Category: transport
Delicious Delhi
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!
6 score pachyderms
Played the tourist again, hired an auto and did the major haunts. It is the best way to get around a big unfamiliar city where the sights are spread out. Welcome to Jaipur.
It was a nice slow auto ride, not part of the plan, but, when the throttle cable breaks, it is part of the adventure. Poor Yash had to hold the end of the cable with a rag until he could make temporary repairs, then later we stopped at the auto repair workshop…actually it was just a spot by the side of the road more than any sort of workshop, but it was fixed.
There is a weird gene in the Indian population where some people have grey/green eyes, it is a very attractive look…seriously. This guard was a photo favourite
First stop was Amber Fort. I hate to sound blasé, but it is your pretty standard Indian Fort meaning it is big, spectacular, beautiful and quite amazing. This one is also crowded, I am now in the golden tourist triangle – Delhi, Jaipur, Agra – and there were lots of groups of European tourists.
More amazing carved sandstone screens so that people could discreetly watch the goings on below.
But as usual there are surprises. In a corner of a crowded square is a sign explaining about underground water tanks. Nearby is a bored looking guard next to an iron gate. I go to peer through the bars on the gate and bored guard is suddenly as animated as the guards get (not very) and opens the gate for me. Down down down, all alone to the underground water tank, too dark for a photo.
I love this shot looking down onto the main path up from the top of the Fort.
Later I see a half hidden sign pointing to the secret tunnel. The tour guides lead the packs past a doorway, I venture in and alone again I head down down down to a tunnel that was an escape route from the castle if the hordes were attacking…or paparazzi are waiting at the front gate.
All this is great, but no one told me about the elephants. There are 120 of them carrying people in a steady procession up the mountain to the main courtyard past hordes of touts selling textiles, carvings, umbrellas and photos – maybe they should use the tunnel.
I can imagine the same scene in Australia. People would be wearing seatbelts and helmets, the elephants would walk behind a big fence, everything would be so safe. But this is India and you walk with the elephants, mahouts will shout at you if you get in the way.
You really walk with the elephants, close enough to touch them (if they aren’t moving). It was so awesome being so close to an elephant, but being surrounded by so many of them was indescribable.
All this and more during the day plus the fun of tracking down another baoli (stepwell). Not as big or spectacular as the one in Jodhpur, but still remarkable. I have found 3 to visit in Delhi.
Meena ka kund Baoli near the Amber Fort Jaipur
In Pushkar a couple from Argentina had told me about the Hotel Hathroi Palace in Jaipur. A couple of young guys took over the lease in mid 2015 and are turning it into what will be a cool and popular hangout. They already have a great chill space on the roof, are decorating and renovating and if you toss in great personalities it will rock in a year or so. This is an unashamed plug for the place that will hopefully increase their internet profile.
One of the residents around the Monkey Temple
I asked about a concert of some sort, I hadn’t seen any music yet. Yes, there is something on tomorrow night I am vaguely told. Yash to the rescue in his auto, we head off to somewhere, I have no idea where or what.
Turns out to be the very flash Hotel Diggi Palace, very flash indeed. Hmmm…. I am directed down a side street to the servants entrance and a sign announces that on a beautifully warm Jaipur night, the very flash back courtyard has been taken over by the Sufi Music Festival. I can’t believe my luck…again.
I got to see four vastly different performances. The first, with only about 10 other people was very devotional and everyone had to have their heads covered. The words to the “songs” were displayed using PowerPoint – good to see PP is just as bad everywhere in the world. The tabla player was incredible.
Crappy photo but I missed my opportunities, this guy was what I guessed is some sort of poet or performance artist. He certainly dresses well.
One great thing about the event that puzzled me was that all the announcements and banter by musicians was bilingual. First in Hindi, then in English. I was delighted, but being the only westerner there I wondered who the English was for.
The woman was the lead of this trio and had an extraordinary voice. The instrument, I have no idea of the name, rests on her shoulder as you see and is essentially a drone, it is strummed without any work on the neck at all.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DnSk_YnxIjQ
I didn’t want to mid another photo op, so I went down the front, in the VIP area, having earlier expressed my dismay at being turned back when I boldly tried to walk in at the beginning of the night. “But I am a VIP” I huffed and puffed to much laughter. This time I simply went to the other end of the fence where it was completely open. Down to the front, I sit on an empty VIP couch in row two, but is effectively the front row at this spot, a couple of photos, perfect. Great music, I make myself comfortable. I have the whole couch to myself, a bit further down some real VIPs including government ministers are being fawned over and photographed.
I am very comfortable now and regret leaving my bag and sandles back in the cheap seats. I consider going and getting them and making the move permanent, but have learned in the past that when you are scamming, it is good to not draw attention to yourself. Eventually a group of real VIPs join me on my couch, completely spoiling my premium experience by talking, using their phones, not clapping and just being on my couch. I think I may appear in a photo in a newspaper and have half of India speculating about who I am.
The headliner was great. An apparently well known young woman who performed contemporary rock Sufi music and the crowd went off…in an Indian way. I can’t speak for where you live, but had this been in Australia the audience would have been on their feet about half way through the set, dancing, clapping, singing. Not in India.
The video is early in her show, I got caught up in the event and as well as crowd watching forgot to shoot more video.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X1WglOOM5uo
Despite bursting with joy and excitement cheering and singing, people would jump up, dance for about 5 seconds then reluctantly sit down again. This was happening all over the audience. Despite all the fantastic energy, there weren’t even people dancing around the sides or back of the crowd. I was truly hoping she would invite everyone to get up so it would really go off. Unfortunately I didn’t think to video towards the end, so this will have to do.
Eventually as the final song built to the usual concert crescendo they couldn’t hold back and for the last 30 seconds the place erupted. At every other similar concert you and I have been to there are then screams and claps and whoops for an encore and of course the act obliges with their 3 pre planned encore songs.
But this is India, we just went home.
Footnote: never buy a tablet if you plan on producing content, they are for consumption. This post has been particularly painful to edit and has taken 2 days to (hopefully) get right.
Prayer by donation
There is no railway station in Pushkar, getting there involves a 1 hour, Rs14 (30¢ – no kidding) bus trip from Ajmer. Being very mindful of dates, needing to meet Sheila in Delhi on the 13th, I decided I could spend the night in Ajmer and check out Ajmer Sharif Dargah, the shrine (Dargah) of sufi saint, Moinuddin Chishti.
Entrance to the Daragh
My trip seems to have unintentionally evolved into visiting the holiest places of most of the religions. But it is easy to do because they are spectacular and usually the major “attraction” in a city.
If not for the Dargah, I wouldn’t recommend Ajmer, crowded with pilgrims, way more beggars than I have seen anywhere, a bit grotty and because Hinduism doesn’t seem to dominate, not many veg restaurants.
The Dargah was 5 minute walk from my hotel, so it was really crazy in the streets, pilgrims heading to the shrine. At the entrance I balked, it was quite intimidating, there are jostling people, security – it wasn’t at all welcoming. But I was there so I approached a guard and asked if it was OK to go in. He indicated another bloke and I was put into the hands of the beautiful Ajmed.
Fabulous passionate volunteer guide
Ajmed speaks excellent English and showed me around the complex, including into the inner sanctum, where I would never have ventured by myself. We had a long discussion as we walked and he seems a bit jaded with some aspect of his job or the people or the place and is quite open about it – I suggested his views were quite provocative, he agreed.
It was the end of school time and he likes to be home for his daughters, so I was invited to join him for tea, another serendipitous moment. You know those movies where people head down a maze of narrow alleys in a foreign city? The walk to his house was like that, no way would I be able to find my way back unaided.
I forget the daughter’s names I only know they beat me easily playing ludo on a phone. Both gorgeous, good English speakers, getting an education and with a vision for their future. I had only known him for an hour, but Ajmed’s influence was obvious. Oh, also he is an artist and his house walls are covered in his work.
Next morning to Pushkar, famous for a camel fair that is not until the end of November unfortunately. This was the first tricky “find the bus” mission I have had. By asking numerous people I work out where the bus goes from…sort of. I ask the conductor (every bus has one) “Pushkar?” and he kind of signs to let me know to catch his bus to the bus station for the real bus.
The real bus* is essentially a local bus with no English destination board or anything luxurious like that. But it is the right bus and in another reenactment of a movie scene, we are speeding along a winding road through (admittedly not very high) mountains with cars overtaking on the wrong side of the road approaching blind corners.
* not actual bus, for illustration purposes only
Pushkar is a tourist trap, but in a nice sense. It is the Byron Bay of Rajasthan. The town surrounds another holy place, a lake believed to have formed at the beginning of the world. The lake is surrounded by ghats where there is a non stop stream of people praying and bathing. This is all facilitated by many donation boxes and booths. Reminder, while it is a tourist attraction for us westerners, for most people it is a serious pilgrimage.
At dusk prayer time this incredible machine was going.
I wonder if there are Indian musicians bemoaning the fact that they have been replaced by a machine.
Like Byron, there are loads of Western tourists in Pushkar, for some reason many from Israel, but last night on the hotel rooftop Australia, UK, Norway, Argentina, Germany and Israel were all represented.
It is worth mentioning that as I got off the bus there was the usual “Please, my hotel” mob and the offer of a free two wheeler ride to a place near the lake with WiFi and Rs400 ($9) rooms got me. Another great hotel, good food, close to everywhere.
Nearby is yet another holy place, a rare Brahmin temple where I had a whistle blown at me for taking a photo. Hey, I had seen someone else so assumed it was OK.
The temple is covered in inscriptions memorialising family members.
Now in Jaipur, into Delhi tomorrow. I keep hearing stories about how crowded Delhi is, but they all come from people who flew into there. Hopefully after having been here for 4 weeks it will just seem like India.
Some random photos to finish and (shock horror) be more or less up to date.
Jaipur hotel at night. Some young guys took it over 2 months ago. In a year, when they have finished renovating and decorating, this place is going to seriously rock.
I’m sure this water is a legit Fosters product. Tastes better than the beer.
3 tier sleeper on an Indian train. It is actually not that bad, but you would need to experience why.
There are always kids happy to pose for a photo. But to get fun shots like this you play first, then ask for a photo ;o)
Deep fort
Despite my policy of saying Yes, there is a time I tend to say No. Getting off a train and being confronted by auto drivers and various other touts and hasslers. I brush past them saying No, acting like I know what I am doing and where I am going even though I usually have absolutely no idea.
Similarly in Jodhpur, Rajasthan. Out of the station and headed off in an arbitrary direction to find a hotel. I didn’t do very well and had walked for about half an hour when an auto driver approached me. Being away from the hustle of the station I asked if he knew a hotel and of course he did.
Rooftop next door to hotel, I think these were Papadams drying
Perhaps it is owned by his uncle, who cares, if it is a decent place that is all that matters. We head off down the main road, turn down a smaller road, into a dusty laneway and into a smaller dustier laneway if that is possible. I am not optimistic that this will turn out well…but based on my past experiences you already have an idea of the outcome.
Clock Tower Jodhpur
He leads me into the Discovery Hotel, a hole in the wall, the foyer is nothing special. Raj the manager is a good doppelganger for my friend Giri, a big smile, friendly, welcoming. He leads me 3 floors up a narrow, steep flight of stairs, 2 days after my Palitana climb this is torture.
But it is well worth the pain. The quaintest, cutest, best maintained hotel I have seen and just outside my room, a stunning view of Jodhpur Fort, just Rs500 ($10). I say I will take it.
It was small, but it was beautifully decorated, and that view…
Raj is a smart bastard. In a classic “would you like fries with that?” manoeuvre he says “let me show you another room”, we go up a couple more painful steps, around a corner and the room is more or less the same until he throws open a window and there, looming over the hotel is the fort. For an extra Rs300 I am a sucker and upgrade before I have even signed in.
View from my window
To cap it, there is a roof top restaurant that has 360° views over the Blue City and all the major tourist points Jodhpur has to offer. Not that I have been doing it tough, but this is bliss.
There is something about Jodhpur that elevated it to Favourite City So Far status. The local bazaar is crazy busy, the city is relatively clean, the architecture visually compelling, incredible historical stuff. Bliss.
Tour guide whose services I declined, despite taking his photo (with permission of course)
My first tourist indulgence I hire an auto for a few hours at 1/3 the price quoted on the street the previous day. He takes me to Meheganar Palace,
The Maharajah’s palace, I wasn’t invited upstairs for tea
Maharajahs’ cremation place and tombs
Tombs of the Maharajahs
and of course the Meheganar Fort where as usual, foreign tourists pay 10x the entry fee of locals.
But it does included an audio guide, exactly the sort of thing I usually resist and in another surprise, it turns out to be pretty good. Some great background and pointing out features that the average punter would have missed e.g. at the approach to the huge iron main gate there is a right angle turn so that attacking elephants couldn’t get a good run at it, they wouldn’t have wanted to anyway, at elephant head height it was studded with very nasty looking spikes.
This is all carved sandstone in Meheganar Fort
On the way back to the hotel my attention was caught by an open space that I couldn’t see into because of a low wall. Open space is pretty unusual in india and I was a bit intrigued by whether it might be a baoli or stepwell. See this post for background. I still don’t understand what made me curious, some sort of intuition? There was nothing at all to indicate anything special. I kept track of the route the auto took and it was effectively one straight street and not far.
A 10 minute walk back, as I approached I noticed a couple of tourists and a guide leaving, now I was very curious. Up 2 or 3 steps and my breath was taken away by the first full on baoli I have seen.
Jodhpur baoli or stepwell
Read the article linked to in the last post for more about these incredible structures. This was just awesome and now I am more determined to hunt them down, I have heard of one in Jaipur, where I am heading tomorrow.
Tricky to photograph and capture properly
Off to Pushkar on a 0700 train meant being vigilant about getting enough sleep and waking early enough. I had just dozed off when there was some thumping music in the street below and a peek out the window showed a crowd forming.
I’m sure this happens at 10PM every night on every street
That’s enough for me, clothes on, grab camera and into the throng. I had no idea, but it wasn’t hard to work out that this rather wooden looking guy was getting married.
My bucks night was never this much fun.
The procession continued, I tried to get back to sleep.
And the post title? A hat tip to HHGTTG (no spoilers in comments!)
Feels like Goa
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.
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
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).
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 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.
Time stopped
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 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
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…
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