We had a very leisurely departure from Varkala. Although we did get ripped off by the Tuk Tuk driver who took us to the train station. We knew it too, but since we had a train to catch we didn't really have much choice in the matter. He did drive around in circles for a while though, which was great. (read not so great.) I am guessing he was thinking the longer he took the more we would assume it was worth it.
We had originally planned to spend the next week town hopping our way to Gokarna, and we were going to skip Goa altogether. But, we have met quite a few other tourists since arriving in India and lots of them were going to be in different parts of Goa so we decided we'd like to meet up with them. We also decided that town hopping for a week was going to be too much hassle and not all that worth it. So instead we decided to spend the week split between two places before taking the train straight to Goa. It also made getting to Mumbai by the 31st much easier. We have a flight from Mumbai to Udapur on the 31st so we have to get there by then and we were starting to panic about how we were going to do so. Mumbai is roughly 750 kms from where we are now in Goa, and we wanted to be sure we knew how we were going to travel there.
After our unsolicited tour of Varkala town we arrived at the train station. It was only a half hours journey to Kollum where we were going to be spending the next two nights so we hadn't bothered to reserve seats. That meant that we had to know exactly which compartments of the train we were allowed to sit in and where we should wait on the platform. Of course we were not in the right place and when the train pulled in we literally had to sprint forward to attempt to board. After watching hopelessly for a few moments we realized that there was no way we were going to be able to squeeze onto the unreserved cars with our packs, and I was beginning to panic. But Justin did some very quick thinking and arranged with one of the conductors for us to stand between cars for the half hours ride to Kolllum. I was both grateful and not so grateful. Getting on the train was a relief, and exciting as it was my first Indian train trip, but riding between cars, near the toilets was really unpleasant. Thank goodness it was only half an hour.
After arriving in Kollum we had no trouble getting a ride to our hotel, which we had pre-arranged at one of the travel agencies of Varkala. It was nice enough and there was a TV, which made Justin happy, since the Golden Globes were happening while we were in town and he was excited to get the results. But the hotel was a bit out in the middle of nowhere and wasn't anything special. They did have amazing chai tea though.
Kollum is what I would call a living city/town. Meaning there isn't anything to see there really. No temples, or beautiful beaches or even much of a market. In fact there weren't even many other tourists that we could see. And so we were gawked at everywhere we went. We did see an interesting spice market on our walk back to the hotel one night though. The only reason to go to Kollum is because it is the gateway to the backwaters. All throughout Kerala, and even in parts if Goa and Karnataka, along the western coast, there are a number of intricate waterways and villages that subsist along a maze of smaller and larger canals. We took a canoe tour of some of these communities while in town. It was wonderful to float down the canal in a locally made wooden canoe, held together by coconut fibers. All the while our guide/gondolier pointed out different spice trees, fruit tress even tapioca trees. We also saw some interesting wildlife, including a rather sad looking elephant chained to a stump. I must say that when I look at an elephant I don't really think pet, but what do I know.
Highlights of Kollum
TV- I know it is shameful, but after a few weeks without we were grateful to get the news, and to be able to spend the evening lazing about watching movies
Backwater tour - beautiful, peaceful and interesting
Lowlights of Kollum
diner at the Hotel Nani - we waited forever, and all the Indians who'd arrive after us got served first. What gives?
Princess Jasmine and Aladdin - The Indian couple who we went on the backwater tour with. They sat right in front of us on the boat and proceeded to fawn all over each other and were very loud.
No street lamps - walking home one night I accidentally stepped in a swampy pile of i don't want to know what. And my entire foot was covered in brown sewage. Yucky
We stayed two nights in Kollum before catching a water ferry which was going to take us to Aleppey, further north. Although the water ferry was an eight hour journey on an uncomfortable fiberglass seat, it was a new and beautiful way to travel, complete with a stop at a local restaurant for lunch and chai tea. We also met some other travelers on board and had a run in with a very disgruntled European women from country x. Right as we were boarding we found some seats inside and sat down without too much thought. But then a rather disgruntled woman behind us, rudely implored us to keep moving to the back. Her tone was so unnecessary that it produced a laugh from both Justin and I, and the gentlemen sitting to my left. I turned around and said, "Hey, no problem, just relax alright," in a rather listen crazy tone of voice. After we had moved to a different section of the boat I heard the Brit who'd been sitting to my left ask her if she was alright. To which she replied, " NO. I am NOT alright." Whoa, glad I am not traveling with her. Shessh. Justin, Kieran (the Brit) and I proceeded to make fun of her the rest of the boat ride. And she was miserable the whole way, even her boyfriend who was traveling with her, who must have been a solid foot taller and much bigger than her seemed to cower if fear of her. We also met a Scottish couple who had cycled there way to India from Holland. Can you believe that? Riding a bike over 7,000 Kilometers. And they were hoping to make it all the way to Beijing. They might actually get there at the same time as us! I asked them what they had done to prepare for such an undertaking and they laughed and said, "nothing, we started in Holland." I guess that would be the best place to start. They were both so good natured and down to earth and I really admired them, their courage and gumption.
We were supposed to be met in Aleppey by a gentlemen named Mr. Baby, but he was nowhere to be found when we got off the boat. And we were hassled by so many touts and rickshaw drivers that we grew weary of waiting and eventually agreed to be driven to one of the hotels that was being offered to us, by an unusually soft spoken rickshaw driver. It didn't hurt that the place he wanted to take us, Gowri Guest House was listed in the India bible. (read Lonely Planet guide book.) We weren't very impressed initially, since they showed us the dodgiest room first and wanted 500 Rs for it a night. I told them that the room was definitely not worth 500Rs and did they have anything else to show us. "Well." he says " we have the huts at the back but they are 750Rs." To which I replied,
" Don't bother we wont spend 750 Rs."
"Oh wait, there is one hut that is 500Rs."
"O really" says I, "Well that is very fortunate for us isn't it." It was then that one of the young guys asked one of the most often heard questions in India, "Where from?" Now I was tired at this point and thought that although everyone asks you all the time where you are from, that this was a particularly odd time to ask, since we were in the middle of haggling over the price for the room. And so I responded tersely, "does it affect the price?"
"Hey hey, what's wrong." he says, "you don't like friendly people?"
I thought to myself shit, that was a bit bitchy and so I said, "No no, of course I like friendly people. We are from Canada."
After they had shown us the hut, at the back of the property. A beautiful room, surrounded by gardens full of hammocks and very quiet. The same guy was chatting with Justin when it was revealed that I am in fact an American.
"I can tell." he said good naturedly. I laughed and we agreed to stay for one night. The Gowri Guest House, turned out to be amazing. Not only was our friend Kieran also staying there, by chance, but the staff of young Indians were fun and cute and the place turned out to be the best place we have stayed so far. I of course now had a reputation and all of the guys were constantly chiding me and calling me the "Canadian" girl, while patting my head and bringing me flowers.
We had planned to move on the next day to Fort Cochin, but decided instead to stay in Aleppey an extra night and go directly to Erankulum where we were to catch our train to Goa late Thursday night. We didn't actually do much in Aleppey. Most people who go there only go to rent houseboats. But we loved the Gowri, with its friendly staff and live music every night, complete with covers of Neil Young and the Beatles. The owner also has a penchant for exotic animals, especially Australian ones. And there was quite a zoo there, with rabbits, chickens, and exotic birds. There was even an Emu. How on earth they got an Emu I will never know, but they had one. We met a really nice Australian guy, Elan, who told us that the owner really wants a kangaroo.
Highlights of Aleppey
The Gowri - best guest house in India
Meeting Kieran - best Brit in India
Lowlights of Aleppey
having to leave the Gowri
mosquito - I am convinced I am going to get Malaria on this trip. Although i probably wont get it till were in some really isolated part of Laos, and I will have to be airvacted to Thailand.
Before we knew it it was time to hit the road again. We were actually excited because we found out that we could see Avatar in Erankulum in 3d and Justin and I were both excited to go to see a movie in India. We were talking about it so much that Kieran decided he would come along with us for the experience. And what an experience it was. If you ever come to India and have the opportunity to go see a movie, do it. First of all when we showed up, an hour early I might add, the crowd outside the movie theatre was enormous. We were totally confused about what was going on, so being a woman I was allowed to go into the theatre and find out. I went into the concession office, which was the only place where there we any attendants to find out what the process was to get tickets. I think the guy felt bad for me, since I obviously didn't have a clue, and I was the only whitie there. It turns out that going to the movies in India is a lot like riding on the train. There are classes of tickets, although the seats aren't really any different. If you want reserved seating in the balcony, you can buy your tickets at the concession desk in advance. Those tickets cost 150Rs, roughly $3.00. If you want unreserved seats, a mere 10Rs, you have to wait until 15 minutes before the movie and when they open the gate there is a stampede of mostly young men who race up to the ticket desk. It was quite a spectacle. We opted for the pricier but far less hectic option of reserved seats in the balcony. Then when the movie started the entire theatre erupted in cheers and applause and shouts for the protectionist to turn up the volume. They were so loud that we missed the first five minutes of the movie. Then throughout the film when ever something exciting or visually interesting happened the theatre would erupt again. It was amazing. And the movie wasn't half bad either.
Afterward Justin and I still had time to kill before our train so the three of us went for dinner at a nearby restaurant. Dinner was excellent, but we were all a bit disappointed that we couldn't have beer at the restaurant with our meal. So afterward we went to a bar nearby. This bar, was so disgusting I felt nauseous upon entering. It smelled absolutely foul, and the lighting was so dark and dingy. The whole atmosphere made you feel like you were doing something really bad. I was also the only woman there, as has been a theme in India. In fact none of the bars we have been to have even had a toilet for women. But we decided to stay and have a drink. Thankfully the bar was closing at 10:30 and so we couldn't stay any longer. It was also about time for Justin and I to head to the train station so we said goodbye to Kieran and hopped in a rickshaw. We were on our way to the train station for our first overnight train trip. And we were both excited.
Highlights of Erankulum
The bus ride in - Kieran had an absolutely hilarious conversation with the conductor about the cultural differences in India and the West regarding marriage. The conductor was startled to learn that couples often live together before getting married, and that sometimes they don't even get married at all!
Avatar - The movie, the experience I will never forget it
Lowlights of Erankulum
The bar - truly frightening.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Boy, it's stressful in "God's Own Country."
We took a local bus from Pondicherry to Chennai airport. We were the only goras on the bus. If you want to get a sense of India, a real sense, skip the first class air-conditioned sleeper cars and take a ride in the unreserved sections of a train or bus. The amount of pushing and shoving to get on the bus baffles the mind, especially when compared to the unimaginable courtesy of the same passengers once the journey is underway. One minute a man, woman and (or) child is shoving you so hard it seems they could crush you and not five minutes later when they lightly brush your leg they apologize so profusely and genuinely, you can't help but laugh at the ironic contradiction. I am reading "Shantaram," a well known novel by an Australian fugitive in Bombay who describes this contradiction thus. India is a place of necessity. The amount of pushing ans shoving to get on the bus is necessary if you don't want to get left behind. But it is equal to the level of courtesy necessary to make the journey afterward, on the crowded bus, as pleasant as possible.
During the bus ride I felt a huge sense of elation, partly because we were moving on to somewhere new, but mostly because I was feeling well enough to actually get there. At the front of the bus was a sign that said its maximum capacity was 48. There were at least 70 people crowded on around us, and when we rolled out of town we picked up several more. Each bench seat had room for two, but in every row except ours there were three people seated. So when an elderly woman got on and asked to sit with us, we had to oblige. Unfortunately Justin is a solid head taller that the next tallest Indian and he was already uncomfortably folded into our seat with our backpacks a day bags strewn about us. So I, in my elation, gave up my seat to the old woman and sat on the floor. Well, she was horrified and throughout the whole of the journey looked at me with shock and scorn, and continued to pat the minuscule amount of space between her and Justin with an an expression that said, "How could you possibly prefer to sit on the ground when there is plenty of space for you right here."
When the bus finally rumbled into the dusty city of Chennai we were directed where to jump off, and I mean that quite literally as the bus never actually came to a stop. From there we walked to the small international airport to await our departure to Trivandrum. We had given ourselves plenty of time, since India is famous for turning 1 1/2 hour journeys into day long affairs. And so we were quite early for our flight and set up shop at the airport. For a while we wandered around the many stands and shops, but there wasn't much to do at Chennai international and so we eventually ended up sitting in corner waiting for our gate announcement.
While waiting we met another pair of travelers, our first really, who we seen around in Pondicherry. It is amazing how in this enormous country you continually see the same travelers in different places. We started chatted with them and eventually exchanged contact information. We weren't planning on going to Goa, where they were headed but we told them that if we changed our minds we would get in touch with them. And then all of a sudden it was time for us to scramble for the plane. That is another funny thing about Indian travel. You can be waiting somewhere for hours with no idea where your departure gate is, but once it is announced you usually have only moments to get to the gate or risk being left behind. So we hurriedly said goodbye to Sean and Aileen and boarded the plane for Trivandrum in the southern province of Kerala, God's Own Country.
The first thing I noticed about Kerala, and Trivandrum more specifically, is how much quieter it is than Tamil Nadu. During our ride from the airport to Vakala, where we were staying, Justin and I hardly spoke and the ride was surprisingly quiet and calm. A new sense of serenity permeated the air. It may also have been because we were riding in an Ambassador, the fantastic and iconic white India cabs. Being in an Ambassador for the first time after so many rickshaws felt a bit like being in a tank. It was a longish car trip from Trivandrum to Vakala, perhaps 40 minutes, although it still cost us less than $20. And it was quite dark so we were glad that we had made arrangements for a hotel for that first night in Vakala. We were planning to stay at the Hotel New Heaven for a week, but we knew upon arrival that we weren't going to be there longer than one night.
The room was nothing special and the ceiling fan whined so offensively it sounded like an animal was being tortured all night. Eventually I got up and turned it off, preferring to be woken up endlessly by the heat instead of having that sound creep into my dreams. Both Justin and I had a restless night's sleep that first night because of it, but also because of the mosquito net above up which was set so low that it lay directly on top of our faces and bodies and kept entangling us all night. How a mosquito net can be effective when it is laying right on top of you is beyond me, and in fact I know it is not. So when we woke the next morning our first priority was to scout out new accommodations in town for the remainder of our stay. There were plenty of options and we eventually settled on a place called the Bamboo Village where we got a great deal on a little freestanding bamboo hut. We spent the rest of the day strolling around Vakala beach taking it all in. And actually the rest of the week unfolded in much the same way.
We got into a routine of waking around 8 or 9 going to the Cafe del Mare for delicious coffee and breakfast. I had the same thing everyday. (Hard boiled eggs and toast. I'd prefer soft boiled, but after the deathness, as I have taken to calling my bout of illness in Pondi I am not about to risk Salmonella.) From there we would make our way to the beautiful beach, rent an umbrella for 150Rs and sometimes lounge chairs, and settle in for a full day of sunning, swimming and wave jumping. Vakala has gotten to be more crowded, apparently, in the last few years, but even still there was plenty of space on the beach and also a sense of being in on a still untapped secret.
My only criticism of the place, and it is a sort of catch 22, is that the beach town is actually 5 kilometer or so from the actual Vakala town, and so quite isolated from any real local population. And so, while this isolation from the hectic real life of India provided a nice and relaxed feeling, it also felt a bit false and almost too easy. This also means of course that everyone in Vakala is a tourist or a local who works in the tourist industry. There are a dozen restaurants all serving a variation of the same thing, and tons of shops selling virtually identical souvenirs and garments. I did however, do some shopping at a few places, including a shop run by a pair of brothers from Kashmir who had some of the most beautiful cashmere shawls, bed spreads, and curtains I have ever seen.
Throughout the whole of the week, Justin and I would make a guilty joke about how difficult we were finding life in Vakala and how perpetually stressed out we were. We also made jokes at the expense of other tourists we saw, because despite the beauty of this place, and the indisputable ease with which everything could be attained there were so many sour faces. And Justin commented that it reminded him of that Sheryl Crow song, "If it makes you happy, why the hell are you so sad." We never did figure out what the bad smell in Vakala was that made everyone look like they were smelling a fart. We vowed not to be like all those other tourists and smiled almost the entire week we were there. Especially because, although it was too easy, after long fall of constant work for us both it was nice to have part of the trip feel more like a vacation than travel. India is amazing but in order to see it that way you have to fight for it a bit, so it was nice to not have to fight at all in Vakala.
We also enjoyed meeting other tourists. The first was a couple from Australia, who we met as we were checking out of the Hotel New Heaven on our first morning in town. Lara and Stewart have an itinerary very similar to Justin and I although they are on a faster track and will be in se Asia by February, avoiding the insane heat that will greet us when we arrive in April. Right off the bat we loved them, and agreed to meet them for a drink that evening at Rock and Roll, the local bar, that never played any rock and roll. Lara and I also exchanged novels we had recently finished which delighted me. And I hope that will be a trend I can continue throughout the trip, picking up and discarding books with other travelers.
Through Lara and Stewart we also met Renee and Mary Ann, or Pierre and Bobby Joe as Justin and I took to calling them. PB and J were also Canadian, from Surrey near Vancouver. Unfortunately it was clear after that first night of drinks that Mary Ann was not a big fan of mine. I accidentally offended her by saying that Ontario has better lakes than BC and that Canadian cigarettes are disgusting. She doesn't smoke but she took it personally, and I was no longer allowed to wear the figurative Canadian traveler badge in their eyes again. In fact they introduced me as the American of our sextet for the remainder of the week. To her credit, Mary Ann did seem to come around about me over the course of the week and when we said our goodbye she hesitated and then gave me a very warm hug. We didn't exchange any contact information but they did promise to find us on facebook. Lara and Stewart on the other hand were headed to Allepey and then to Goa and so we figured we would run into them again. They also promised to give us some tips for the next few legs of our trip since they will be only a few steps ahead of us for the next few months.
There was some unfortunate news which we learned in Vakala and that is that the Indian government has recently changed the laws governing multi entry VISA, making it impossible for us to leave for Nepal for ten days at the end of February as we had originally planned. So we had to reorganize our trip slightly and change our train booking to stay in Rishikesh an extra week. We chose Rishikesh because we can do a trek for a few days from there, which is what we had hoped to do in Nepal. So, even though it is disappointing it isn't going to ruin the trip. What is disappointing is that after going through quite a bit of hassle to make the needed changes we've learned that we could have gotten around the new law in a number ways and still gone to Nepal, but oh well, such is life. We also decided to change our original plan of skipping Goa and we will be arriving there in the next few days. At the end of our week, we were both sad and excited to be leaving Vakala for Kollum and the backwater region of Kerala...
highlights of Vakala
wave jumping - Justin and I loved the Indian Ocean and the waves of Vakala were awesome
great Italian food - at the Italian Cafe
eggs for breakfast - I love Indian food but I can't eat curry for breakfast
shopping - needs no explanation
vacationing - travel is great but vacationing is the real relaxation
cafe latte- at the cafe del mare
umbrellas, lounge chairs, and fruit at your fingertips- while at the beach
getting a tan - a real one I promise
cruising for hot guys - and it was like shooting fish in a barrel
lowlights of Vakala
pouty tourists
Justin got a less horrible but still shitty round of TD- pun intended
crappy music at all of the bars
The Hotel New Heaven
During the bus ride I felt a huge sense of elation, partly because we were moving on to somewhere new, but mostly because I was feeling well enough to actually get there. At the front of the bus was a sign that said its maximum capacity was 48. There were at least 70 people crowded on around us, and when we rolled out of town we picked up several more. Each bench seat had room for two, but in every row except ours there were three people seated. So when an elderly woman got on and asked to sit with us, we had to oblige. Unfortunately Justin is a solid head taller that the next tallest Indian and he was already uncomfortably folded into our seat with our backpacks a day bags strewn about us. So I, in my elation, gave up my seat to the old woman and sat on the floor. Well, she was horrified and throughout the whole of the journey looked at me with shock and scorn, and continued to pat the minuscule amount of space between her and Justin with an an expression that said, "How could you possibly prefer to sit on the ground when there is plenty of space for you right here."
When the bus finally rumbled into the dusty city of Chennai we were directed where to jump off, and I mean that quite literally as the bus never actually came to a stop. From there we walked to the small international airport to await our departure to Trivandrum. We had given ourselves plenty of time, since India is famous for turning 1 1/2 hour journeys into day long affairs. And so we were quite early for our flight and set up shop at the airport. For a while we wandered around the many stands and shops, but there wasn't much to do at Chennai international and so we eventually ended up sitting in corner waiting for our gate announcement.
While waiting we met another pair of travelers, our first really, who we seen around in Pondicherry. It is amazing how in this enormous country you continually see the same travelers in different places. We started chatted with them and eventually exchanged contact information. We weren't planning on going to Goa, where they were headed but we told them that if we changed our minds we would get in touch with them. And then all of a sudden it was time for us to scramble for the plane. That is another funny thing about Indian travel. You can be waiting somewhere for hours with no idea where your departure gate is, but once it is announced you usually have only moments to get to the gate or risk being left behind. So we hurriedly said goodbye to Sean and Aileen and boarded the plane for Trivandrum in the southern province of Kerala, God's Own Country.
The first thing I noticed about Kerala, and Trivandrum more specifically, is how much quieter it is than Tamil Nadu. During our ride from the airport to Vakala, where we were staying, Justin and I hardly spoke and the ride was surprisingly quiet and calm. A new sense of serenity permeated the air. It may also have been because we were riding in an Ambassador, the fantastic and iconic white India cabs. Being in an Ambassador for the first time after so many rickshaws felt a bit like being in a tank. It was a longish car trip from Trivandrum to Vakala, perhaps 40 minutes, although it still cost us less than $20. And it was quite dark so we were glad that we had made arrangements for a hotel for that first night in Vakala. We were planning to stay at the Hotel New Heaven for a week, but we knew upon arrival that we weren't going to be there longer than one night.
The room was nothing special and the ceiling fan whined so offensively it sounded like an animal was being tortured all night. Eventually I got up and turned it off, preferring to be woken up endlessly by the heat instead of having that sound creep into my dreams. Both Justin and I had a restless night's sleep that first night because of it, but also because of the mosquito net above up which was set so low that it lay directly on top of our faces and bodies and kept entangling us all night. How a mosquito net can be effective when it is laying right on top of you is beyond me, and in fact I know it is not. So when we woke the next morning our first priority was to scout out new accommodations in town for the remainder of our stay. There were plenty of options and we eventually settled on a place called the Bamboo Village where we got a great deal on a little freestanding bamboo hut. We spent the rest of the day strolling around Vakala beach taking it all in. And actually the rest of the week unfolded in much the same way.
We got into a routine of waking around 8 or 9 going to the Cafe del Mare for delicious coffee and breakfast. I had the same thing everyday. (Hard boiled eggs and toast. I'd prefer soft boiled, but after the deathness, as I have taken to calling my bout of illness in Pondi I am not about to risk Salmonella.) From there we would make our way to the beautiful beach, rent an umbrella for 150Rs and sometimes lounge chairs, and settle in for a full day of sunning, swimming and wave jumping. Vakala has gotten to be more crowded, apparently, in the last few years, but even still there was plenty of space on the beach and also a sense of being in on a still untapped secret.
My only criticism of the place, and it is a sort of catch 22, is that the beach town is actually 5 kilometer or so from the actual Vakala town, and so quite isolated from any real local population. And so, while this isolation from the hectic real life of India provided a nice and relaxed feeling, it also felt a bit false and almost too easy. This also means of course that everyone in Vakala is a tourist or a local who works in the tourist industry. There are a dozen restaurants all serving a variation of the same thing, and tons of shops selling virtually identical souvenirs and garments. I did however, do some shopping at a few places, including a shop run by a pair of brothers from Kashmir who had some of the most beautiful cashmere shawls, bed spreads, and curtains I have ever seen.
Throughout the whole of the week, Justin and I would make a guilty joke about how difficult we were finding life in Vakala and how perpetually stressed out we were. We also made jokes at the expense of other tourists we saw, because despite the beauty of this place, and the indisputable ease with which everything could be attained there were so many sour faces. And Justin commented that it reminded him of that Sheryl Crow song, "If it makes you happy, why the hell are you so sad." We never did figure out what the bad smell in Vakala was that made everyone look like they were smelling a fart. We vowed not to be like all those other tourists and smiled almost the entire week we were there. Especially because, although it was too easy, after long fall of constant work for us both it was nice to have part of the trip feel more like a vacation than travel. India is amazing but in order to see it that way you have to fight for it a bit, so it was nice to not have to fight at all in Vakala.
We also enjoyed meeting other tourists. The first was a couple from Australia, who we met as we were checking out of the Hotel New Heaven on our first morning in town. Lara and Stewart have an itinerary very similar to Justin and I although they are on a faster track and will be in se Asia by February, avoiding the insane heat that will greet us when we arrive in April. Right off the bat we loved them, and agreed to meet them for a drink that evening at Rock and Roll, the local bar, that never played any rock and roll. Lara and I also exchanged novels we had recently finished which delighted me. And I hope that will be a trend I can continue throughout the trip, picking up and discarding books with other travelers.
Through Lara and Stewart we also met Renee and Mary Ann, or Pierre and Bobby Joe as Justin and I took to calling them. PB and J were also Canadian, from Surrey near Vancouver. Unfortunately it was clear after that first night of drinks that Mary Ann was not a big fan of mine. I accidentally offended her by saying that Ontario has better lakes than BC and that Canadian cigarettes are disgusting. She doesn't smoke but she took it personally, and I was no longer allowed to wear the figurative Canadian traveler badge in their eyes again. In fact they introduced me as the American of our sextet for the remainder of the week. To her credit, Mary Ann did seem to come around about me over the course of the week and when we said our goodbye she hesitated and then gave me a very warm hug. We didn't exchange any contact information but they did promise to find us on facebook. Lara and Stewart on the other hand were headed to Allepey and then to Goa and so we figured we would run into them again. They also promised to give us some tips for the next few legs of our trip since they will be only a few steps ahead of us for the next few months.
There was some unfortunate news which we learned in Vakala and that is that the Indian government has recently changed the laws governing multi entry VISA, making it impossible for us to leave for Nepal for ten days at the end of February as we had originally planned. So we had to reorganize our trip slightly and change our train booking to stay in Rishikesh an extra week. We chose Rishikesh because we can do a trek for a few days from there, which is what we had hoped to do in Nepal. So, even though it is disappointing it isn't going to ruin the trip. What is disappointing is that after going through quite a bit of hassle to make the needed changes we've learned that we could have gotten around the new law in a number ways and still gone to Nepal, but oh well, such is life. We also decided to change our original plan of skipping Goa and we will be arriving there in the next few days. At the end of our week, we were both sad and excited to be leaving Vakala for Kollum and the backwater region of Kerala...
highlights of Vakala
wave jumping - Justin and I loved the Indian Ocean and the waves of Vakala were awesome
great Italian food - at the Italian Cafe
eggs for breakfast - I love Indian food but I can't eat curry for breakfast
shopping - needs no explanation
vacationing - travel is great but vacationing is the real relaxation
cafe latte- at the cafe del mare
umbrellas, lounge chairs, and fruit at your fingertips- while at the beach
getting a tan - a real one I promise
cruising for hot guys - and it was like shooting fish in a barrel
lowlights of Vakala
pouty tourists
Justin got a less horrible but still shitty round of TD- pun intended
crappy music at all of the bars
The Hotel New Heaven
Thursday, January 14, 2010
"How do you say, 'Excuse me, which way to the hospital,' in Hindi"
After arriving in
We arrived and had our rickshaw driver take us to one of the recommended guest houses, the Hotel Continental. Unfortunately there weren’t any rooms available but, as seems to be a theme in
After checking in we decided to wander around town. We strolled along the lovely promenade taking in the
The next morning in the hopes of shaking off the last vestiges of winter we wanted to go to the beach but we weren’t sure exactly where to go. So we decided to ask around at breakfast. We went to T-space, a lovely place, which became our regular breakfast spot while in Pondi. Over delicious baguettes with jam and butter and fresh fruit with honey and yogurt we asked the affectionate French expat owner Caty, who looked like she knew a thing or two about good beaches where she would recommend we go, and after eating we took her recommendation and headed for the shores.
The beach was lovely, if not a bit isolated and we spent a fantastic day sunning and wading practically undisturbed. However, in my enthusiasm I threw patience to the wind in the hopes of getting some colour and did not wear nearly enough sunblock. (read I did not wear sunblock.) When we returned to town in the afternoon I could tell that I was going to have a burn, but it didn’t seem to be too bad, at least, not yet. After a late lunch we wanted to explore Pondi a bit more, and so we went in search of the famed Sri Aurobindo Ashram. Aurobindo was a guru who collected devotees during the late 19th and early 20th century, including a French woman who became a guru in her own right and is now known as Mother. At the Ashram I was having a lovely stroll around the courtyard when I noticed that there was a commotion gathered around some sort of alter and so I moved closer to examine what everyone seemed to be on about.
As I was heading toward the shrine I some how got swept up in a crowd of Indian women and was pushed into a kind of procession circling the flower strewn alter of Sri Aurobindo. All of the women were prostrating themselves across the shrine and making wild gesticulations culminating in their eating a leaf from a small bowl of water at the end of the procession. Having always been one for religious theatrics, i.e crossing myself at cathedrals, despite being a baptized Presbyterian, (blasphemy I know) I bent forward mimicking the women ahead of me and took a leaf from the bowl, and popped it into my mouth. The kiss of death. No sooner had I swallowed the basil leaf did it dawn on me that I just eaten something from an unknown bowl of water from god only knows where. I fretted over that a while but didn’t have much time to worry since there was nothing I could do about my impulsive action. Also Justin and I were planning on taking a free evening yoga class at the local community centre and we had to rush off or we were going to be late.
The atmosphere in the class was fantastic. It was on the upstairs floor a large French colonial building facing out towards the Bay, with huge windows that were left open so that a strong breeze was blowing in on us thorough the class. The content left a little something to be desired however, and at one point I was struck by how very Communist China the whole thing seemed. Our instructor had, I hate to say, a very irritating, high-pitched, shrill voice and she kept shouting things like, “You’re heart rate is increasing OBSERVE IT.” We enjoyed the exercise nonetheless and went to bed that night with smiles on our lips, content from a full day’s activity. However, my smile quickly faded the next morning when I woke, painfully stiff from the yoga, sun burned within an inch of my life and with the pounding realization that I had significant heat stroke. I also had the early warning signs that something in my stomach was not quite right. And after breakfast I was proven seriously right. The cramping began immediately and the continuous need to relieve myself soon followed. By the evening I was in so much pain I spent almost the entire night in the bathroom. By the next morning Justin was alarmed to find me seriously weak and a bit delirious, and when we realized there was blood in the toilet from my relieving myself he dragged me to the hospital. Once there we sat through the receptionist’s frowns of disapproval as we explained that Justin was not my husband before being permitted to see the doctor. I gave him the short list of my symptoms and he prescribed that I take coconut water, black tea and a strong round of antibiotics.
After taking the antibiotics I promptly vomited, the first of three such pleasures. Justin insisted that I eat something despite the fact that eating was possibly the last thing on earth I wanted to do, aside from shitting which was definitely the last thing on earth I wanted to do. I will pause here to note that if you are disturbed in any way by the frank discussion of diarrhea, vomiting and other such personal bodily functions you are forewarned to either get over it, or stop reading for the next few months, because I am sensing a recurring theme. I digress; thankfully we still had a few days left in Pondy before we had to take the bus to Chennai for our flight to
On Monday, the day of our departure I was gratefully relieved to find myself in fairly stable condition and we bid our goodbyes to Caty, whom we had come to greatly enjoy and
Highlights of
T-Space - breakfast and Caty
Delcious steak - something I thought I would definitely never find in
The Bay of
Auroville – I didn’t mention it in the article but this kooky place, is actually an international community technically not part of India, and it was founded by Mother on the bases of creating a community of likeminded individuals committed to the yogic way of life in all respects. Click here to learn more about this far out place. We visited Auroville on Sunday afternoon and I enjoyed it more for the ability to actually move 100 feet from a toilet for the first time in two days that for the actual place.
The bathrooms at the Promenade hotel – I spent quite a bit of time at this particular location and have never appreciated a public bathroom with a real toilet, toilet paper, and a fan so much in my life. It didn’t hurt that they also had an air sickness bag attached to the wastebasket, which I swiped just in case.
The bar at the Promenade - beautiful views of the Bay and they had ginger ale, no small feet in
Lowlights of
As if I have to mention getting violently ill - but let me reiterate I was violently ill.
Our hotel location - I support religious expression but calls to worship at 5 am over a loud speaker are an unpleasant wake up call
St Josephs Hospital – (for the experience not its existence, particularly for the looks of sheer scorn at being an unwed female traveling with a male companion. I wonder what they might have thought if we’d explained about Justin’s sexual preferences)
The enormous cockroach that spent the week with us in our room. - I named him Pegasus. He was without a doubt the largest cockroach I have ever seen, so big in fact that I couldn’t bring myself to kill him because I knew he would have left a ferocious reminder of his existence.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
programer's note - Toronto to Pondi
Since I am traveling in India and southeast Asia for the next six months I will not be able to post with the same regularity that many of you have come to expect from the Property appraisers. However, my goal is to post once every week or two with stories from my travels. If possible I will try to include pictures but it will probably be mostly written since I didn't bring my laptop. Justin and I have been in India about a week. I got lucky on my departure out of Toronto and what should have been a hellish three days, via America, turned into a dreamy (still drunken) New Years Day departure straight outta Toronto. I got to London and met Justin and then he and I spent one awful, cold night at Heathrow before boarding an Air India flight to Mumbai and then Bangalore. We made the smart impulse decision to bring/take our Air India blankets with us and have used them every night since. Apparently blankets are not part of the budget hotel experience here. Not that you really need them since it is 30 degrees C in the middle of the night. We spent two days exploring Bangalore and found the city to be confusing but beautifully green and lush. There are several large parks and the LalBagh Botanical gardens which we really enjoyed. While in town we also partook in a session of Ayurvedic massage, which is just glorified rubbing whilst naked. Although, having two people rub you all over ain't something I would ever complain about. It was a bit arresting to arrive at the spa, smack dab in the middle of Bangalore and be greeted by a cow. But we are getting used it.
Highlights of Bangalore
delicious sugary coffee at the vegetarian restaurant across from our budget lodge
Ayurvedic massage
Queen's Restaurant on Church street (nice toronto reference)
the nice travel agent who helped Justin and I book almost all of our India travel plans
Lowlights of Bangalore
getting horribly lost on the way to Cubbon Park
MTR a well known and can't be missed restaurant being closed on Mondays (the only day we could go)
arriving at our originally planned Ayurvedic massage destination only to learn it has since moved to Mysore
Next up we left Bangalore early Tuesday morning to head for Thiruvannamalia - don't bother trying to pronounce it, we didn't - which is a very holy temple town in Tamil Nadu one of the south eastern provinces if India. Although the guide book suggests visiting Thiruvannamalia as a day trip we decided we'd like to stay two night, because we hoped to practice some yoga and hike Mt. Arunachala, in what many whities rave is their favourite place in India. Unfortunately Justin and I would not agree. Although we did end up liking the hotel we stayed in on the outskirts of town we found this temple town to be so frantic and overwhelming that only ended us staying one night.
It started with what we have since dubbed the worst meal in India so far before heading to the Temple itself. You are not allowed to wear your shoes inside the temple walls which is fine but on our way in we were conned into believing you had to wear flower wreaths around your neck which cost us 50Rs, only to find that we were the only ones wearing them once we got inside. Opps, oh well, thankfully 50Rs or Rupees is only about 1 dollar so not a big loss. The Temple is absolutely phenomenal but it struck me as a big tourist trap with "priests" trying to get you to "donate" at every corner. Also there was an elephant on display who blesses you for 5 Rs, his big watering eyes made me sad, and reminded me of Water for Elephants. We later learned, from an Indian who had grown up in Thriuv that if you feed an Elephant rotten mangoes they charge, which he had seen once and he assured us that you really don't know an elephant until it is barreling down on you at top speed. I am not sorry we missed that.
We did get to go through the inner sanctum of the temple with a guide, usually whities are not allowed in but if you are with a local it is ok. Of course after he had led us through he wanted us to pay him 500Rs. I knew it was coming but I think it was somewhat of a shock to Justin who tends to always want to give people the benefit of the doubt. I was feeling irritable and so I flat out refused, which looking back was not very kind of me since we would not have even been allowed in without him.
After we left the Temple we tried to make our way back to the Ashram part of town (read - where all the kooky white people hang out) but I began to feel that familiar feeling in my stomach that told me now was not the time to get lost/stray far from a toilet. In addition to having an unsettled stomach we found the streets surrounding the Temple so thoroughly chaotic and overwhelming that we got into a rikshaw and went to the Ashram of Sri Ramana - some dude who lived in a cave and therefore has thousands of devotees, mostly whities who would never dream of living in a cave, but like to come meditate at the beautiful ashram built in his honor. Justin wanted to inquire about yoga at the Ashram so I took my leave as gracefully as possible and made a beeline for the bathroom (read - indoor ditch.) What happened next was so violent and unpleasant that I will not give you any specifics but it was definitely not graceful. Of course after I had finished I realized I only had a meager scrap of tp and some small receipts from various expenditures. Indians use a hand/hose system for cleaning oneself but my vanity had not really allowed me to go that far until this moment. Anyway, that is enough of that i think you get the picture.
After my stomach had settled enough for me to feel comfortable being more than ten feet from the toilet I went to find Justin and inform him that I didn't think yoga would be a good idea for me or the people around me and we set off for the hotel. We got there just in the nick of time before round two of Montezuma's revenge struck me. I took some Imodium and lay down awhile and gratefully my stomach began to settle enough so that I could join Justin for dinner at another hotel a bit further down the road. We had a quiet, simple meal, soup for me, and returned early to the hotel for bed.
The next morning after a surprisingly restful night we woke early with the hope of climbing the Mountain, which is supposed to afford great views of the Temple from above. After a quick Indian breakfast (read - doesn't anyone eat eggs around here?) we made our way towards town. We stopped at a chai stand where some kooky looking long-haired Germans, who looked like they had been here a while were sat, so we joined them hoping for some tea and a chat about how to get to the base of the mountain. However, when I mentioned hiking up the mountain they gave a look of such horror and shock as to deter even Sir Hilary from such an undertaking. Instead suggesting that we walk around the base of the mountain if we were so inclined. As we were chatting I felt a large bug begin to descend down my back and jumped up with such force that I broke my tea cup and spilled hot tea all over my pristine white outfit. It was while I was recovering from the shock that Justin leaned in and said,
"would you like to leave for Pondicherry today?"...
highlights of Thiruvannamalia
temple hotel on the outskirts of town
the Temple's architecture and general splendor
Manna breakfast (we did actually find some eggs and oatmeal, I guess those white people were good for something)
Janine the French woman we met on the bus who helped us into town and gave us the lowdown - "Thiruvannamalia is like a guru shopping mall." We had actually dubbed her French Jean before we even met her, she was that cool.
Getting out of town
lowlights
see above
We arrived in Pondicherry late that afternoon and right away we could tell this place was going to be a much better fit for us. Maybe it was because of the sea or maybe it was that one of the local ashrams gives free yoga everyday at 6:30 pm. Stay tuned....
Highlights of Bangalore
delicious sugary coffee at the vegetarian restaurant across from our budget lodge
Ayurvedic massage
Queen's Restaurant on Church street (nice toronto reference)
the nice travel agent who helped Justin and I book almost all of our India travel plans
Lowlights of Bangalore
getting horribly lost on the way to Cubbon Park
MTR a well known and can't be missed restaurant being closed on Mondays (the only day we could go)
arriving at our originally planned Ayurvedic massage destination only to learn it has since moved to Mysore
Next up we left Bangalore early Tuesday morning to head for Thiruvannamalia - don't bother trying to pronounce it, we didn't - which is a very holy temple town in Tamil Nadu one of the south eastern provinces if India. Although the guide book suggests visiting Thiruvannamalia as a day trip we decided we'd like to stay two night, because we hoped to practice some yoga and hike Mt. Arunachala, in what many whities rave is their favourite place in India. Unfortunately Justin and I would not agree. Although we did end up liking the hotel we stayed in on the outskirts of town we found this temple town to be so frantic and overwhelming that only ended us staying one night.
It started with what we have since dubbed the worst meal in India so far before heading to the Temple itself. You are not allowed to wear your shoes inside the temple walls which is fine but on our way in we were conned into believing you had to wear flower wreaths around your neck which cost us 50Rs, only to find that we were the only ones wearing them once we got inside. Opps, oh well, thankfully 50Rs or Rupees is only about 1 dollar so not a big loss. The Temple is absolutely phenomenal but it struck me as a big tourist trap with "priests" trying to get you to "donate" at every corner. Also there was an elephant on display who blesses you for 5 Rs, his big watering eyes made me sad, and reminded me of Water for Elephants. We later learned, from an Indian who had grown up in Thriuv that if you feed an Elephant rotten mangoes they charge, which he had seen once and he assured us that you really don't know an elephant until it is barreling down on you at top speed. I am not sorry we missed that.
We did get to go through the inner sanctum of the temple with a guide, usually whities are not allowed in but if you are with a local it is ok. Of course after he had led us through he wanted us to pay him 500Rs. I knew it was coming but I think it was somewhat of a shock to Justin who tends to always want to give people the benefit of the doubt. I was feeling irritable and so I flat out refused, which looking back was not very kind of me since we would not have even been allowed in without him.
After we left the Temple we tried to make our way back to the Ashram part of town (read - where all the kooky white people hang out) but I began to feel that familiar feeling in my stomach that told me now was not the time to get lost/stray far from a toilet. In addition to having an unsettled stomach we found the streets surrounding the Temple so thoroughly chaotic and overwhelming that we got into a rikshaw and went to the Ashram of Sri Ramana - some dude who lived in a cave and therefore has thousands of devotees, mostly whities who would never dream of living in a cave, but like to come meditate at the beautiful ashram built in his honor. Justin wanted to inquire about yoga at the Ashram so I took my leave as gracefully as possible and made a beeline for the bathroom (read - indoor ditch.) What happened next was so violent and unpleasant that I will not give you any specifics but it was definitely not graceful. Of course after I had finished I realized I only had a meager scrap of tp and some small receipts from various expenditures. Indians use a hand/hose system for cleaning oneself but my vanity had not really allowed me to go that far until this moment. Anyway, that is enough of that i think you get the picture.
After my stomach had settled enough for me to feel comfortable being more than ten feet from the toilet I went to find Justin and inform him that I didn't think yoga would be a good idea for me or the people around me and we set off for the hotel. We got there just in the nick of time before round two of Montezuma's revenge struck me. I took some Imodium and lay down awhile and gratefully my stomach began to settle enough so that I could join Justin for dinner at another hotel a bit further down the road. We had a quiet, simple meal, soup for me, and returned early to the hotel for bed.
The next morning after a surprisingly restful night we woke early with the hope of climbing the Mountain, which is supposed to afford great views of the Temple from above. After a quick Indian breakfast (read - doesn't anyone eat eggs around here?) we made our way towards town. We stopped at a chai stand where some kooky looking long-haired Germans, who looked like they had been here a while were sat, so we joined them hoping for some tea and a chat about how to get to the base of the mountain. However, when I mentioned hiking up the mountain they gave a look of such horror and shock as to deter even Sir Hilary from such an undertaking. Instead suggesting that we walk around the base of the mountain if we were so inclined. As we were chatting I felt a large bug begin to descend down my back and jumped up with such force that I broke my tea cup and spilled hot tea all over my pristine white outfit. It was while I was recovering from the shock that Justin leaned in and said,
"would you like to leave for Pondicherry today?"...
highlights of Thiruvannamalia
temple hotel on the outskirts of town
the Temple's architecture and general splendor
Manna breakfast (we did actually find some eggs and oatmeal, I guess those white people were good for something)
Janine the French woman we met on the bus who helped us into town and gave us the lowdown - "Thiruvannamalia is like a guru shopping mall." We had actually dubbed her French Jean before we even met her, she was that cool.
Getting out of town
lowlights
see above
We arrived in Pondicherry late that afternoon and right away we could tell this place was going to be a much better fit for us. Maybe it was because of the sea or maybe it was that one of the local ashrams gives free yoga everyday at 6:30 pm. Stay tuned....
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