logistics – Page 3 – Travels

Sick as one of the many dogs

Posted on October 29, 2015 by Steve

With only a week left before we leave India we decided that rather than spend a couple of days in Kolkata, we would just stay overnight.

The plan was to catch the 2130hrs train from Gaya arriving in Kolkata at 0700hrs, that gave us a full day to at least check out some of the colonial architecture.

Advice: In India, always write your plans in pencil.

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.

By this time Sheila was decidedly unwell and had been for a couple of days. I decided to join her in the land of unwell and was feeling pretty dodgy too. We both had to keep the location if the nearest washroom (as they are known) in mind – too much information?

Out comes the plan eraser: train is 3.5 hours late, it is now leaving at 0100hrs – joy! – we have taken to sleeping on the platform like everyone else. At least once the train arrives we get our beds and I get a good nights sleep. Her? Not so good. By the time we get to Kolkata, somehow another hour has vanished into the Indian time hole so we now only have the afternoon instead of all day.

Have we been in India too long when we start sleeping on the train platform with the locals?

It is a moot point, because by now the notion of colonial architecture and anything else Kolkata has to offer has been completely erased from the plan given physical condition and capabilities.

Getting ready for an evening of festivities.

Stupidly I hadn’t organised a hotel in Kolkata. Normally this is OK, but when one member of the expedition is sick and tired and cranky it isn’t such a great idea. I had worked out the area we wanted to stay so into a taxi we jump and head to Park St with me having increased the cranky level by standing in line for 20 minutes for a taxi ticket instead of paying double and just getting a taxi.

There had been much festivities this day the final day of a festival, these guys were drummed out.

Unusually, taxi driver has no idea of hotels in what is the sort of tourist part of town and we effectively run in the door of the first one we see. It has AC, a bed and a toilet, it’s all we need.

Food has been the suspected culprit and I suddenly had the thought that perhaps this was more of a bug than just cultural wars. After all, I caught it a couple of days later and we have been sharing water bottles.

We rummaged through the medical kit, consulted a holy man, read chai leaves and decided which antibiotic Sheila would take. She’s asleep right now so I can’t ask if it helped, but I am not sure it did, she hasn’t eaten for a day and a half. Having said that, she does seem a little bit better today. Don’t worry about me though, my appetite hasn’t been affected at all.

New contender for ‘bottom of the traffic pecking order’. Hadn’t seen a hand pulled rickshaw in India before.

I am not sure Sheila remembers Kolkata at all. The next morning we have to get to the airport and fly to Chennai. The guy behind the desk has been pressuring me to take the hotel car for Rs500 or Rs600 with AC, I am not impressed and the more someone insists I do something they want rather than what I want, the digger my heels get in.

I had added the Uber app the previous day and this was the time to go for it. I book a car and no shit, it arrives in less than 1 minute and that includes driving past the hotel and backing up.

Sheila is weak and sick and I am making sure she is OK and getting to the car, the guy still wants me to take the hotel car, the porters are being very helpful carrying my bags despite me asking them not to, the Uber driver is making sure we are us, it is frenetic and crazy. We get in the car and the porter sticks his head in and says “please, a tip?”, the last thing I needed right then. I shove a whopping Rs10 (20c) into his hand and pull the door shut to wipe the shocked look off his face. I wasn’t kind, as Sheila constantly reminds me we make more in a year than they see in a lifetime, but they are so fucking insistent and persistent.

There really is colonial architecture in Kolkata, maybe we will see more of it next time

My first ever Uber booking is a dream. The guy drops us at the airport door, the total is Rs216 we are out of Kolkata and on our way to Chennai for a few days before flying home via KL. Since seeing Life of Pi after the germination of the India trip idea, Sheila had in the back of her mind visiting Puducherry, the home of the (emphasising this) mythical Pondicherry zoo.

Are we heading to the disappointment of an unfulfilled expectation (as I suspect)? Can it be anything like the movie? Is the French influence still there? After all Noumea was so disappointing.

I still have to write that up, after Mamallapuram.

Guys playing a game that is sort of drafts crossed with snooker.

We’re here to help…

Posted on October 22, 2015 by Steve

Were you eagle eyed enough to spot the (uncorrected because I can’t be bothered) mistake in the last post? Red Fort was actually in Delhi, in Agra is Agra Fort, so mentally move that part of the post to the previous one.

The exciting news is that this gives me the opportunity to include a shot of yet another baoli! It’s a pretty boring one, with a steel grating over it, though marked as a baoli. And quite tricky to find despite asking at least 10 staff, it is more of a well, unless maybe the steps were filled in some time in the past.

Agra Fort baoli

Generally railway stations, though busy, bustling crowded places, are quite sedate – if that is not a contradiction. There are families sitting, eating, sleeping waiting patiently for their train. A wave of people leaves on a train, the station fills up again and the cycle repeats.

Agra station was different. For a start, every other station I have boarded a train has illuminated signs along the platform that tell you where your carriage is, but not in Agra. More than that, there was a lot of young men, some of them standing blatantly staring at Sheila, while not threatening, it was decidedly creepy.

Suddenly we have some people attach themselves to us, but instead of the touts and hasslers it is Nicola from the UK and Eddie from Scotland. With all the creepy, but apparently harmless, openly staring men they felt more comfortable in a “safety in numbers” situation, we all got on well and shared stories and they told us about the hotel they were heading to in Varanasi, so it was a fortuitous meeting.

Then the train arrived. I have seen some mad moments and this was one of them. All the young men were in general seating i.e. no reserved seats, so there was an insane rush for the train with about 20 guys at each door jostling and pushing tying to get into an already crowded carriage that people were likely trying to get out of.

The trains come into a station quite slowly, perhaps this is not official policy, but I think it is to allow people to jump on and off before it stops with out actually killing themselves. So we got to see our carriage go past (they are all clearly marked – mostly) and keep going down the platform. This meant we had to jostle through the already jostlers and work our way down to our carriage. The train was 45 minutes late and I was a bit concerned it might do a stop and go like the buses, so I was leading the foray past families sitting eating and sleeping with men forming a bit of a barrier to stop them being trampled…not in a dangerous trampling sense, but it would have been not pleasant to have either young guys or us in the middle of their chappatis.

Camouflaged goat. The colouring was actually quite unusual and beautiful.

I guess on Back to the Future Day I can romanticise and say that we woke up in Varanasi, time and location having changed while we slept. The usual auto ride through busy streets, this one more fun because we are jammed into an auto with Nicola and Eddie and their backpacks. I get to ~~sit~~ hang on in the front with the driver – I am reminded of a time when sailing on a big boat Cruz Control and a wrist strap caught on the boom and it swung out over the side of the boat way out in the ocean with me hanging on. Can’t decide which was more dangerous.

The lane outside our hotel one afternoon. Fortunately we were coming in from the other end. The Hindi word for cow is “gai” and I do love most of the cows, they are placid and care free and at the top of the traffic pecking order…and they know it.

The auto can’t get us quite to the Sarai River View Hotel, the last 100m or so is down some narrow lanes, I remind Sheila that at the end of every dingy lane is a surprisingly great hotel. Up to a room and there in front of us is a balcony with a most wonderful view over Assi Ghat and the Ganges.

The balcony and view from Sahi River View hotel Varanasi. We didn’t mind this spot at all.

The story we heard was that The Ganges was formed when the goddess Shiva took a shower and is the holiest of Hindu places, it is likely one of the most polluted of India’s places. If Shiva is anything like us, she took multiple showers a day to wash off the sweat, the grime and the Ganges water, but I can’t find a reference to that.

Just south of where we were staying was the Assi river, or more appropriately, the Assi cesspool cum drain. It is the most vile waterway I have seen and it flows directly into the Ganges just upriver from the intake towers for the city’s drinking water.

How are we going with the picture I am trying to paint of the state of The Ganges? Let me continue…

At monsoon time the river comes up and dumps metres of silt along the ghats. For the next few months they use high pressure hoses to wash the silt back into the river clearing the ghats… they haven’t finished yet this year and some places were quite treacherous. The 1984 flood record is marked on some very high walls about a metre or so from the top, can only imagine what it looked like.

Silt on the banks of The Ganges, Varanasi

Add to the river the fact that most of India is not sewered. A Lonely Planet guide statistic from 2009 says that the safe levels of E. coli is 500 parts per million but the water was measured at 1.5 million ppm (the link above says it is far worse). Doesn’t stop people swimming, washing, bathing and being interred in it.

Sunrise, the red tinge is caused by air pollution which is awful right across India

Which leads to one of the things Varanasi is noted for, the cremation ghats. We headed to the old city and stopped for a sugar cane juice. Walla didn’t have any change so bloke standing there helped us out a bit.

The cycle rickshaws are all decorated on the back

It is important that I define “helping out” because it is a recurring theme for the day. When a person offers to help – and I admit this is only 99.99% of the time – it means they have something to sell. This guy hooked up with us and wanted to take us to his shop despite me telling him we didn’t want to buy anything. As we walked he was always just behind our just ahead or just over the road keeping pace. We ducked into an alley being suddenly interested in sandals, for a while I thought we had lost him, but there he was waiting for us to emerge. Note to self: next time duck into shop in alley so he can’t see you in alley.

Down a lane pointing to the Vishnawath Temple, our first planned stop. Helper is still with us. I can’t remember quite how it happened but he stopped helping us only to be replaced (or was it usurped?) by someone else who helped us when a shopkeeper didn’t understand English.

This helper stuck with us for almost 2 hours. I made it clear we weren’t interested in buying anything but he hung in there knowing a softie when he spotted Sheila.

In fact he was a pretty good guide, he explained lots of things, took us to the cremation ghats (wait for it…) and the government bhang shop. This one sells ganga overlooking The Ganga. And what a range they had, balls, cakes, patties and no doubt other delights. This is for locals only apparently.

We always try to support the local economy

It ended up that we couldn’t get into the temple, you need your passport and I don’t carry mine when not heading to a new city. So we wound our way down to the main cremation ghat and were handed to a guy who specifically told us he didn’t want to help (if you get my drift) but ended up being more helpful than we expected.

Up a couple of flights off stairs to a balcony in the building and we were directly overlooking the cremation fires – we were close enough that it was hot and smoky. Bodies are wrapped in cloth then covered in a bright outer wrapping of material and carried to the ghat through the alleys on bamboo stretchers with someone walking ahead calling that they are coming through. We saw this once and as you would, respectfully stepped aside.

Once at the river the body is rinsed briefly in the water, left to dry for a while then placed on a pile of timber which is set alight by a family member. The flame comes from Shiva’s fire that we were told has been burning continuously for 2,500 years.

Piles of wood ready to be taken to the ghat to cremate people. The amount needed per body is surprisingly small.

At any one time there are 8 or so cremations at various points of completion; some just started, some partly burned, some finished. They burn over 200 bodies a day and it is all very matter of fact with guys using long bamboo poles to stoke the fires and “rearrange” the contents – I will leave the detail at that despite the whole process being quite graphic at times. Obviously no photos allowed and it isn’t something I would have photographed anyway.

We went in fully understanding that a donation towards wood for cremation was expected. It was explained to us by the guy who was becoming more and more helpful that people come there to die and his organisation helps them at the end of their life. They are often poor and wood is Rs150/Kg with quite a bit needed each time.

This sounded like a good thing to support so I gave a woman we were introduced to Rs1,000 ($10). Sheila was then told money had to come directly from her hand so she handed over 100. Then we were introduced to another woman and were expected to hand over money again. No way I was funding that much again so we each handed 100 and in return received a WTF withering glare. Now if the money is going into a slush fund to help the poor, why does it matter who we give it to? Just sayin’.

Once outside, the helpful guy who assures us he wasn’t helping is suddenly very helpful “something for me and my family and baby daughter?”. Another 200 and while the value isn’t a lot, I hand it over with gritted teeth feeling like we have been spun another story.

Every one has a story. Another guy the next day told us he has met John Saffran and had been in the Race Around The World series. Despite assuring us he wasn’t at all helpful he also had something to sell.

Back at the ghat we have emerged into the alleys and of course helpful guy is ready continue the tour. Because Sheila feels obliged we end up back at his shop which, as I suspected, has nothing that interests us. I say to helpful guy that we are leaving, we appreciate his help and hand him Rs200. He looks at me and says “is that all?” and while not exactly snapping, I have had enough, decide to say what is on my mind and tell him “you followed us, we told you we didn’t want you to, be thankful you got that” which – shock horror! – worked and he shut up and walked off.

We now have a code phrase that we say to each other, “I think he is trying to help” which means one of us has realised that here we go again.

The case for witches hats. Guy (with supervisor) had just hand painted this line on a busy railway station platform and walked away jut leaving it to dry.

The case for witches hats. Guy (with supervisor) had just hand painted this line on a busy railway station platform and walked away leaving it to dry.

I could go on and on about Varanasi. We spent 3 days here and watched evening services, took a sunset ride on the river, did yoga at dawn, ate at great restaurants, bought clothes, had a massage and finished it with Sheila getting Varanasi Assi, but I didn’t – after almost 6 weeks I think I am now immune.

Oh one more thing. Varanasi also has a baoli and this one was especially cool as it is a working stepwell. There is an active temple adjoining it and women wash their clothes in the water. It is the best maintained of all I have seen.

Baoli, Varanasi

You will be either pleased or disappointed to know that I think I have run out of baoli…but we haven’t checked at our next stop, Bodhgaya.

For Taj

Posted on October 21, 2015 by Steve

Moving quickly now to try to catch up. Generally, booking trains and buses is really easy using the ClearTrip app on my phone, it will give a range of trips available at a range of prices. Found the perfect bus from Delhi to Agra but could not make the payment work, maybe because it is an international debit card…sigh…

Day 3 and off we go to Agra

But we knew the bus name, from where it left and at what time. A local bus ride to the Sarai Kale Kahn bus station and as we step off into a dusty field with a bunch of food vendors and a few buses some guys shout “Agra” ad indicate their bus. It isn’t quite the Uttar Pradesh Transport Company Volvo, but it is clean, looks comfortable, is half the fare and conveniently it is right in front of us so on we get.

The 4 hour trip wasn’t too bad apart from stopping all stations, sometimes in the middle of nowhere along the express way to pick people up or drop them off. Bizarre thing was that rather than half way, after about 3.5hrs, in sight of Agra they decide to do a food and toilet stop, I can only assume the bus guys get a free feed for bringing in a bus load.

At one point along the way I look out the back window and there it is, the UPTC Volvo, right behind us. Yes it looked more comfortable but we were doing the Real India^TM thing.

The Volvo we didn’t catch

Getting off the bus there was a Rs40 charge for the luggage underneath (they get you coming and going) and the usual bit of a kerfuffle because we didn’t have the exact change. One bloke steps out of the throng of auto drivers that has surrounded us and offers to front the Rs40, we decline and sort it out, but this guy speaks English, has a lovely smile and his ploy works. We hire him to recommend and take us to a hotel. This actually turned out to be a wise move on everybody’s part as after a few laughs along the way and getting into the hotel we book him to do the Agra tourist thing the next day.

Non aggro Agra auto driver.

We always try to arrive in a town early morning if going by train, or with a short-ish bus ride like this one early afternoon. So after settling into the superficially OK but actually mediocre hotel we went for a walk to the railway station on a mission. Often with train tickets the trains are overbooked and you start out on a waitlist. I have never missed a train because a waitlist hasn’t been confirmed, but I do like to stack the odds in my favour. I wanted to try to convert our waitlist into an Emergency Quota tickets or Foreign Tourist Quota (haven’t managed this one yet). The train was booked for our trip to Varanasi, but still not confirmed.

A casual walk along dusty roads, past cows, goats, pigs, dogs, burning rubbish and a kid defecating in the street had us quickly falling in love with Agra. We failed to upgrade at the station and out the front asked an auto driver if he could take us to somewhere we could have a beer. Of course he could , for Rs30 – cheap!

It was cheap because we were conned – it was about a 5 minute walk, if that. The bar was dingy, Sheila was the only woman, but the beer was cold.

Cheers beers with street peanuts

The auto rickshaws are one thing, the cycle rickshaws are something else. These poor buggers work hard for less Rupees because they are much slower. It is not uncommon to see them out and pushing up even the slightest of hills. We caught one back to the hotel, I helped push and offered to cycle for the driver, but it would cost him Rupees (cue laughter).

Rickshaw driver doing it tough on the hill, I got out to make the load a bit lighter.

Next day was the big day, one of the highlights we were looking forward to, the Taj Mahal. Everyone who has been there says that the photos, while beautiful don’t do it justice. We had seen a glimpse of it from a long way off the previous day and it was definitely alluring.

An early start, the heat in the middle of the day is pretty stifling. There is quite a strong security presence, metal detectors, a quick frisking (my favourite part). Actually security is apparently strong in lots of places, but it I reckon it is mostly a sham. You walk through metal detectors that beep, no one cares. People are half watching the screens on the x-ray machines. In the streets or at venues police with sub-machine guns are sitting chatting, paying as little attention to the goings on as possible. If the attack they are there to prevent ever happens, I reckon they will also defecate in the streets.

This cop is good, but we have seen others who would shame him for Movember

Once in, the approach to the Taj Mahal is through the main gate which is awesome in its own right.

No, this is not the main gate, but I love this shot.

I made sure I didn’t peek until I had the full view and they were right, it is a most beautiful building. The whole place is very symmetrical, the layout of other buildings, gardens. Even the Taj Mahal itself is exactly the same height as its width.

As we walked towards it, it dawned on me just how big the building is, something you just don’t get in photos. And it is white, glaring white marble

The main approach to the Taj Mahal – note the size of people standing on the forecourt

It is pretty crowded but not to the point of being annoying. Given that Indians get in for Rs20 compared to Rs750 for foreign tourists it is no surprise that the place is packed.

From there to the Red Fort. Please refrain from “not another bloody fort” comments. Instead you can write “not another bloody baoli” comment because tucked away, behind locked gate but broken fence was this beauty with an octagonal well.

Baoli Red Fort, Agra

Octagonal well at baoli, Red Fort Agra

Next stop, Varanasi

Getting ready for a night time marriage parade. I would love to see this in action.

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!

Ganesh Chaturthi 2015 – the video post

Posted on September 28, 2015 by Steve

Every city has its big event. Sydney does a huge New Years Eve, Brisbane had just held Riverfire, New York does a Thanksgiving parade (I think). Imagine the biggest of these events, covering a whole city that we shall call Mumbai, a city with a population that is greater than the whole of Australia.

Every parade I have ever participated in has been pretty tightly marshalled, there is a starting point, a specific ending point and a limited number of floats. So imagine a fun alternative where instead every community group, business association, church or organisation that wants to decides they will build a float and it will be on display for 10 days in a street that is convenient to them. Blocking entire streets is OK, blocking multiple lanes of major roads is just fine, I am not sure whether getting permission is required or is optional.

On a certain day each of these floats is then transported through the streets to one of a number of destinations where they are dumped into the ocean. The float that has been on display is really just the core of each individual procession. The transportation component is a logistical feat that may involve a combination of one or more of: a mobile generator truck, a flat bed semi trailer with a crowd of people and the main part of your float, more people following it (mostly women) throwing rice at the truck, random onlookers wandering up to do puja, more random onlookers taking photos and trying to not get in the way, a truck with a HUGE sound system blaring music, a minimum of 10 drummers, people dancing and other assorted vehicles. Some groups have all of the above.

The music ranges from traditional Indian music to Gangnam Style doof to someone playing a Casio keyboard using the corniest sounding preset. All of it accompanied by the drummers, all of it loud!!!

Did I mention that you will find one of these floats about every 200 metres or so along every road in the city? Sorry, my oversight.

Every group will have their own style, some will be quite modest (I didn’t say quiet) and traditional, others will be modern and louder and more brash. Some of them delight in performance by their drummers, others seem to have an endless supply of lethal fireworks…truly lethal. In Australia fireworks for the public were banned about 30 years ago, the stuff these people were setting off was never ever legal in Australia and was genuinely scary.

The empty skyrocket box

In this video, a guy had placed a box in the middle of a really busy intersection, it contained by my count 250 skyrockets that went off at about 1 every second for about 5 minutes. It actually didn’t cause any traffic problems, but that is only because traffic was already paralysed.

This one started off cool, a big idol, some coloured smoke, note teh size of the sound system and my timing was perfect as I moved around for a different angle.

Sorry, distracted. So this parade of thousands of colourful noisy floats that you are imagining has started at random times from thousands of locations and they are all converging on a handful of destinations. Add to it millions of people out on the streets to join in the fun. Subtract from it any semblance of traffic control by the police. Add to it vehicles not in the parade seeming not noticing the parade or the millions of people and continuing to drive at top speed. Subtract any effective crowd control – some groups hold a rope up alongside their float, that’s about as good as it gets.

It is the first time have seen a God caused gridlock as all these floats tried to merge onto the main road to the beach.

Are you starting to get the idea of what the end of the Ganesh Chaturthi festival is like? It was extraordinary in the extreme. I set out at about 1100hrs and lasted until about 2230hrs when like most events, it started getting just too crowded and crazy for me.

I could rave about this for days, there can’t be many events like this in the world, much less that happen every year. I heard of Ganesh Chaturthi somewhere along the research way and it is the only reason I came to Mumbai, I am so glad I did. And if you or anyone you know is heading here, this is a must.

As an addendum, here is my list of very real ways you could die at the end of Ganesh Chaturthi:

Drown during immersion
Crushed by one of the vehicles
Blown to bits by some of the ~~fireworks~~ explosives
Run down by a motorist seemingly oblivious to millions of people and thousands of floats on the streets
Dance yourself to death
Dehydration

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…

Time stopped

Posted on September 21, 2015 by Steve

A while back, in a Lonely Planet guide to India I read about the Kerala backwaters in the south west. There was lots written about day tours and house boats, but what grabbed me was the chance to catch a two day ferry trip north to Kochi (Cochin).

This plan was a kind of link in my trip, head south west, then by ferry start the trip north taking 3 weeks to get to Delhi. So you can imagine how delighted I was to get to Kollam and find that there is no such ferry.

But this trip is an adventure and on adventures things don’t go smoothly, after all, that’s what makes it an adventure, right?

In fact, despite my disappointment things were going well. My Bangalore Belly was settling down, I managed to get to Kollam, I had another amazeballs experience and I am in India. There is a ferry, but it only goes to Alleppey, takes 8hrs and costs Rs400 ($AUD9), then I can get a bus to Kochi.

Ferry 25. Kollam to Alleppey

There is a temptation to not write about this day, just post pictures of the most incredibly surprising trip. A double decker ferry with about 20 people on board chugging along coconut palm lined canals passing fishing canoes and houses and people and hot and humid.

Impressive number of fishing boats along the way

…and some not so big fishing boats

Towards the end there was a traffic jam of hundreds of houseboats tying up for the evening. They look fantastic but we're pretty expensive to hire, even by Australian standards.

Towards the end there was a traffic jam of hundreds of houseboats thing up for the evening. They look fantastic but we’re pretty expensive, even by Australian standards.

I have more photos but internet is frustratingly slow and as much as I am enjoying writing all this, it is painful Maybe I will add some more later or figure out how to make my Google album public.

Do check out this video of a steampunkish coconut oil extraction factory

And somewhere along the way I took my watch off…

Heading south

Posted on September 18, 2015 by Steve

It’s a big day in India, the start of Ganesh Chaturthi, a 10 day Hindu festival. Originally I was going to avoid Mumbai, but when I read about this festival and how huge it is in Mumbai I decided to go there. Everyone warns me it is crazy.

Did I already mention this in a post? Forgive me if I am repeating but I am not going back to check.

Last night was a bit of a build up as they moved shrouded statues of Ganesh onto makeshift platforms. There are loads of these set up, various sizes and level of decoration. Each one is blocking a laneway, so traffic is a little more chaotic if that is possible.

I had decided to head south today and though I might have picked the wrong night to be on a train, night one of GS. But no fear of missing out. Read on.

Booking a train ticket was much easier than booking on the bus. Same app, but this time it connects with India rail and they don’t mind foreign cards.

The only problem was that the train was apparently full and I am on a wait list with 4 other people. I figure that getting to the station very early to sort it out is wise. I know you are thinking “there is going to be a story here” and there is, but there is a happy ending. Well, there goes the chance for some cliff hangers.

Passive aggressive street seller

I get to Bangalore Cantonment Station and am told that to get myself from wait list to confirmed I need to go to Bangalore City Station (BNC). This is a good train ride test run and despite the ticket only being Rs30 (70c) I could have gotten away without one 🙂 But I will leave it to Americans to be the ugly tourists…speaking of which, where are all the foreigners? I seem to be the only one here.

BNC I line up again and am told to go to DRM ground floor, commercial office for Emergency Quota because there is no Foreign Tourist Quota. Likely because there seem to be no other foreign tourists. I am waved off in a general direction.

Walking generally in that direction, people I ask either waggle their head which I think meant “I don’t want to admit I don’t know” or they continue to wave in a general direction.

A unique commercial collaboration between Sennheiser and Adidas. I am sure it is legit

In that general direction after some back and forth-ing I eventually spot a sign pointing to District Rail Manager – get it? Up to the front door and although the building is open, all the offices are shut up. I am hoping GS isn’t a holiday.

I should add there are no signs in the building indicating what office is where. A few people, including a police officer with a big rifle, point out different places, none of which are right. I wander around outside and a man walking towards the building knows! In fact he seems to be the Emergency Quota man! It turns out I have to fill out a form, but there are none so a hand written copy is fine.

Instructions are to drop it into a box where I was certain it would languish for days. The dice are cast, time to go with the flow. I drop my back pack in the cloak room and start following my nose.

The whole time I am working on Plan B. Can I get a bus to Kollam? No. How much for a bed for the night? Not much. Since I have spoilered this yarn, you know I didn’t need them.

Street wandering is great fun. Food, stalls, people, things. I am drawn to the sound of some drumming and the day suddenly becomes awesome! In a crowded temple something is going on, not sure what but worth investigating.

This kid was excited and going off. The drumming was loud, people inside the temple we doing puja, the atmosphere was pretty electric.

Then there was some shouting and Ganesh is hoisted into the air and taken out to the street. On the way coconuts are smashed on the ground, laps are done of a central structure, drummers are drumming.

Despite being right in amongst it I didn’t feel like I was I intruding or in the way, people were smiling, it was a joyous occasion. Ganesh went in the back of a truck and was driven off, drums still going, drummers hanging out the back. It was a rare treat to see.

One thing Indian Rail does well is manage bookings. You are given a PNR number – I have no idea what it stands for – and it is the key to your booking. You can even SMS the PNR to 138 and it will respond with your ticket status. 1300hrs and I am still wait listed for a 1715hrs train.

Mental note of location made

I have already learned that you have to be bold to get things done, whether it is crossing the road (Steve, will you shut up about roads already) or having your booking status changed.

Back to DRM and in a room the size of our bathroom are three guys, the first thing I noticed was the monochrome computer screen. I don’t think I have seen one since last century.

I give them my PNR and am ready to ask if there is a “fee” when he tells me it is all good. I am in car A1, seat 25. And no fee!

And now I am somewhere heading South. I am getting more confident, just need perseverance. Oh, and despite the wait list, the train had plenty of empty beds :o)

Looking forward to the view as we travel

I haven’t stopped laughing all day:

Went to buy a bottle of water, thought the guy said Rs50, had a money malfunction (stand by) and when I sorted it I discovered it was actually Rs15, between my dodgy hearing and his accent..
When I went to buy Rs50 water all my money apart from about Rs150 was missing from my wallet. About Rs3,000, I hoped someone deserving found it when I dropped it. Went to the ATM got more, was putting the bulk of it in my money belt and found the money I forgot I had put in my money belt.
I am heading to Kollam to catch a ferry through the Kerala Backwaters to Kochi (Cochin), my fellow compartment sharer was puzzled and it took me a while to figure out that the train goes through Kochi on the way to Kollam. [UPDATE FROM KOLLAM] there is no ferry from Kollam to Kochi – thanks Lonely Planet.

Just another day in India

Preparing a Ganesha float

The wheels on the bus…

Posted on September 17, 2015 by Steve

Hyderabad to Bangalore in a sleeper bus. There’s an app for that. Actually there are a lot of bus booking apps, how easy will this be!

Found the bus I wanted, leaving at 2130 arriving Bangalore 0700 for Rs 850 (<$AUD20). The booking process includes choosing your seat. Fantastic!

photos of the inside of a bus are pretty boring, so these are from around Bangalore

I try to pay and my card is “declined by issuer”. This is a special account I created with Citibank that has a debit card I can use in any ATM in India.

I know that the card works, I have paid for a room and withdrawn cash. I reluctantly try my Aussie credit card – they have shitty exchange rates and take a conversion fee on top, but that doesn’t work either.

I call them and we work out that because it is a foreign issued card they don’t accept it online. I suppose I should be tha thankful that there isn’t the obligatory foreign tourist premium…but I’m not. I am promised that a way around this problem will be investigated and I will receive a call back. Being patient as described here doesn’t help, I never receive the call, but was optimistic anyway.

Maybe Citibank can do something to make the card Indian friendly. I recall seeing a Citibank sign on a building so am happy to go for a long walk to try to talk to someone who might speak a little English.

After 3 days I was starting to get to know my way around Banjara Hills and I knew I could find my way back hom…always an important consideration.

Somehow I walked about 1km past Citibank…sigh…and making my way back, there it was, but despite the huge sign (that I missed) it was only an ATM…another sigh.

Problem solving hat on I remember that Airtel, my phone company, has a money thing, you deposit funds and you can transfer it and pay bills. Kind of like PayPal and the bus place accepts Airtel money.

Given how often we deal with offshore call centres, I felt quite comfortable being transferred around Airtel’s and back again. However the foreign card thingy applies here too and I can’t get money into that account. I am done sighing.

My host Ashok has offer to use his card but by this time I am on a mission to solve this myself, as though I didn’t have such wonderful people backing me up.

The online ordering was through a portal and it showed the name of the bus line so I decide to call them directly. I am assured I can buy the ticket for cash and of course someone will phone me back™. Bugger me, they did! They give me details for the pickup point @ 2130. It is all going to happen.

Just kidding.

Ashok and Vani drive me to the bus stop plenty early. I call the bus directly and tell them I am waiting. In a little while they call me and say they are nearly there. After 30 minutes watching the Niagara Falls of traffic flowing continuously by, I call again.

“You have missed the bus” he says. At this point I hand to Ashok and he tries to find out in Hindi what is happening.

Either the bus was cancelled or they changed the route or I wasn’t there. All three reasons were apparently offered.

But I can still get on the bus, just need to get to the next pick up point in an adjoining suburb. Sounds easy but this is Indian traffic. A crazy dash it was. Ashok is the most cautious driver I have seen. One time he used his horn and I commented :o) But tonight he was possessed.

They are calling every few minutes “hurry up the bus is waiting”, Ashok’s crazy driving is fitting into the local traffic perfectly, Vani is yelling at them in Hindi, I can’t understand a word but the tone of giving someone shit translates easily.

Finally we arrive at a bus booking place (a handful of stands by the side of the road) and can’t find the guy despite us being on the phone to him. Then he spots me…I do tend to stand out, I don’t think I have seen another Westerner since I got here.

There is more yelling in Hindi, the Rs850 fare is now magically Rs900 and I have my ticket. But the actual bus isn’t here. I give Vani and Ashok a hug to thank them for their amazingly incredible hospitality as it might be the last time I see them.

It just might be the last time I see anyone, because I put on my backpack and climb on the back of a motorbike to be taken to the bus.

Fuck me! There is a bus! And a bed for me (no seats)! And we get going! And now I am in Bangalore.

I could write a post about the trip itself but will only tell about the fact that my bed was on the bottom (it was two tiered) at the very back. This is directly above the hottest part of the engine and after about an hour the heat had worked its way up through the mattress.

Fortunately the top bed was empty…and I am in Bangalore.

I’ll bet you can’t wait to hear about the train ride to Kollam…I am sure there will be a tale to tell.

Obligatory first cow photo

Follow along

Posted on September 9, 2015 by Steve

Since my last post I have had several more pieces of advice offered both verbally, by email and on Facebook. A couple of them have actually been good ideas and will be taken on board. Thanks for all of it, it is better to have too much info, including some that you don’t need than to wish someone had suggested something like pre-register to book on Indian trains (which I have now done) and they hadn’t.

It is time to give a bit of a picture to the trip and here it is…

Click to view full size

I pretty much explained the rather loose plan here and I keep hearing about cool things to do and see along the route. Please feel free to add more in the comments, all ideas considered.

Why arrive in Hyderabad? With a fare of only $330 or so it was pretty hard to resist.

It is interesting to note how the to-do list keeps getting longer at the same time as the amount of time left is getting shorter.

But at least I managed to finish Breaking Bad before I left.

The top image was taken by my son Taj. It is quite intriguing and when you realise the secret it will make sense.