sneaky hidden snakey line with about 200 people? Well around this corner was that sneaky hidden snakey line that I guess would have held at least 2,000 people…no kidding! But it was empty right now and it led to this gauntlet…note the queue on the right.

When I got to the main body of people I just couldn’t do it. There was just too many people too jammed together, but like Ikea there is no obvious exit. Going with the flow of people was one thing, imagine going against it. By the ti!e i got out I was in overwhelm, I turned my hearing aids off, had a sugar hit and walked the few Km back to my hotel where a cold shower was such a relief – and I hate cold showers.

The hotel has let me use a computer and finally I have fast internet [update: ‘faster’ internet]. Meanwhile this is random Mumbai.

Beautifully adorned woman sitting waiting for a train. It was OK to take a photo of her foot, as long as I also took a photo of the whole family :o)

The Gateway Of India monument

The India Railways building at Central Station

I don’t even want to know…

Feels like Goa

Posted on September 24, 2015 by Steve

Not all the advice I get turns out perfectly. Someone mentioned that on trains to get a side berth as they are a bit more airy. No, they aren’t. Also compared to regular berths you sleep along the train (vs across) which means that the train rocks you side to side instead of head to foot. Throw in a scheduled 0400hrs arrival in Madgaon and it was not a good night.

An alarm for 0345 worked and I was delighted to discover the train was an hour late…oh precious sleep, you flash by in the night. Even if you know a place, arriving there way too early is a drag, but arriving in a town you didn’t know existed until a few days ago adds a degree of difficulty. Despite my better judgement I ask a taxi driver to take me to a hotel and I end up at a quiet little place (I’ll leave the description at that, it sounds almost romantic) in Colva Beach.

Here is the entire entry that has since been removed from Lonely Planet

If it’s a beach paradise you’re after, you’ll likely be disappointed with what’s waiting to greet you in Colva. A large concrete roundabout marks the end of the beach road and the entrance to the beach, and is filled with daytrippers and listless hawkers. The main beach drag is lined with stalls and shabby cafes; sure, it’s got all the material needs you’re seeking, but as far as atmosphere goes, it’s sorely lacking. Still, it makes a decent break if you’re pottering along down the coast, or are in need of a water-sports fix.

It is a tired place and during the off season (monsoon time) there is a feeling of a town trying just that bit hard to make a go of it.

Then there is the beach itself which is why people come. It is long, lined with coconut palms, and the ocean stretches out to the west. It doesn’t quite compare to Pacific Island beaches but it is lovely to take long walks along. And on long walks the surprises happen.

Not sure of her story, but she looked awesome

Even cows like this beach and let's not talk about the countless scrawny dogs, all over the place — Even cows like this beach and let’s not talk about the countless scrawny dogs, all over the place

I timed an afternoon walk to coincide with sunset and there he is again, Ganesh this time the end result of all the celebrations, he is immersed in the ocean.

All you have to do is look interested and people happily include you.

I’ve had not much appetite the last couple of days, yesterday only ate 2 bananas. Had a light breakfast and was peckish at dinner but only wanted a small meal. Yeah, right…

Lights, Camera, Bollywood

Posted on September 22, 2015 by Steve

The ferry captain from Kollam had kindly arranged a hotel room for me, perhaps it was owned by his uncle, but who cares. They met me at the ferry with a sign “Stephen Davis Australia”. This was a smart move in case there was another Stephen Davis on board.

When I walk into the office, I am greeted by “‘ow’s it going mite”, the broadest, thickest Australian accent I have ever heard, that it was coming out of the mouth of an Indian was incredible.

Master of the Aussie accent

Meet Dileep, an English teacher from Bangalore (did I get that right Dileep?). His mastery of the Aussie accent puts me to shame and I consider engaging him for lessons. Over dinner and breakfast he also shares his cockney accent which is actually better than his Indian accent. But I outdo him with my American accent and can see that he will go and watch many John Wayne movies to hone his to perfection. Great meeting you Dileep (he said he would look forward to reading about himself).

There's a strong communist sentiment here.

Stencil graffiti. There’s a strong pro communist sentiment here.

The title of this post was a toss up between what I went with and I Met The Devil And He Drives A Bus From Kollam To Kochi. You know that fine line between incredible skill and sheer luck? This bus swerved from one side of that line to the other for a couple of hours, overtaking and undertaking everything in its path, that there may not be room wasn’t important. This guy was alpha bus driver and I didn’t even know there was such a thing. But again, he lives, so unless he really is the Devil, he is doing something right.

Fort Kochi is quite a historical place and by Indian standards is quite quaint. The walk along the promenade is a pretty popular tourist destination for Indians and can best be described as your typical tourist trap.

I have anchored spelling mistakes, after all English is not their first language. But this one was too funny

I have avoided joking about the countless spelling mistakes, after all English is not their first language. But this one was too funny

Having said that, seeing where the Kerala Backwaters flow out into the ocean was pretty interesting and I did enjoy some hot peanuts and a fruit juice a the sun went down.

But as has already happened every day, there is some sort of serendipitous fun along the way to the planned destination.

While unpacking and showering, there were intermittent drums not far away. They were just that bit too intermittent to work out exactly where they were coming from. Lucky me, they started again just as I ventured out and I found myself in a park with what I thought was some sort of celebration. Well it was, but it was being faked for a movie camera, and I then noticed the typical production detritus all around. I have no idea what they were shooting and I don’t think it qualifies as Bollywood, but who cares.

I watched a couple of takes which basically was a bunch of dressed up characters and people with colourful props being excited and dancing and being joyous as they paraded past the camera.

If you know me, you know that I am up for anything, so I asked if I could join in and was, as usual, ushered to the very front. A handful of other westerners were watching and they joined in. With colourful props in hand we excitedly danced joyously past the camera and although we’ll likely end up on the metaphorical cutting room floor, it was a blast.

Almost a Bollywood starlet. No, I did not make the balloon hats on the women. But I did turn one into a dog which impressed everyone :o)

One of the missions in Kochi was to visit the company that does tech support for the 123host.com.au server. A ferry across the river and a tortuously bumpy 30 minute auto ride funds me out the front of a pretty flash new looking building. Also outside the building are about 10 staff members and they aren’t having smoko, they are there to greet me, one even has a bunch of flowers for me.

The Support Monk team

It was good to meet the people who I count on when something goes wrong and I was delighted to discover they aren’t fly-by-nighters. The owner and I talk, it gets awkward when we run out of things to talk about so we play table tennis, then the tortuous return journey is repeated. While I appreciate the gift, I give the flowers to auto driver for his wife.

You know, I could get used to this honoured guest thing.

Spice seller

Making a Masala blend. I had to break his heart and try to explain I didn’t need 5kg of spices.

Just received an SMS that my train tomorrow has changed from wait list to confirmed! Yay! Goa for two nights then into Mumbai which every one assures me is going to be crazy.