Ok, so I have exams, no biggy, had some before, and I;m pretty sure I'll have some more (the fact that I have another one next Thursday makes this pretty obvious). But come on, isn't it bad enough that I have to drop everything, study really hard for a week and then get up early and waiting in the freezing cold for half an hour before I begin. Isn't that enough.
Why must I be placed on the seat right next to the door that I opened every five minutes to let late students in, and as soon as they finally stop coming, to let people out! Why do I have to be placed next to the girl that insists on whiting out every blemish on her paper and even goes to the extent of CUTTING OUT a page that had too many errors. She brought a Stanley knife and ruler into the exam for God sake, what the hell is that about!
Then there was the girl behind her who had to cough, but not little polite 'exam hall' coughs, these were nasty, go to the bathroom and turn the tap on coughs, I felt ill, it was awful. I could go on but you'd think that I wasn't;t actually writing my paper just being disturbed. Partly true.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Friday, May 26, 2006
East Richmond Station - Medium Density Housing
Here it is, my first design for Uni in two years believe it or not, enjoy the pretty pictures.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Varanasi - The Oldest City in the World
32hours seems a long time to spend confined to a hard sleeper with 5 engineers, but for some reason it went surprisingly quickly. Despite the fact that over the entire trip I only moved about 100m (and that was only to get some water at a station) there was always something going on, meals being served or ordered, fascinated conversations about Ohms law and the properties of Aluminium and lessons in Hindi. I had the lower berth and on the top was an English electrical engineer, Steve,while on the other side of the compartment was another electrical engineer and his friend the metallurgical engineer and throughout the trip their friend the civil engineer, technical engineer and mechanical engineer joined in on all the fun.
At around 5am on the 13 we arrived in Varanasi Junction Train Station and I was greeted on the platform by a very tired man who held out a scrap of paper with "Bob BABIDOV" scribbled on it and "The Alka Hotel" beneath. It wasn't the smartly dressed hotel employee holding a large cardboard sign with MY name but at 5am it was good enough.
After a chilly rickshaw ride though the main streets of Varanasi before being left at the barriers that stop vehicles other than bike from entering the maze of ridiculously, impossibly, frustrating streets that are the old city of Varanasi.
Steve and I had arranged to meet for breakfast later that morning and together with another tourist we met onboard the train, Anja from St Petersburg, we enjoyed our first continental meal in 2 days, poached eggs on brown toast with hash browns and coffee.
Finally feeling satisfied we headed away from the main roads and head first into the labyrinth towards the mighty Ganges River.
At around 5am on the 13 we arrived in Varanasi Junction Train Station and I was greeted on the platform by a very tired man who held out a scrap of paper with "Bob BABIDOV" scribbled on it and "The Alka Hotel" beneath. It wasn't the smartly dressed hotel employee holding a large cardboard sign with MY name but at 5am it was good enough.
After a chilly rickshaw ride though the main streets of Varanasi before being left at the barriers that stop vehicles other than bike from entering the maze of ridiculously, impossibly, frustrating streets that are the old city of Varanasi.
Steve and I had arranged to meet for breakfast later that morning and together with another tourist we met onboard the train, Anja from St Petersburg, we enjoyed our first continental meal in 2 days, poached eggs on brown toast with hash browns and coffee.
Finally feeling satisfied we headed away from the main roads and head first into the labyrinth towards the mighty Ganges River.
Reflections
After being back in Melbourne (good old Melbourne) for almost 2 months it is finally time to publish the forgotten blog, written in my final hours in India and as yet unseen by anyone but you, yes you right now perhaps are the very first living soul to read the last thoughts I had in India...
Enjoy.
Rickshaw rides that make a rollercoaster or dodgem cars obsolete
The laidback attitude to everything, it is a feature of every aspect of Indian society, from the cabbies, waiters, and police. Call it shanti, call it apathy, call it plain laziness, but without it it just wouldn't be India
The ability to have a conversation with a person where contradictions are to be expected and the word 'no' will never be used
Never getting used to people burping in public, at least when they piss in public they face away (most of the time)
Meeting up and traveling around with a great bunch of Israelis and in the process getting a completely different and amazing perspective of my father (bizarre).
Seeing city buses that stop for no one, literally! You just jump on and off while it slows down (a little).
Getting a great breakfast of eggs, chapatti and soda of under 50c
Learning to have enough guts to rock up in a new town and find a room without a reservation even it means leaving all your earthly possessions with some rickshaw driver you just met.
Observing the complete inability for Indians to keep in line/their obsession with pushing in
The funny head shake that looks like NO, but isn't. It confused me for the first month and still tricks me sometimes.
The way India can always out do the west. They don't have supermarkets here, they have the HyperMarkets. They can even make the simplest of foods exciting and fun, you don't get a roll at a bakery in Bangalore, you go to BreadWorld. Think of the possibilities.
Well I hope you have all enjoyed my rants, and tales from a fascinating country. One that seems to grow on you long after you leave, or is it that things are actually growing IN you long after you leave.
Please email me if you would like some more info on anything I've written about, I'd love to be of assistance.
Enjoy.
Rickshaw rides that make a rollercoaster or dodgem cars obsolete
The laidback attitude to everything, it is a feature of every aspect of Indian society, from the cabbies, waiters, and police. Call it shanti, call it apathy, call it plain laziness, but without it it just wouldn't be India
The ability to have a conversation with a person where contradictions are to be expected and the word 'no' will never be used
Never getting used to people burping in public, at least when they piss in public they face away (most of the time)
Meeting up and traveling around with a great bunch of Israelis and in the process getting a completely different and amazing perspective of my father (bizarre).
Seeing city buses that stop for no one, literally! You just jump on and off while it slows down (a little).
Getting a great breakfast of eggs, chapatti and soda of under 50c
Learning to have enough guts to rock up in a new town and find a room without a reservation even it means leaving all your earthly possessions with some rickshaw driver you just met.
Observing the complete inability for Indians to keep in line/their obsession with pushing in
The funny head shake that looks like NO, but isn't. It confused me for the first month and still tricks me sometimes.
The way India can always out do the west. They don't have supermarkets here, they have the HyperMarkets. They can even make the simplest of foods exciting and fun, you don't get a roll at a bakery in Bangalore, you go to BreadWorld. Think of the possibilities.
Well I hope you have all enjoyed my rants, and tales from a fascinating country. One that seems to grow on you long after you leave, or is it that things are actually growing IN you long after you leave.
Please email me if you would like some more info on anything I've written about, I'd love to be of assistance.
Saturday, February 11, 2006
Mumbai and the clock is ticking
Well as soon as I stepped of the train my task had only just begun. After trying a few more respectable lodgings which were all full at 9pm on a Friday evening I reluctantly went to a shall we say less respectable lodging, Maria. As they say in the classic "... and suddenly that name Will never be the same to me..." (West Side Story). Definitely the case for the tiny room, free from the distractions of windows and ventilation, allowing you to appreciate the mould and mildew and try to avoid turning the lights on. The bathroom wasn't so much a bathroom, rather a portion of the room that had been tiled and had a tap inserted into a wall. Toilets were strictly squat type and located down the hall.
But it didn't really matter, the manger brought me a hot bucket of water for my shower and I was soon fast asleep. The next morning I wasn't woken up by the bright Indian sun, rather screaming in the hallway was my sign to wake up and tackle this city in 1 day.
Heading to the docks first I had my first dry wretch of the day before hailing a cab and heading to the most famous of Mumbai's landmarks, India Gateway. It was here that I began to realize that the architectural legacy of this place was far greater than I could have expected. The city is filled with a fantastic collection of Victorian, Deco and Classical architecture many of the finer buildings are in remarkable condition and many more are currently under renovations. One such building is the High Court, an enormous edifice of blue stone and soaring pitched roofs. After sweet talking the police officers that guard the main entrance and promising them that I wouldn't take any photos I explored the four storeys of corridors, court rooms,. libraries and offices that make up this mammoth structure. The police officers had their revenge, inviting me to sit down with them on my exit. We chatted about the cricket, India, Australia, jobs, money and yes you guessed it, sex (again). What's with these guys. After about half an hour I said my frewells to the regiment , who by that stage also included their sergeant.
After getting my fill of architecture is was a quick ride to Mani Bhavan (also under renovation), the Mahatma Gandhi Museum. Although a little spartan in its displays it was still an enormously insightful and inspiring place. The story and legacy is Gandhi is explained simply and elegantly.
The rest of the afternoon was spent at the Haki Ali mosque, Mumbai's answer to St Kilda's pier restaurant. This mosque, similarly is located at the end of a long pier, however the strong smell of rotting fish and the horrible state of the building (together with the beggars that follow you up the concourse) spoil the atmosphere somewhat. I enjoyed a long walk along Chowpatty Beach, with its Art Deco flats and palm trees reminiscent of Miami and then headed back home to Colaba, the tourist centre, exhausted. Time to catch a train cross country. 31hrs to Varanasi.
But it didn't really matter, the manger brought me a hot bucket of water for my shower and I was soon fast asleep. The next morning I wasn't woken up by the bright Indian sun, rather screaming in the hallway was my sign to wake up and tackle this city in 1 day.
Heading to the docks first I had my first dry wretch of the day before hailing a cab and heading to the most famous of Mumbai's landmarks, India Gateway. It was here that I began to realize that the architectural legacy of this place was far greater than I could have expected. The city is filled with a fantastic collection of Victorian, Deco and Classical architecture many of the finer buildings are in remarkable condition and many more are currently under renovations. One such building is the High Court, an enormous edifice of blue stone and soaring pitched roofs. After sweet talking the police officers that guard the main entrance and promising them that I wouldn't take any photos I explored the four storeys of corridors, court rooms,. libraries and offices that make up this mammoth structure. The police officers had their revenge, inviting me to sit down with them on my exit. We chatted about the cricket, India, Australia, jobs, money and yes you guessed it, sex (again). What's with these guys. After about half an hour I said my frewells to the regiment , who by that stage also included their sergeant.
After getting my fill of architecture is was a quick ride to Mani Bhavan (also under renovation), the Mahatma Gandhi Museum. Although a little spartan in its displays it was still an enormously insightful and inspiring place. The story and legacy is Gandhi is explained simply and elegantly.
The rest of the afternoon was spent at the Haki Ali mosque, Mumbai's answer to St Kilda's pier restaurant. This mosque, similarly is located at the end of a long pier, however the strong smell of rotting fish and the horrible state of the building (together with the beggars that follow you up the concourse) spoil the atmosphere somewhat. I enjoyed a long walk along Chowpatty Beach, with its Art Deco flats and palm trees reminiscent of Miami and then headed back home to Colaba, the tourist centre, exhausted. Time to catch a train cross country. 31hrs to Varanasi.
Friday, February 10, 2006
You Mean I Finally Have to Take the Sleeper Bus?
Yes, it happened last night, as I folded myself into the upper "sleeper" (weird name, i don't know if anyone has actually ever slept in one) two thoughts crossed my mind, how will I get out and I hope that large spider on the window is dead.
After 5 more minutes I had an answer to at least 1 of the questions, NO!
For those unacquainted with the phenomenon of the sleeper bus its quite simple to explain:
1. Take a regular bus
2. Sell it and buy 3 really old and crappy ones
3. Rip all the chairs out
4. Put a platform midway through the main body and pad the floors with the cheapest nastiest foam you can find in the local dump
5. Remove any trace of suspension
6. Download photos of state-of-the-art Volvo buses from the web and use these for promotional material
7. Now you have a sleeper bus
Unlike many of the sleeper bus routes that crisscross Rajasthan the roads between Hospet (Hampi) and Goa are considerably better, even still the driver did hit the brakes hard several times through the night to avoid potholes and the swearing and abuse that would inevitably follow.
After a lazy 4hrs at Madgao Train Station I boarded my train to Mumbai, or is it Bombay, (nobody really seems to care) and now after 27hrs of travel I have arrived in this throbbing metropolis, its time for bed.
After 5 more minutes I had an answer to at least 1 of the questions, NO!
For those unacquainted with the phenomenon of the sleeper bus its quite simple to explain:
1. Take a regular bus
2. Sell it and buy 3 really old and crappy ones
3. Rip all the chairs out
4. Put a platform midway through the main body and pad the floors with the cheapest nastiest foam you can find in the local dump
5. Remove any trace of suspension
6. Download photos of state-of-the-art Volvo buses from the web and use these for promotional material
7. Now you have a sleeper bus
Unlike many of the sleeper bus routes that crisscross Rajasthan the roads between Hospet (Hampi) and Goa are considerably better, even still the driver did hit the brakes hard several times through the night to avoid potholes and the swearing and abuse that would inevitably follow.
After a lazy 4hrs at Madgao Train Station I boarded my train to Mumbai, or is it Bombay, (nobody really seems to care) and now after 27hrs of travel I have arrived in this throbbing metropolis, its time for bed.
I'd want to ride my bicycle Part III: You'd Think I Was Active or Something
For 4 days and 3 nights I've trekked and chilled out (mostly chilled out) among the boulders and banana trees that make up this remarkable landscape.
After my first lazy day of wandering around and getting my bearings of the small village and main bazaar it was time to do some more active travel.
Joining forces with a German backpacker Dorit, who I met on the train up from Bangalore we hired a couple of the usual crappy Indian bikes (gearless, brakeless and heavy) and headed up hill straight out of town in search of the ruins beyond.
Bike riding again, who would ever have conceived of such a thing (certainly not my PE teachers back at school). After a conquering the hills that flank the city we were soon cruising through rice, sugar cane and banana plantations. There neat rows interrupted by enormous smooth granite boulders, some as big as houses. After passing by a view Hindu temples and a Muslim cemetery which had 2 interesting mausoleums we headed towards the Royal Centre.
The Royal Centre has a brilliant concentration of ruins; watch towers, temples, fort walls...Our bikes proved to be a great mode of transport, despite the dirt roads, allowing for infinite photo stops and flexibility that a rickshaw or jeep could never provide. We finally arrived at the heart of the complex as large group of school children pulled up, suddenly the vast grounds were filled with young children all in their uniforms walking in long human chains around the ruins and sitting patiently under trees as their teachers explained their surroundings. The Elephant stables were by far the highlight, a long narrow building with 11 arches each one topped with a different dome. The building was originally used to house the state elephants.
After the ride back into Hampi (thankfully mostly down hill) we had a quick lunch before tackling the other major ruins site of Hampi. Marching along the river passing old gateways and numerous temples still being excavated to this day we reached the Vittala Temple and its famous stone chariot. From all the buildings I've seen in India these ruins reminded me most of those from Cambodia, with their the strict geometry and clear horizontal emphasis . The carvings and ornamentation was also similar.
The next two days were spent over the river (where 90% of the Israelis hang out) I was in search of falafel and hummus but Hampi was out of hummus. The humanity!
The other side of the river certainly does take chilling out to an entirely new level. The place were we had lunch didn't have chair, it didn't even have booths, instead it looked more like a blood bank, with mattresses laid out on either side of very low tables. For natural slouchers like myself it was the ultimate indulgence, but it was almost too easy to fall asleep mid-bite.
After my first lazy day of wandering around and getting my bearings of the small village and main bazaar it was time to do some more active travel.
Joining forces with a German backpacker Dorit, who I met on the train up from Bangalore we hired a couple of the usual crappy Indian bikes (gearless, brakeless and heavy) and headed up hill straight out of town in search of the ruins beyond.
Bike riding again, who would ever have conceived of such a thing (certainly not my PE teachers back at school). After a conquering the hills that flank the city we were soon cruising through rice, sugar cane and banana plantations. There neat rows interrupted by enormous smooth granite boulders, some as big as houses. After passing by a view Hindu temples and a Muslim cemetery which had 2 interesting mausoleums we headed towards the Royal Centre.
The Royal Centre has a brilliant concentration of ruins; watch towers, temples, fort walls...Our bikes proved to be a great mode of transport, despite the dirt roads, allowing for infinite photo stops and flexibility that a rickshaw or jeep could never provide. We finally arrived at the heart of the complex as large group of school children pulled up, suddenly the vast grounds were filled with young children all in their uniforms walking in long human chains around the ruins and sitting patiently under trees as their teachers explained their surroundings. The Elephant stables were by far the highlight, a long narrow building with 11 arches each one topped with a different dome. The building was originally used to house the state elephants.
After the ride back into Hampi (thankfully mostly down hill) we had a quick lunch before tackling the other major ruins site of Hampi. Marching along the river passing old gateways and numerous temples still being excavated to this day we reached the Vittala Temple and its famous stone chariot. From all the buildings I've seen in India these ruins reminded me most of those from Cambodia, with their the strict geometry and clear horizontal emphasis . The carvings and ornamentation was also similar.
The next two days were spent over the river (where 90% of the Israelis hang out) I was in search of falafel and hummus but Hampi was out of hummus. The humanity!
The other side of the river certainly does take chilling out to an entirely new level. The place were we had lunch didn't have chair, it didn't even have booths, instead it looked more like a blood bank, with mattresses laid out on either side of very low tables. For natural slouchers like myself it was the ultimate indulgence, but it was almost too easy to fall asleep mid-bite.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
The Oldest Synagogue in the Commonwealth
Well I almost forgot to mention:
When I was back in Fort Cochin Assaf and I decided to go to shule on Friday night. I got all dressed up (put on pants instead of shorts) and fished my kippa out of my backpack and we caught a rickshaw back to the heart of Jewtown. But this time there would actually be some Jews here!
We walked down the narrow alley that leads up to the synagogue and immediately there was a special feeling. The synagogue I had visited a week or so before didn't feel like a shule, it was more like a strange museum piece. But now on Friday night with the candelabras all lit and the sun setting the room look more like a shule then any I had ever been to. The transformation was unbelievable. After half an hour about 40 people had turned up, Israeli backpackers, English couples in their 60s, even a young married couple from Melbourne.
The service started, lead by the too locals, it was a mumbled and jumpy service, page numbers jumped back and forth and many (all) of the popular prayers were cut out in an effort to minimize the length of the service. It didn't matter though. Just being there, reciting the Amidah in the middle of India in a 400 year old shule was something special.
After the service the chazan opened the carved red and gold doors of the elaborate Arc and revealed the 4 Sphardic Sefer Torahs. He opened one of the Torahs and allowed us to approach to see the parchment one at a time.
When I was back in Fort Cochin Assaf and I decided to go to shule on Friday night. I got all dressed up (put on pants instead of shorts) and fished my kippa out of my backpack and we caught a rickshaw back to the heart of Jewtown. But this time there would actually be some Jews here!
We walked down the narrow alley that leads up to the synagogue and immediately there was a special feeling. The synagogue I had visited a week or so before didn't feel like a shule, it was more like a strange museum piece. But now on Friday night with the candelabras all lit and the sun setting the room look more like a shule then any I had ever been to. The transformation was unbelievable. After half an hour about 40 people had turned up, Israeli backpackers, English couples in their 60s, even a young married couple from Melbourne.
The service started, lead by the too locals, it was a mumbled and jumpy service, page numbers jumped back and forth and many (all) of the popular prayers were cut out in an effort to minimize the length of the service. It didn't matter though. Just being there, reciting the Amidah in the middle of India in a 400 year old shule was something special.
After the service the chazan opened the carved red and gold doors of the elaborate Arc and revealed the 4 Sphardic Sefer Torahs. He opened one of the Torahs and allowed us to approach to see the parchment one at a time.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Yabba Dabba Doo!
Hampi is a magical place unlike any other I have even seen or know of. The landscape is a bizarre rocky world of smooth round boulders and scattered remains of ancient Hindu temples.
From a distance the rocks look like they are straight from Bedrock, or from a Roadrunner cartoon, stacked up in unbelievable formations that look as though they must have been placed by man. Many boulders really seem to defy gravity as they hang in the air.
Mixed into this wonderful alien landscape are wonderful remains of temples and stoas and other buildings. The austere trabeated structures with chunky columns and beams and oversized capitals look early Greek. There random picturesque compositions adding to there 'acropolis' like appearance.
Whatever you make of the landscape it is amazing and it seems that every turn of the head demands another photo. Even the town centre is different to what I have seen before. A wide straight road that runs from one series of temples to anther 2km away. Sone columns form shopfronts that flank each side of the road. Towards one end they are in use as the bustling heart of Hampi, with money changers, resturants and icecreams stores, but towards the other they are abandoned allowing you to appreciate the strick rhythm and order of the architecture.
to be continued...
From a distance the rocks look like they are straight from Bedrock, or from a Roadrunner cartoon, stacked up in unbelievable formations that look as though they must have been placed by man. Many boulders really seem to defy gravity as they hang in the air.
Mixed into this wonderful alien landscape are wonderful remains of temples and stoas and other buildings. The austere trabeated structures with chunky columns and beams and oversized capitals look early Greek. There random picturesque compositions adding to there 'acropolis' like appearance.
Whatever you make of the landscape it is amazing and it seems that every turn of the head demands another photo. Even the town centre is different to what I have seen before. A wide straight road that runs from one series of temples to anther 2km away. Sone columns form shopfronts that flank each side of the road. Towards one end they are in use as the bustling heart of Hampi, with money changers, resturants and icecreams stores, but towards the other they are abandoned allowing you to appreciate the strick rhythm and order of the architecture.
to be continued...
48hrs with no shower? No thanks!
After spending my bonus days in Cochin with Adi and Assaf (the lost Israelis) it was time to head out of Kerala and board the sleeper train to Bangalore, the high tech modern city of India.
Arriving at 4:30 on Sunday morning the city was still fast asleep. My idea of just bumming around the city for 18hrs until my connecting train to Hampi fell through as I began walking the seedier parts of the city (the only parts awake). I decided to check myself into a quiet little hotel and finally found one that was open and had a vacancy. Soon I was catching up on some sleep, some news and enjoying a mch needed hot shower, (but I had to wait until 6:30 when they turn the boiler on).
By 9:30 it was time to hit the town again. Now the streets that were all boarded up had blossomed into markets and stalls selling everything the average Bangalorian would ever need and surely much more. But I headed away for the markets and straight for MG Road and the shopping, I was here on a mission, a mission to shop. Luckily for me the sales were on and 40-50% discounts slashed the already great prices. Very soon I had bought more clothes than I could hold and as I began to consider where these purchases would actually fit in my backpack I headed to one of Bangalores more trendy outdoor coffee houses to spend time with the beautiful people.
After another shower and a short siesta it was time to check out and head back to the train station. In the morning when I left the station concourse was covered in a thick layer of bodies lying across the stone floor, some had old blankets, others only a few sheets of newspaper. As the lone security guard prodded the reluctant masses with a stick it was clear that his job was not going to be easy. When I returned that evening the picture was pretty much the same. Bodies everywhere, throbbing crowds and the most pushy touchy smelly people i have yet to come across.
As I passed through the concourse and onto my platform some engineering students started talking with me, soon the group of 3 turned to 5, then 12, 15, 18 and before I knew it 22 men where swarming around me asking me who my favorite Indian cricketer was, I dont even have a favorite Australian cricketer, but before I had to give an answer the crowd began asking the questions all young horny Indian males ask, sex quetions. The already uncomfortable situation took an expected turn for the worst and I looked to for chance to get out of there.
Soon I was back on board the now familiar surrounds of the sleeper cabin. The next morning I would be in Hampi.
Arriving at 4:30 on Sunday morning the city was still fast asleep. My idea of just bumming around the city for 18hrs until my connecting train to Hampi fell through as I began walking the seedier parts of the city (the only parts awake). I decided to check myself into a quiet little hotel and finally found one that was open and had a vacancy. Soon I was catching up on some sleep, some news and enjoying a mch needed hot shower, (but I had to wait until 6:30 when they turn the boiler on).
By 9:30 it was time to hit the town again. Now the streets that were all boarded up had blossomed into markets and stalls selling everything the average Bangalorian would ever need and surely much more. But I headed away for the markets and straight for MG Road and the shopping, I was here on a mission, a mission to shop. Luckily for me the sales were on and 40-50% discounts slashed the already great prices. Very soon I had bought more clothes than I could hold and as I began to consider where these purchases would actually fit in my backpack I headed to one of Bangalores more trendy outdoor coffee houses to spend time with the beautiful people.
After another shower and a short siesta it was time to check out and head back to the train station. In the morning when I left the station concourse was covered in a thick layer of bodies lying across the stone floor, some had old blankets, others only a few sheets of newspaper. As the lone security guard prodded the reluctant masses with a stick it was clear that his job was not going to be easy. When I returned that evening the picture was pretty much the same. Bodies everywhere, throbbing crowds and the most pushy touchy smelly people i have yet to come across.
As I passed through the concourse and onto my platform some engineering students started talking with me, soon the group of 3 turned to 5, then 12, 15, 18 and before I knew it 22 men where swarming around me asking me who my favorite Indian cricketer was, I dont even have a favorite Australian cricketer, but before I had to give an answer the crowd began asking the questions all young horny Indian males ask, sex quetions. The already uncomfortable situation took an expected turn for the worst and I looked to for chance to get out of there.
Soon I was back on board the now familiar surrounds of the sleeper cabin. The next morning I would be in Hampi.
Friday, February 03, 2006
Don't Fall Asleep
After two fun filled days at Periyar it was time to get back on the road and head north. First stop Cochin to by tickets to Hampi, but is was not so straight forward.
Getting from Kumily-Periyar to Cochin is an epic in itself, a mini epic, but one full of ups and downs.
...to be continued
As my first solo bus trip I was keen to get to the station nice and early, and as such I had pick of all the seats in the bus. Naturally I wanted to go up front to enjoy the view and reduce the bumps. Good theory, but total failure in reality
Points to consider:
- BO of bus driver
- Constant use of extremely loud horn that seems to to aimed in your ear
- The poster of the Virgin Mary sticky taped to the back of the drivers chair that stares at you the whole trip.
For the next bus ride I decided to go to the very back of the bus, already forgetting the rollercoaster ride that the munnar-kumily trip was. As usual for the first 5 minutes the bus is more or less empty, but slowly but surely the bus fills and is soon overflowing. As I fought to stay awake, the guy next to me lost his personal battle and rested his head on my shoulder, I wasnt to bothered, but when we went over a very large pothole his head slammed back down on my shoulder. I was sure he would have been woken up by such a thud, but hejust stayed sleeping. Amazing.
I finally got into Ernakulam/Cochin at 4 and bought my ticket to Bangalore before heading back to Fort Cochin in search of accommodation and the lost Israelis.
Getting from Kumily-Periyar to Cochin is an epic in itself, a mini epic, but one full of ups and downs.
...to be continued
As my first solo bus trip I was keen to get to the station nice and early, and as such I had pick of all the seats in the bus. Naturally I wanted to go up front to enjoy the view and reduce the bumps. Good theory, but total failure in reality
Points to consider:
- BO of bus driver
- Constant use of extremely loud horn that seems to to aimed in your ear
- The poster of the Virgin Mary sticky taped to the back of the drivers chair that stares at you the whole trip.
For the next bus ride I decided to go to the very back of the bus, already forgetting the rollercoaster ride that the munnar-kumily trip was. As usual for the first 5 minutes the bus is more or less empty, but slowly but surely the bus fills and is soon overflowing. As I fought to stay awake, the guy next to me lost his personal battle and rested his head on my shoulder, I wasnt to bothered, but when we went over a very large pothole his head slammed back down on my shoulder. I was sure he would have been woken up by such a thud, but hejust stayed sleeping. Amazing.
I finally got into Ernakulam/Cochin at 4 and bought my ticket to Bangalore before heading back to Fort Cochin in search of accommodation and the lost Israelis.
Periyar Uncovered - Part II
Once our leafs were licked clean is we headed down out of the scrub and into a area full of giant bamboo trees and streams. After cursing my way up the mountain I was now cursing all the way down. A few near slips had shaken me up and I was in no hurry to fall over in his part of the world. The path was little more than a trail of broken branches and trodden ground and gave very little in terms of grip.
At the bottom the landscape changed again, the fog had cleared and the bamboo was now a dense jungle. Overhead at the top of the canopy the guide pointed out a hornbill, a very large colourful bird with a great big beak and a bright yellow strip across its wings. He also pointed out a tiger foot print and a tree that had been clawed by a tiger as a means of claiming territory.
After hiking up and subsequently down another few hills I decided that this was probably the toughest hike I had ever done, not only physically strenuous with steep climbs and accents, but the constant lookout for giant spiders and bugs, sharp grass and other obstacles.
Although we did manage to spot some other animals, a monkey high up in an enormous tree, a wild squirrel who ran at the very sight of us and a few others the big game alluded us. By 12.30pm we were beat, but our guide wasn't finished. He continued on his route up another mountain to a clearing which had great views over the lake and then onto another cliff that overlooked the neighboring state of Tamil Nadu. Before too much longer in the hot and humid midday sun we stumbled out of the forest, across the cricket field, now bright and green in the heat of the day and headed home.
CONC.:This trek was technically illegal and not run through official park tourist personnel. Part of our charge included a bribe to a shady park officer. Besides from that the tour was run as professionally a can be expected, with breakfast, lunch, transport and 2 guides provided.
At the bottom the landscape changed again, the fog had cleared and the bamboo was now a dense jungle. Overhead at the top of the canopy the guide pointed out a hornbill, a very large colourful bird with a great big beak and a bright yellow strip across its wings. He also pointed out a tiger foot print and a tree that had been clawed by a tiger as a means of claiming territory.
After hiking up and subsequently down another few hills I decided that this was probably the toughest hike I had ever done, not only physically strenuous with steep climbs and accents, but the constant lookout for giant spiders and bugs, sharp grass and other obstacles.
Although we did manage to spot some other animals, a monkey high up in an enormous tree, a wild squirrel who ran at the very sight of us and a few others the big game alluded us. By 12.30pm we were beat, but our guide wasn't finished. He continued on his route up another mountain to a clearing which had great views over the lake and then onto another cliff that overlooked the neighboring state of Tamil Nadu. Before too much longer in the hot and humid midday sun we stumbled out of the forest, across the cricket field, now bright and green in the heat of the day and headed home.
CONC.:This trek was technically illegal and not run through official park tourist personnel. Part of our charge included a bribe to a shady park officer. Besides from that the tour was run as professionally a can be expected, with breakfast, lunch, transport and 2 guides provided.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Periyar Uncovered
Wwell after the successes of our budget wildlife hunt the kevutsa (Nadav, Udi, Ravid and his friend Erran and I) hit the town (all one resturant still open after 8pm). Coffee Inn, a potentially nice place except for the lazy morons that run the joint. We sat there for 20 minutes until we realised that we just weren't going to be served. Udi knew another place just down the road and soon we were huddled around a small table on the side of the road pouring over menus. I ordered a dalh fry, veg noodles and rice, i guess the bike ride had really made me hungry, that and the fact that is was close to 10pm.
After a little wait in the cool mountain air we eventually received our food one dish at a time. It was probably during this meal that I first heard Israelis talk politics, almost the goldern rule here is to leave those issues at the airport, but for 5 minutes I heard young Israelis talk about their country. Udi however had more important things to discuss.
That afternoon he was speaking with a guy at his dorm and was told about the illegal treks that go through the park. Immediately we were all interested, not only would this be a cheaper way to see the animals, it had a very appealing element of risk, not just the tigers were out there, we had to look out for the rangers too.
It was settled then and there, at 5:30 the next morning we would all meet near our hotel and be picked up and taken on the trek.
After a restless sleep we all converged to the small tour office cloaked in darkness. Before too long we were huddled into rickshaws and taken to the unoffical entrance to the park. No guarded gateway or signin office. We matched accross a cricket pitch and stumbled into the forest lead only by the weak glow of the 2 guides torches as they tried to illuminate the scrub path.
Walking single file in silence in the pitch black forest your mind plays tricks. With nothing so see images appear totally randomly, a phone booth, a brick veneer house, an umbrella. Soon the darkness was replaced by the first light which, although silent itself, must seem like a shot gun to the hundreds of birds who begin their morning calls in unison. At once the forest comes alive in song and squak in all 360 degrees.
As the light increase we began our asent to the top of the first mountain, totally engulfed in a thick fog the talls trees made way for grass and shrubs. There was some noise in the bushes nearby and everyone came to an abrupt halt, cameras at the ready. Through the fog two bison were grazing but quickly fled after noticing our presence. We continued our hike upward.
At the top there was a rocky outcrop were we sat surrounded by fog. By this stage we were all puffed and tired. It was only 45minutes in and I was already ready for bed. After a bannana we step off again, down another valley and across to another hill top where we settled for breakfast. Chapati served on freshly cut bananna leaf.
After a little wait in the cool mountain air we eventually received our food one dish at a time. It was probably during this meal that I first heard Israelis talk politics, almost the goldern rule here is to leave those issues at the airport, but for 5 minutes I heard young Israelis talk about their country. Udi however had more important things to discuss.
That afternoon he was speaking with a guy at his dorm and was told about the illegal treks that go through the park. Immediately we were all interested, not only would this be a cheaper way to see the animals, it had a very appealing element of risk, not just the tigers were out there, we had to look out for the rangers too.
It was settled then and there, at 5:30 the next morning we would all meet near our hotel and be picked up and taken on the trek.
After a restless sleep we all converged to the small tour office cloaked in darkness. Before too long we were huddled into rickshaws and taken to the unoffical entrance to the park. No guarded gateway or signin office. We matched accross a cricket pitch and stumbled into the forest lead only by the weak glow of the 2 guides torches as they tried to illuminate the scrub path.
Walking single file in silence in the pitch black forest your mind plays tricks. With nothing so see images appear totally randomly, a phone booth, a brick veneer house, an umbrella. Soon the darkness was replaced by the first light which, although silent itself, must seem like a shot gun to the hundreds of birds who begin their morning calls in unison. At once the forest comes alive in song and squak in all 360 degrees.
As the light increase we began our asent to the top of the first mountain, totally engulfed in a thick fog the talls trees made way for grass and shrubs. There was some noise in the bushes nearby and everyone came to an abrupt halt, cameras at the ready. Through the fog two bison were grazing but quickly fled after noticing our presence. We continued our hike upward.
At the top there was a rocky outcrop were we sat surrounded by fog. By this stage we were all puffed and tired. It was only 45minutes in and I was already ready for bed. After a bannana we step off again, down another valley and across to another hill top where we settled for breakfast. Chapati served on freshly cut bananna leaf.
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
I'd want to ride my bicycle Part II: Hey Hey We're the Monkeeys
After getting in to Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary it is a matter of sitting down, looking at the options and getting totally confused. The park can be tackled in several different ways, each one has its perks, but the better they are, the more expensive the price tag. You can take boats, big or small, rafts, jeeps, trek, basically there are options galore but no guarantees that you will spot an elephant, let alone a tiger (almost impossible). We (Ravid Udi and Myself) elected to do the budget option on the first day and see what happened.
Hiring bikes just like the one I had up in Udaipur we headed down the road and entered the park for 300Rs. There is a long winding road from the park entry gate to the boat jetty and main ticket office which is a nice ride (although a bit hilly for these gearless bikes). Once inside we arranged to ride the government boats for 2hrs at a time for 15Rs (compared to the 'private' boats that are 100Rs), and we figured since we had already paid admission and the rides were only 15Rs (50 cents AUD) we could do it twice.
On the first outing, 2pm, we spotted deer, some stags, birds, black monkeys and a couple of elephants. People go crazy as soon as elephants are spotted, so much so that the small boat almost capsizes as everyone onboard clambers to on side of the boat to get a better look. Although we were a little far from the action the boat proved to be a really good and economical way to see the park with as little effort and minimum time. On the next trip, 4pm more animals were out and about, our animal spotting skills had also improved drastically and we were treated to herds of deer and buffalo, monkeys swinging through the trees, but alas the elephants were scared away by a bigger boat.
With the melody of Born Free ringing in my head (sad and corny I know) the second boat ride can to a close and it was time to hop back on the bikes and head back into town. As all the tourist buses and taxis sped past we spotted a family of monkeys in the trees by the road. THe soundtrack in my mind quickly changed to Hey Hey We're the Monkeeys as we grabbed or cameras and started shooting, but before we got a chance to get too close a park rangers car pulled up and kept us moving (park closes at 6pm sharp). As we approached the gates Ravids tire got a puncture, never a dull moment in this place, he though that he would be able to keep riding on the flat but luckily there was a rickshore nearby and he got a lift to the bike shop.
Hiring bikes just like the one I had up in Udaipur we headed down the road and entered the park for 300Rs. There is a long winding road from the park entry gate to the boat jetty and main ticket office which is a nice ride (although a bit hilly for these gearless bikes). Once inside we arranged to ride the government boats for 2hrs at a time for 15Rs (compared to the 'private' boats that are 100Rs), and we figured since we had already paid admission and the rides were only 15Rs (50 cents AUD) we could do it twice.
On the first outing, 2pm, we spotted deer, some stags, birds, black monkeys and a couple of elephants. People go crazy as soon as elephants are spotted, so much so that the small boat almost capsizes as everyone onboard clambers to on side of the boat to get a better look. Although we were a little far from the action the boat proved to be a really good and economical way to see the park with as little effort and minimum time. On the next trip, 4pm more animals were out and about, our animal spotting skills had also improved drastically and we were treated to herds of deer and buffalo, monkeys swinging through the trees, but alas the elephants were scared away by a bigger boat.
With the melody of Born Free ringing in my head (sad and corny I know) the second boat ride can to a close and it was time to hop back on the bikes and head back into town. As all the tourist buses and taxis sped past we spotted a family of monkeys in the trees by the road. THe soundtrack in my mind quickly changed to Hey Hey We're the Monkeeys as we grabbed or cameras and started shooting, but before we got a chance to get too close a park rangers car pulled up and kept us moving (park closes at 6pm sharp). As we approached the gates Ravids tire got a puncture, never a dull moment in this place, he though that he would be able to keep riding on the flat but luckily there was a rickshore nearby and he got a lift to the bike shop.
Monday, January 30, 2006
Ech corim ze b'ivrit
For the last three days I've been as close to Israel as is possible from the middle of India. The cramped little room we all squeezed into the first night in Munnar was ditched as we moved up to a 'special' group room with 4 beds, 2 toilets, a shower and 47 channels.
The whole apartment block/hotel soon became full of Israeli. We all had breakfast together, fried eggs, toast, jam, coffee and plenty of salt. I feel so at home. Not only are they all hairy like me, but they love salt and salty stuff.
Israelis are such a social group of people, they share food, cigarettes and travel tips. It's like a big kibbutz, door are left open, music blares through the hallways (Israeli music of course) and smoke wafts everywhere.
In Munnar we all piled into a tuk-tuk and put-putted around the winding hills and plantations visitng waterfalls and just absorbing the amazing views and the smell of a thousand tea trees.
Today Ravid and I left Adi and Assaf and headed back on the white knuckle express (4.5 hours of hell) and got into Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary.
The whole apartment block/hotel soon became full of Israeli. We all had breakfast together, fried eggs, toast, jam, coffee and plenty of salt. I feel so at home. Not only are they all hairy like me, but they love salt and salty stuff.
Israelis are such a social group of people, they share food, cigarettes and travel tips. It's like a big kibbutz, door are left open, music blares through the hallways (Israeli music of course) and smoke wafts everywhere.
In Munnar we all piled into a tuk-tuk and put-putted around the winding hills and plantations visitng waterfalls and just absorbing the amazing views and the smell of a thousand tea trees.
Today Ravid and I left Adi and Assaf and headed back on the white knuckle express (4.5 hours of hell) and got into Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary.
Saturday, January 28, 2006
Ma'ze oto boos - Munnar
| Compared to the relaxing sojourn that was the trip along the backwaters my last journey was not quite as peaceful pleasant. The five hour bus ride from Cochin to Munnar was bumpy, hot, sweaty, stinking, cramped, and loud, it was however cheap, really cheap. The trip cost around $2.50 and had all the benefits of openable windows, padded seats, sweat soaked men in the aisles, and cripples begging at each and every bus stop. As we approached the hills the temperature which was soaring in Cochin finally lowered and we ( referring to me and the group of Israelis: Adi, Assaf, Rachel and Ravid) were finally able to begin to enjoy the new landscape (nof). The hills are covered in manicured tea trees which give the impression of a fine Persian rug from a distance, wavy lines in a hundred different shades of blue floating over the folds of the mountains like a sheet. When we finally arrived it was time to find accommodation, not usually so hard, but after two hours in a tuk-tuk and visits to most of the places in town it was clear that this place was FULL, we couldn't find a room for love or money and eventually we all crawled into a double were the manager provided us with some extra mattresses and pillows, quite a cozy arrangement. I'm trying to pick up a bit of extra Hebrew and everyone is very patient, but don't be expecting anything fancy when I get back, I went to Bialik Collage for goodness sake. |
Thursday, January 26, 2006
The Backwaters of Kerala
Wow, when your expectations of an organized tour are so low you can only be blown away by stunning natural scenery and a good fun time.
Last night I finally picked the tour organizer who would be given the responsibility of making my trip to Kerala, if not India worthwhile, now that is a lot of pressure and many reps where clearly not up to the challenge, but one stood up to the task and delivered. We left on time (only 10 minutes late) the transport was acceptable and sooner rather than later the group of 20 or so people from all corners of the world hoped onto 3 canoes and drifted down the pristine waters of the small canal network that crisscross the area known as The Backwaters. Palm trees, pineapples, king fisher birds, and ducks.
I've been on simpler canal rides before, in Bangkok and the Mekong Delta in Vietnam and was really expecting more of the same, polluted waters filled with trash, oil and waste, dying trees, a horrible smell in the air and beggars and hawkers. However nothing like that existed. The hole day was beggar free, no trinkets or tshirts were forced upon us and even the included lunch was great. What a relaxing day. I think I can still feel the gentle rock of the boat as I sit hear now, or maybe its just the toddy.
Tomorrow I'm hitting the road again, I've met up with a group of Israeli tourists and were going to tea country, Munnar.
Last night I finally picked the tour organizer who would be given the responsibility of making my trip to Kerala, if not India worthwhile, now that is a lot of pressure and many reps where clearly not up to the challenge, but one stood up to the task and delivered. We left on time (only 10 minutes late) the transport was acceptable and sooner rather than later the group of 20 or so people from all corners of the world hoped onto 3 canoes and drifted down the pristine waters of the small canal network that crisscross the area known as The Backwaters. Palm trees, pineapples, king fisher birds, and ducks.
I've been on simpler canal rides before, in Bangkok and the Mekong Delta in Vietnam and was really expecting more of the same, polluted waters filled with trash, oil and waste, dying trees, a horrible smell in the air and beggars and hawkers. However nothing like that existed. The hole day was beggar free, no trinkets or tshirts were forced upon us and even the included lunch was great. What a relaxing day. I think I can still feel the gentle rock of the boat as I sit hear now, or maybe its just the toddy.
Tomorrow I'm hitting the road again, I've met up with a group of Israeli tourists and were going to tea country, Munnar.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
You are what you read?
Well over the last week or so in Goa and now here in Kerala I have been finding quiet spots, coffee shops, ferry stations, basically anywhere to sit down and read. Yes, me read! But before we all get too excited I'm reading shloch, plain and simple. Dan Brown may be trashy, but you cant put it down, so much so that I think I'm beginning to be a little too influenced by his characters.
Take for instance the events of today. It's hot here in Cochin, and sticky too, the kind of temperature that makes your t-shirt stick to you like syrup and turns a freshly poured bitumen road into a steaming river. Well that said I needed to find a place to sit, read and hopefully have a dip in a pool, only problem was my dusthole surely didn't have one, I was lucky to have cold running water!
The bible that I now peruse regularly, 'Lonely Planet India", mentioned that there was a hotel nearby that allowed guests to pay to use the facilities. So it was off to the jetty where I boarded a ferry to a nearby island that has one of the luxury Taj Hotels. The ferry cost 2Rs, around 6cents and all was well in the world until the man behind the counter of the hotel regretfully informed me the since the hotel was full non-guests could not go to the pool. Dejected but undettered I escape his view and made my own way to the pool, but this time I had a plan, straight out of a Dan Brown Novel.
I had a suspicion that perhaps it wasn't my shabby appearance and one-week beard that lead to my turn-down, maybe it was my ASCII accent. Keen to test this theory I sort out the hotel pool (which was empty) and approached the pool manager. Using a British accent that came out as a mix between Maxwell Sheffield and Richard Quest I tried my luck. Strike Two.
Well that was a waste of time so it was back to the old LP for more pool locations, but rather than give concierge the benefit of seeing me in the flesh, I was going to let my pompous UK accent "do all the talking"
I thought I was doing a pretty bang up job with the whole accent thing but it was the same story from the two hotels I called, "sorry we are full, no non-guests allowed". Maybe the guys at the Taj weren't fibbing after all.
I am also now the proud, or not so proud owner of the shittiest pair of Communist binoculars in existence. What are Communist binoculars, well I'll try to explain. What would or could have been normal binoculars are covered with red sical and hammers and images of eagles and plenty of CCCPs. I will hopefully include a photo when I get a chance.
(If anyone cares to hear my UK accent please feel free to ask for a demonstration on my return)
Take for instance the events of today. It's hot here in Cochin, and sticky too, the kind of temperature that makes your t-shirt stick to you like syrup and turns a freshly poured bitumen road into a steaming river. Well that said I needed to find a place to sit, read and hopefully have a dip in a pool, only problem was my dusthole surely didn't have one, I was lucky to have cold running water!
The bible that I now peruse regularly, 'Lonely Planet India", mentioned that there was a hotel nearby that allowed guests to pay to use the facilities. So it was off to the jetty where I boarded a ferry to a nearby island that has one of the luxury Taj Hotels. The ferry cost 2Rs, around 6cents and all was well in the world until the man behind the counter of the hotel regretfully informed me the since the hotel was full non-guests could not go to the pool. Dejected but undettered I escape his view and made my own way to the pool, but this time I had a plan, straight out of a Dan Brown Novel.
I had a suspicion that perhaps it wasn't my shabby appearance and one-week beard that lead to my turn-down, maybe it was my ASCII accent. Keen to test this theory I sort out the hotel pool (which was empty) and approached the pool manager. Using a British accent that came out as a mix between Maxwell Sheffield and Richard Quest I tried my luck. Strike Two.
Well that was a waste of time so it was back to the old LP for more pool locations, but rather than give concierge the benefit of seeing me in the flesh, I was going to let my pompous UK accent "do all the talking"
I thought I was doing a pretty bang up job with the whole accent thing but it was the same story from the two hotels I called, "sorry we are full, no non-guests allowed". Maybe the guys at the Taj weren't fibbing after all.
I am also now the proud, or not so proud owner of the shittiest pair of Communist binoculars in existence. What are Communist binoculars, well I'll try to explain. What would or could have been normal binoculars are covered with red sical and hammers and images of eagles and plenty of CCCPs. I will hopefully include a photo when I get a chance.
(If anyone cares to hear my UK accent please feel free to ask for a demonstration on my return)
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
"Kerala, India's No. 1 State"
If this really is the cleanest, most educated and pristine state in India, as its tourist brochures proudly declare, heaven help the rest of this place.
I arrive hear at midday today after 14hrs on a sleeper train that either tried to freeze me to death or melt me, but I survived. Visited Jewtown - Kochi today. Its the remains of a once prosperous Jewish trading community with roots going as far back as Roman times, well the destruction of the Second Temple anyway. Walking around you get the eerie sense that this is like one large cemetery/museum of extinct Jewish civilization, I guess the thickly accented German tourists helped create the ultimate "what if" tourist destination. You can almost hear them thinking to themselves, "We were so close...". Maybe I'm just sick in the head. The synagogue was an interesting place to visit, with its Belgian chandelier and handpainted Chinese tiles it wasn't your average shule. It was definitely different having a non-Jewish Indian man give a run down of the anatomy of the synagogue to a visiting group of Indian and Chinese tourists.
Well the temperature keeps rising so its off to another icecream stand for some refreshment.
I arrive hear at midday today after 14hrs on a sleeper train that either tried to freeze me to death or melt me, but I survived. Visited Jewtown - Kochi today. Its the remains of a once prosperous Jewish trading community with roots going as far back as Roman times, well the destruction of the Second Temple anyway. Walking around you get the eerie sense that this is like one large cemetery/museum of extinct Jewish civilization, I guess the thickly accented German tourists helped create the ultimate "what if" tourist destination. You can almost hear them thinking to themselves, "We were so close...". Maybe I'm just sick in the head. The synagogue was an interesting place to visit, with its Belgian chandelier and handpainted Chinese tiles it wasn't your average shule. It was definitely different having a non-Jewish Indian man give a run down of the anatomy of the synagogue to a visiting group of Indian and Chinese tourists.
Well the temperature keeps rising so its off to another icecream stand for some refreshment.
Sunday, January 22, 2006
You want an update, you get an update
Due to overwhelming requests from avid readers of the blog for updates as to what I've been doing here in Goa (namely a solitary SMS from mum). I have come back to the internet cafe, sandy thongs and all to debrief on my movements. Don't worry I'm not going to talk about Delhi Belly if that's what you're thinking.
Well Goa was a harder nut to crack than I anticipated, and although I'm not really exploring the state very much I have finally settled down into somewhat of a routine. Going to bars at night is expensive, guys are charged upwards of 400Rs entry (about $12AUD - girls in for free) so getting connections on the inside of the only happening place nearby was essential to my finances, striking up a deep friendship with one the more friendly waiters has now ensured me to get in for free, (it was either the friendship or the generous tip). I have also deciphered the best eateries and hang out locations, selected of course on two important criteria, make that one, architecture. Clean lines, clean floors and location. Early evenings are spend sitting over a Sprite overlooking the beach talking with the Nepalese waiters about their country.
Well there is still some sunshine left and my time is up.
Well Goa was a harder nut to crack than I anticipated, and although I'm not really exploring the state very much I have finally settled down into somewhat of a routine. Going to bars at night is expensive, guys are charged upwards of 400Rs entry (about $12AUD - girls in for free) so getting connections on the inside of the only happening place nearby was essential to my finances, striking up a deep friendship with one the more friendly waiters has now ensured me to get in for free, (it was either the friendship or the generous tip). I have also deciphered the best eateries and hang out locations, selected of course on two important criteria, make that one, architecture. Clean lines, clean floors and location. Early evenings are spend sitting over a Sprite overlooking the beach talking with the Nepalese waiters about their country.
Well there is still some sunshine left and my time is up.
English Whale dies, many more Britons feared at risked
Just after the bottle nosed whale that visited Londoners as it swam into the Thames and beached itself it seems that copy-cat beaching are now occurring in Goa. Today on my afternoon walk along the beach I had the mispleasure of witnessing hundreds of English whales that were stranded along the coastline. Many appeared to be burning and blistered in the hot sun. Scientists are still baffled as to why the mammals beach themselves, but as one vet on the scene declared, " hopefully it is not part of some strange mating ritual", one can only hope!"
In the interests of reader satisfaction photos will not be posted. (Nor were any taken)
In the interests of reader satisfaction photos will not be posted. (Nor were any taken)
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Getting to Goa
Well after my tour of Rajasthan wound up for me on Monday I booked a seat to Goa on one of the numerous budget airlines that are springing up in India. SpiceJet was the airline, a word of warning to all future passengers: Be prepared for at least 1 delay. I was considerably lucky, my flight was only delayed once by one and a half hours, and came in another 15minutes late. Looking up at the departures board most SpiceJet flights seemed to be delayed.
When I finally got out of the airport it was simple enough to avoid the hotel touts and find the Prepaid Taxi Booth, but once I was in the vehicle, the fun began. The cab stunk, and I'm not talking smelly like taxis in Melbourne, I actually think someone died in this car. But I was soon distracted from the smell as soon the driver began "creating". Creating lanes, creating speed limits and creating the ability to see around blind corners.
My first port of call in Panaji, the capital of Goa was a small boat cruise to get a look at the Portuguese inspired city. But this was no ordinary cruise. Run by a very enthusiastic MC guests onboard were asked to get up on stage and dance to Goan songs. When this MC asked the men to come up on stage I thought that he'd be up there by himself, but sure enough about 8 men got up (I was clearly not man enough to join them). Each man had his own style from the "trying to hard with over the top hand movements", "the muscle flex", "interpretive dance", "the running on the spot", "the side set" and everybody's favorite, "the back and forth".
Had a great traditional Goan dinner tonight at a plush place called "Mum's Kitchen", which I highly recommend. Tomorrow I head out to the beach.
When I finally got out of the airport it was simple enough to avoid the hotel touts and find the Prepaid Taxi Booth, but once I was in the vehicle, the fun began. The cab stunk, and I'm not talking smelly like taxis in Melbourne, I actually think someone died in this car. But I was soon distracted from the smell as soon the driver began "creating". Creating lanes, creating speed limits and creating the ability to see around blind corners.
My first port of call in Panaji, the capital of Goa was a small boat cruise to get a look at the Portuguese inspired city. But this was no ordinary cruise. Run by a very enthusiastic MC guests onboard were asked to get up on stage and dance to Goan songs. When this MC asked the men to come up on stage I thought that he'd be up there by himself, but sure enough about 8 men got up (I was clearly not man enough to join them). Each man had his own style from the "trying to hard with over the top hand movements", "the muscle flex", "interpretive dance", "the running on the spot", "the side set" and everybody's favorite, "the back and forth".
Had a great traditional Goan dinner tonight at a plush place called "Mum's Kitchen", which I highly recommend. Tomorrow I head out to the beach.
Monday, January 16, 2006
Rats, Camels, Nuts and Delhi Belly
Yes before I continue, Delhi Belly struck mid afternoon yesterday. And I am happy to report that I broke the personal target of two weeks I set for myself before departure.
The Rat Temple, Karni Mata, is a strange place to day the least. Dubbed as the "8th Wonder of the World" by the billboard located outside the temple visitors are initally given the good news that shoes are not permitted within the temple. Once inside people are calmer than I had expected, no squilling or screaming to be had, as the rats seem to mind their own business mostly and don't really get to close. But there are plenty of them surrounding bowls of milky liquid or running into their holes with coconut or bannana offering given by the worshipers.
After my happy snaps with the rats where over (to be posted when access available) it was back to the hotel to have some lunch before venturing back out into the sand dunes of the desert to see the last days activities at the Annual Bikner Camel Festival. But a simple task such as getting luch in a place like Bikner isn't always so easy. After a failed attempt to get some pizza at the perculiar establishment known as Saras i tried to get some service at a nearby hotel, Hotel Sagar. But unfortunately, nobody wanted to serve me, so I had to leave and find food elsewhere. In Bikner there really aren't that many dining options for those running out of time as I soon realised and after a 20minute tuk-tuk ride through the stinking sestpool of a town that it is I could only manage an icecream shop where i had some butterscotch icecream. Problem solved: Problem created, no sooner had I polished off the small cup of cream did I realise that I was allergic to something in it. For the next 20minutes driving back passing wedding processions and a string of beggers both young and old, I took my tablets and drunk water hoping that the reaction would pass.
It settled slightly and I thought myself fit to head 1 hour off into the desert. The fair is a big event for all the locals from surrounding villagers and it seemed that the tourists were almosts as big of an attraction as were the magnificently decorated camels. Events of the day included wrestling, a tradtional Hindi wedding for two seemingly dazed American tourists and the womens events.
The womens events really seemed to capture the imagination of the crowd, not least because women are so really seen. The events included the jug run and the jug smash. It seems that womens sports in the region are restricted to jug related events.
After we had had our fill of fun and games we headed back out of the sand filled air back to the strench that is Bikner. And just when you think that you couldnt possibly squeeze anything else into a day IT struck. yep the dreaded DB, but it wasnt so bad, in retrospect that is.
The Rat Temple, Karni Mata, is a strange place to day the least. Dubbed as the "8th Wonder of the World" by the billboard located outside the temple visitors are initally given the good news that shoes are not permitted within the temple. Once inside people are calmer than I had expected, no squilling or screaming to be had, as the rats seem to mind their own business mostly and don't really get to close. But there are plenty of them surrounding bowls of milky liquid or running into their holes with coconut or bannana offering given by the worshipers.
After my happy snaps with the rats where over (to be posted when access available) it was back to the hotel to have some lunch before venturing back out into the sand dunes of the desert to see the last days activities at the Annual Bikner Camel Festival. But a simple task such as getting luch in a place like Bikner isn't always so easy. After a failed attempt to get some pizza at the perculiar establishment known as Saras i tried to get some service at a nearby hotel, Hotel Sagar. But unfortunately, nobody wanted to serve me, so I had to leave and find food elsewhere. In Bikner there really aren't that many dining options for those running out of time as I soon realised and after a 20minute tuk-tuk ride through the stinking sestpool of a town that it is I could only manage an icecream shop where i had some butterscotch icecream. Problem solved: Problem created, no sooner had I polished off the small cup of cream did I realise that I was allergic to something in it. For the next 20minutes driving back passing wedding processions and a string of beggers both young and old, I took my tablets and drunk water hoping that the reaction would pass.
It settled slightly and I thought myself fit to head 1 hour off into the desert. The fair is a big event for all the locals from surrounding villagers and it seemed that the tourists were almosts as big of an attraction as were the magnificently decorated camels. Events of the day included wrestling, a tradtional Hindi wedding for two seemingly dazed American tourists and the womens events.
The womens events really seemed to capture the imagination of the crowd, not least because women are so really seen. The events included the jug run and the jug smash. It seems that womens sports in the region are restricted to jug related events.
After we had had our fill of fun and games we headed back out of the sand filled air back to the strench that is Bikner. And just when you think that you couldnt possibly squeeze anything else into a day IT struck. yep the dreaded DB, but it wasnt so bad, in retrospect that is.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
Those crazy internet cafe hoodlums
The last blog leadss straight into this blog, for its was while writing the last that my last adventure took place. As you may recall I was in the desert city of Jaisalmer, fresh from my Camel Safari, nursing my bruised behind. The chaps at the internet cafe near my hotel were a friendly bunch, curious about the mysterious ways of the wet, especially regarding all things sex. After I finally managed to get the conversation of sex, it fell onto their next passion, their business, actually, their soon to be new business a Camel Safari Agency to be located in the old fort. We chattered on nto the night as I attempted to complete my blog, until finally at half past eleven it was time to go, the only problem was that my fort of a hotel had bolted shut its solid gateway and my feeble calls and knocks went unanswered. But my new friends would not leave me stranded and spent the next fifteen minutes screaming out in Hindi for someone to come to the gate, banging on the door and dialing the number of the hotel until the watchmen finally answered the call.
I guess the hours of talk paid off becasue I dont know what would have happened if they wouldnt have been there to scream and carry on.
This morning we left Jaisalmer and took jeeps to Bikaner, 350km away. We headed straight to the fort (yes another one) were we where escorted by a very well rehersed guide. Speaking in Hindi and English as he raced us around the well worn circuit he dished out his spiel in record time. Only problem was he really couldn't speak english, any question or clarification would result in him either answering something totally unrelated or ignor you.
Tomorrow morning we head for the Rat Temple, leave your shoes at the door.
I guess the hours of talk paid off becasue I dont know what would have happened if they wouldnt have been there to scream and carry on.
This morning we left Jaisalmer and took jeeps to Bikaner, 350km away. We headed straight to the fort (yes another one) were we where escorted by a very well rehersed guide. Speaking in Hindi and English as he raced us around the well worn circuit he dished out his spiel in record time. Only problem was he really couldn't speak english, any question or clarification would result in him either answering something totally unrelated or ignor you.
Tomorrow morning we head for the Rat Temple, leave your shoes at the door.
Friday, January 13, 2006
Jaisalmer and the Camel Safari
Well I have returned to this desert town this afternoon after an epic 28 or so hours roughing it in the most sparsely populated part of India, about 45Km from the Indo-Pak boarder. ButI'm getting ahead of myself. First I must tell of this wonderful, yet mysterious town of Jaislmer.
Jaislmer is probably the closest thing in the world to Jerusalem, and not only do the two ancient walled cities built on hills having very similar names, they are also built in very similar golden coloured sandstones (both cities also enforced that all new development must use the original stone). Maybe there's a new Da Vinci Code in the making.
Here is a photo inside the fort (basically in the city square). As you can see the golden stone, and of course the rickshores. It wouldn't be India without them. It was great wondering around the old fort, the only one remaining in Rajasthan that is still occupies by people, restaurants and hotels. It really does allow you to get a more dynamic feel for what life might have been like during the time of the Maharaja.
After touring around the fort and its two Jain Temples it was off to the two beautifully restored Havelis (private mansions) outside the forts walls. The craftsmanship is amazing, with every surface treated in one way or another. No two screens have the same pattern.
After a roof top dinner overlooking the fort we headed off to bed awaiting the camel safari. Leaving early in the morning via the Royal Cenotaphs and another ancient Jain temple we son arrived at the drop off point and met our camels and their masters. My camel was a large beige beast by the name of Babalu, although I really
don't think he responded to the name at all. His master was Gaji, a fifteen year old boy with more hair on his chest than me, believe it or not. The first five minutes introduced me to a lot of spitting and burping, and that was just Gaji. The next few hours were spent covering the three key speeds of a camel:
Comfortable (also known as stationary)
Scrambled Eggs
The Nutcracker
So camel riding really wasn't my thing, but there was plenty more to come. I tried many things to make the ride easier, lowering my pants to provide more room, sitting on my jacket and jumper, these helped - slightly. That afternoon we went for another ride into the sand dunes, that's where I took this photo.
For those keeping score at home the beard is still growing, now 11 days strong, I also haven't taken the fakakte green bandana off.
After the camel safari came to an end we headed back to Jaisalmer where I proceeded to get lost, and lost again and lost again. My lack of direction still leaving a lot to be desired. But around every corner were interesting people all wanting to tell me their life story, from the teacher at the coffee stand, the internet provider who cant get a girlfriend, or the kid that keep asking me for pens.
Tomorrow off to another fort, who would have guessed it.
Jaislmer is probably the closest thing in the world to Jerusalem, and not only do the two ancient walled cities built on hills having very similar names, they are also built in very similar golden coloured sandstones (both cities also enforced that all new development must use the original stone). Maybe there's a new Da Vinci Code in the making.
Here is a photo inside the fort (basically in the city square). As you can see the golden stone, and of course the rickshores. It wouldn't be India without them. It was great wondering around the old fort, the only one remaining in Rajasthan that is still occupies by people, restaurants and hotels. It really does allow you to get a more dynamic feel for what life might have been like during the time of the Maharaja.
After touring around the fort and its two Jain Temples it was off to the two beautifully restored Havelis (private mansions) outside the forts walls. The craftsmanship is amazing, with every surface treated in one way or another. No two screens have the same pattern.
After a roof top dinner overlooking the fort we headed off to bed awaiting the camel safari. Leaving early in the morning via the Royal Cenotaphs and another ancient Jain temple we son arrived at the drop off point and met our camels and their masters. My camel was a large beige beast by the name of Babalu, although I really
don't think he responded to the name at all. His master was Gaji, a fifteen year old boy with more hair on his chest than me, believe it or not. The first five minutes introduced me to a lot of spitting and burping, and that was just Gaji. The next few hours were spent covering the three key speeds of a camel:Comfortable (also known as stationary)
Scrambled Eggs
The Nutcracker
So camel riding really wasn't my thing, but there was plenty more to come. I tried many things to make the ride easier, lowering my pants to provide more room, sitting on my jacket and jumper, these helped - slightly. That afternoon we went for another ride into the sand dunes, that's where I took this photo.
For those keeping score at home the beard is still growing, now 11 days strong, I also haven't taken the fakakte green bandana off.After the camel safari came to an end we headed back to Jaisalmer where I proceeded to get lost, and lost again and lost again. My lack of direction still leaving a lot to be desired. But around every corner were interesting people all wanting to tell me their life story, from the teacher at the coffee stand, the internet provider who cant get a girlfriend, or the kid that keep asking me for pens.
Tomorrow off to another fort, who would have guessed it.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Photo Update
Survived another night on the sleeper train arriving in Jaisalmer at 5:30am.
As promised here is a small selection of the sights I have described in previous posts. Enjoy.
Sweepers at the Amber Fort, Jaipur, having a break in the warm morning sun.
Traditional Rajasthani dancers perform in an old havali in Udaipur
A row of auto-rickshores awaiting custom near the Mehrangarh Fort in Jodhpur, my driver keen to be in the shot
By request a photo that didn't make the original due to time constraints. Here you can see me modelling my stylish bandana come face scarf, a must in the polluted side streets, and my little beard, now 9 days strong.
By the way I'm standing outside the Royal Cenotaph on Jodhpur, in the background you can see the Mehrangarh Fort.
As promised here is a small selection of the sights I have described in previous posts. Enjoy.
Sweepers at the Amber Fort, Jaipur, having a break in the warm morning sun.
Traditional Rajasthani dancers perform in an old havali in Udaipur
A row of auto-rickshores awaiting custom near the Mehrangarh Fort in Jodhpur, my driver keen to be in the shot
By request a photo that didn't make the original due to time constraints. Here you can see me modelling my stylish bandana come face scarf, a must in the polluted side streets, and my little beard, now 9 days strong.
By the way I'm standing outside the Royal Cenotaph on Jodhpur, in the background you can see the Mehrangarh Fort.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Jodhpur, the fort and the city blue
Today, waking up sick I decided to take it easy and sleep in a little. By 10:30 however it was time to get out and spend my last day in Jodhpur at its greatest attraction, Meherangarh. The Meherangarh is the fort palace locateded on a hilltop with sheer walls 125m tall in some parts. The fort was the best one I've been to here in India. Admission includes a free audio tour and this proved to be a fantastic way to experience the fort and really get a better feel for the history and significance of the place.
From up on the top of the fort the view of Jodpur was stunning. Jodhpr is known as The Blue City as the colour blue originally significed the residence of Brahmin, a special group of Rajputs, but now everyone is free to paint their homes and shops blue. After my wonder around the fort and a session with the astrologer it was time to explore the blue maze.
A quick terrifying tuk-tuk ride downhill soon found me in the heart of the old blue city where as usual I followed the crowds and found my way into the real innards of the place. As in other cities I've visited the streets where filled with children all happy to see me and asking my name and for a photo. Boys played cricket and girls practiced their english. It seemed that every srface had been treated with a thick coat of aqua-marine paint and the streets seemed to glow in the warm afternoon sun. Getting lost was easy, getting back to a main road proved more of a challenge.
I will try to get photos up as soon as i can find an internet cafe with USB.
From up on the top of the fort the view of Jodpur was stunning. Jodhpr is known as The Blue City as the colour blue originally significed the residence of Brahmin, a special group of Rajputs, but now everyone is free to paint their homes and shops blue. After my wonder around the fort and a session with the astrologer it was time to explore the blue maze.
A quick terrifying tuk-tuk ride downhill soon found me in the heart of the old blue city where as usual I followed the crowds and found my way into the real innards of the place. As in other cities I've visited the streets where filled with children all happy to see me and asking my name and for a photo. Boys played cricket and girls practiced their english. It seemed that every srface had been treated with a thick coat of aqua-marine paint and the streets seemed to glow in the warm afternoon sun. Getting lost was easy, getting back to a main road proved more of a challenge.
I will try to get photos up as soon as i can find an internet cafe with USB.
Monday, January 09, 2006
The road to Jodhpur
Well the 4:00am wake up call, the ice cold shower and even colder bus ride through the dark Indian desert was mostly uneventful (accept for the discovery that peeing outside in the freezing cold produces a large amount of steam).
After 6hrs and about as many pit-stops a random fruit stalls and villages we arrived in Jodhpur. Once know as the kingdom or Marwar, translation the Land of Death. The bus was cramped and filthy, but I was exhausted and managed a couple of moments of shut-eye.
The hotel, and I use the term loosely is located a little out of town, so auto-rickshores are the go. First stop was Umaid Bhawan Palace. The palace has to be one of the most unique in the world because I don't know of any other Art Deco/Mogul style palaces in existence. Although only a few rooms are open to the public I managed to sweet talk some of the numerous security guards and take a couple of exterior photos from barred locations. However the visit was not without incident, as I strolled the balcony I noticed that the security guards were getting a little edgier than normal and within a couple of seconds the main entry gate (closed off to the public) swung open and a convoy of 20 or so cars, jeeps and vans with and without sirens flooded into the drive. Solders bearing machine guns jumped out of moving vehicles and ran toward the main car from which emerged the VIP. Unfortunately the likes of Aishwarya Rai, Amisha Patel, Amrita Rao (Bollywood bombshells) did not blow kisses to the assembled media, rather a balding minister and his wife we swiftly collected and ushered inside.
Today we embarked on what was dubbed as a 'Jeep Safari', hitting the dirt roads past shepherds and scrub until we arrived at the home of some Bishnoi (followers of the 29 principles), a group of people who worship nature.
Witnessing a ritual act of opium usage by the head of the household I can definitely see the appeal. The sect has been given special consent from the Indian government to use opium for religious purposes.
This afternoon I decided it was time for some more backroad discovering. Heading straight for the clock tower in the center of the market area I felt like I was in a scene straight out of Indiana Jones. The market was a chaotic mix of colour and sound with the dramatic backdrop of the hilltop fort. From there I followed instinct and soon found myself lost, deep in a maze of tiny passages and alleys.
Every street was filled with children who were all shouting out ha-lo as I walked though, some running out from doorways to wave, others asking my name and were I was from, the conversation invariably leading to cricket, and man of the moment here in India, Ricky Ponting.
After 6hrs and about as many pit-stops a random fruit stalls and villages we arrived in Jodhpur. Once know as the kingdom or Marwar, translation the Land of Death. The bus was cramped and filthy, but I was exhausted and managed a couple of moments of shut-eye.
The hotel, and I use the term loosely is located a little out of town, so auto-rickshores are the go. First stop was Umaid Bhawan Palace. The palace has to be one of the most unique in the world because I don't know of any other Art Deco/Mogul style palaces in existence. Although only a few rooms are open to the public I managed to sweet talk some of the numerous security guards and take a couple of exterior photos from barred locations. However the visit was not without incident, as I strolled the balcony I noticed that the security guards were getting a little edgier than normal and within a couple of seconds the main entry gate (closed off to the public) swung open and a convoy of 20 or so cars, jeeps and vans with and without sirens flooded into the drive. Solders bearing machine guns jumped out of moving vehicles and ran toward the main car from which emerged the VIP. Unfortunately the likes of Aishwarya Rai, Amisha Patel, Amrita Rao (Bollywood bombshells) did not blow kisses to the assembled media, rather a balding minister and his wife we swiftly collected and ushered inside.
Today we embarked on what was dubbed as a 'Jeep Safari', hitting the dirt roads past shepherds and scrub until we arrived at the home of some Bishnoi (followers of the 29 principles), a group of people who worship nature.
Witnessing a ritual act of opium usage by the head of the household I can definitely see the appeal. The sect has been given special consent from the Indian government to use opium for religious purposes.
This afternoon I decided it was time for some more backroad discovering. Heading straight for the clock tower in the center of the market area I felt like I was in a scene straight out of Indiana Jones. The market was a chaotic mix of colour and sound with the dramatic backdrop of the hilltop fort. From there I followed instinct and soon found myself lost, deep in a maze of tiny passages and alleys.
Every street was filled with children who were all shouting out ha-lo as I walked though, some running out from doorways to wave, others asking my name and were I was from, the conversation invariably leading to cricket, and man of the moment here in India, Ricky Ponting.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
I want to ride my bicycle
Udaipur certainly has its charm, a city built around lakes rich I what the colonialists surely described as "sha-ge-wa-re". After exploring the winding, twisting, up and down paths off the main roads the it was finally time to see the main tourist sights that this "Venice of India" had to offer.
The city palace sits proudly on a hill, an enormous edifice build over successive generations since the 15th century (don't quote me for a history essay please). On facade is 244m long (that's bloody long). The palace is rich in Rajasthani architectural details, from multi-coloured glasswork and finely covered mirrored rooms to romantic palazzo style courtyards with amazing views of the lakes.
In the afternoon, Simon, a New Zealander I've been traveling with in Rajasthan had the idea to take some old bikes and go for a ride around the lake. After some negotiation on a fair price to hire the two 1930s style steel bicycles, they were huge and heavy, I'm talking really heavy. The seats were fixed so that my knees would scrape against the handle bars, and there where no gears but we took on the open road and headed into the hills. (oh yeah, no helmets either, sorry mum)
For my first time on a bike in a fair while the going was very shaky but soon I got the hang f it and we began riding down old roads past farms and the odd military base until we could go no further. The landscape was really different to that in the city, rough dirt roads and a backdrop of fort topped mountains. On the way back we found a great spot to watch the sunset on the lake. I treated myself to some good mango icecream and we called it a day. I just hope my legs will forgive me in the morning.
Up at 4am tomorrow morning to catch the bus to Jodhpur.
The city palace sits proudly on a hill, an enormous edifice build over successive generations since the 15th century (don't quote me for a history essay please). On facade is 244m long (that's bloody long). The palace is rich in Rajasthani architectural details, from multi-coloured glasswork and finely covered mirrored rooms to romantic palazzo style courtyards with amazing views of the lakes.
In the afternoon, Simon, a New Zealander I've been traveling with in Rajasthan had the idea to take some old bikes and go for a ride around the lake. After some negotiation on a fair price to hire the two 1930s style steel bicycles, they were huge and heavy, I'm talking really heavy. The seats were fixed so that my knees would scrape against the handle bars, and there where no gears but we took on the open road and headed into the hills. (oh yeah, no helmets either, sorry mum)
For my first time on a bike in a fair while the going was very shaky but soon I got the hang f it and we began riding down old roads past farms and the odd military base until we could go no further. The landscape was really different to that in the city, rough dirt roads and a backdrop of fort topped mountains. On the way back we found a great spot to watch the sunset on the lake. I treated myself to some good mango icecream and we called it a day. I just hope my legs will forgive me in the morning.
Up at 4am tomorrow morning to catch the bus to Jodhpur.
Friday, January 06, 2006
Jaipur, Udaipur and plenty more purs to come
After an overnight train ride from Jaipur that tested even my cool nerves the group arrived in Udaipur.But before a continue a word about Indian children and behaviour on public transport at 11:00pm at night
When a 4 year old boy is still shouting and throwing a bouncy ball around a train compartment (sleeper carriage) at eleven at night when other passengers are already in there bunks trying to get some sleep, shouldn't the parents step in and say, "hey son, cant you see people are trying to sleep, try to be quiet", or throw the ball back?
But enough of my senseless rants and onto the purs. Jaipur (where I've just been) was to put it simply, more of the same, but pushier! The city and its many pearls are hard to truly enjoy for a few reasons:
1. You have to continuously look down on the ground to avoid stepping in either-
A. Cow shit
B. Done poop
C. Camel dung
D. Insert animal here droppings
E. General rubbish and holes and the ground
F. Oops I almost forgot elephant crap (that's the really nasty stuff)
2. The footpaths are not really strickly for pedestrian use, they are shared by the animals listed above and the bike, rickshores, pigeons, and of course the hawkers
But besides from these Obstacle good fun can be had simply walking around the old city streets. I try to find the areas where the tourists don't go.
Today I stopped into a book binder and we made up a couple to leather journals to my specifications. He is a 6th generation book binder and his family have been operating in the same tiny shop for 350years. The machinery looks about as old as that too, as does most of the stock, dusty old books and the like.
People in the quiet side streets are happy to have a chat and show you there goods. Since arriving in India I now have a full education in the fine arts of Carpets, Spices, Teas, miniature Painting, Marble Carving...
At the moment I've had enough of the big sites, there are all quite similar and filled with all the same tourist stuff. So for now i'm rubbing shoulders with the locals (and taking dining suggestions from the lonely planet). Which reminds me the food has definitely been one of the highlights which is a first for me. Trying lost of different things, basically everything is vegetarian so all need to do is look out for nuts which isn't too hard to do.
Next stop Jodhpur, I think.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Delhi, Agra and Rajasthan
Well it has definitely been a wild ride to get to this point. The last 5 or so days have been spent running around Delhi, taking the early morning train to Arga, home of the Taj Mahal.
While in Delhi the headline story of the Hindustan Times, one of the cities many English broadsheet dailies grabbed my attention.
Delhi, Verdict: Unsafe but fun
Crime- In 2005 there were 456 Murders and 455 Robberies, which means that if you where robbed you probably got killed so it didn't really matter.
safety of Women- In 2005 533 rapes were reported
But its not all bad news, the number of shopping centres and McDonald's was on the increase.
The people so far have been the real attraction. The nicknaks on offer really do not appeal so I've really been spending most of my free time talking to the shopkeepers, soldiers, rickshore drivers about all kinds of things. There are so many genuine Indians out there who are trying to make your travels easier, but it is hard to seek out there rare gems in the great desert that I now find myself. Tourism here is very low at the moment, so all these tourist based cities and towns I'm traveling in are feeling the pinch.
I will not bore you with the sights ive been visiting just yet, but i will try to upload some photos when i get the chance
While in Delhi the headline story of the Hindustan Times, one of the cities many English broadsheet dailies grabbed my attention.
Delhi, Verdict: Unsafe but fun
Crime- In 2005 there were 456 Murders and 455 Robberies, which means that if you where robbed you probably got killed so it didn't really matter.
safety of Women- In 2005 533 rapes were reported
But its not all bad news, the number of shopping centres and McDonald's was on the increase.
The people so far have been the real attraction. The nicknaks on offer really do not appeal so I've really been spending most of my free time talking to the shopkeepers, soldiers, rickshore drivers about all kinds of things. There are so many genuine Indians out there who are trying to make your travels easier, but it is hard to seek out there rare gems in the great desert that I now find myself. Tourism here is very low at the moment, so all these tourist based cities and towns I'm traveling in are feeling the pinch.
I will not bore you with the sights ive been visiting just yet, but i will try to upload some photos when i get the chance
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