India 2000

Kerala, India, 2000

6 November, 2000.
Madras

So, why India?

I wonder if I’ll be able to answer that question by the end of the trip? I doubt it, but at least there will be a lot more reasons than the few I have now. I love the sound of the Malabar coast…It’s exotic, and surely foreign to almost everyone. Then there’s Alan Reilly’s claim that the Taj Malabar was one of the loveliest hotels he had ever been in. Glenn Roger’s tales of Kodaikanal added to the intrigue, and finally there was a huge amount of elimination: not X because of Y, and besides everyone goes there! I wonder did my father ever use a similar rationale? He’d be out walking now, checking everything out up and down the road.

We’re at the Trident Hotel, Madras. It is exactly what it is meant to be, a 5-star chain that’s close to the airport and offers impeccable service. As Anne pointed out, there’s at least one employee for every guest. Breakfast was busy, with service, and everywhere there are polite greetings from spotlessly turned-out employees.

So, the adventure began in Mazomanie I suppose. It was an atypical Saturday morning: no cooked breakfast, no walk for the dog, just the two of us, the newspaper, toast and tea. I wanted to be at the airport early in case the flight would be cancelled. It wasn’t, and Tim hugged me to the last minute. In Chicago there was a tiny missed heart beat: my flight to Newark was cancelled, but they had already booked me on an earlier one and made the luggage adjustments. Full of trepidation, I checked my bag at Madison, fully expecting not to see it in Madras, but it arrived safely.

Newark is a very dull airport. I read half my magazine collection, ate granola bars, and waited for Anne. She bounced up around 4 pm and we both were overjoyed to see each other it was clear. An accomplice…and someone else to share their “treasures” of clothes, food, toiletries, etc. if necessary. There’s a lot to be said for a companion of the same sex and size.

Our Lufthansa flight left on time and full. We had seats opposite one another across an aisle – perfect arrangement as there’s nothing to see. All the same, I hadn’t realized that Newark was beside Manhattan, and the view coming in to land of the Chrysler building, docks and the Statue of Liberty (so small) was lovely. The movie and food offerings were lousy so we read and slept instead.

Frankfurt airport on a Sunday is just like any other day. While it’s easy to get around, there’s nothing to do or see, and few places to sit. Most people wear dark-colored clothes (Anne reminded me that Montreal is the same), and it’s less cosmopolitan than Heathrow as airports go. The line to check-in was endless. We learned Indian queueing habits early — they are orderly (sort of), but incredibly determined to get and keep their place. We did have a leisurely tea and toast breakfast in the restaurant, and watched others settling in to beer and meat before 9 am.

There’s a distinctive European misty dawn at these airports. The tails of airplanes are nearly silhouetted, but there’s just enough light to know what they really are. At the same time, the look is two-dimensional, not three. With each of these views I am reminded…. That may well be the refrain of this trip: I am reminded. In Frankfurt I remembered my time in Tubingen, going home after Christmas with Dad to see Mummy before returning happily to the US. That must have cost me quite a lot — one of the first times I used $$ to appease guilt and solve a problem, real or imaginary.

Each part of this trip reminds me vividly of Pakistan — for the contrasts, not the similarities, for they are few. The whole episode of what to bring took me back to my previous list and diary. I didn’t read it, but I will when I get back.

Monday night.
Taj Malabar Hotel, Cochin

It’s only 12 hours since I last wrote in this, yet we’ve seen a lot! I’m exhausted and ready for bed. But I should get some of the facts down at least. Impressions can wait.

Tuesday morning

Slept wonderfully for 10 hours. Much needed. On the flight from Chennai/Madras to Cochin yesterday, I sampled dessert, a pudding that looked pretty disgusting but hey, I was curious. Bad idea! My stomach grumbled for the rest of the day but at least didn’t so anything else. Anne had Alka Seltzer for that cure, and we seem to have not needed more drastic remedies. Phew!

We arrived at Chennai airport at midnight and after a slight delay the luggage arrived. I know we were both very relieved. I changed money ($250) and received such a wad of notes that it was stapled together firmly. As directed by the guide books, umpteen of them, we prepaid a taxi and were driven to the trident Hotel. There’s a 2-lane divided highway from the airport and our cab driver took a short cut…against traffic, to make the turn. Rules of the road are vague at the least. The hotel was close, welcoming, efficient, 5-star and perfect. There were loads of TV stations, classical music, DVD, Fax and an impressive list of services. Tea/coffee and a bowl of fruit. The AC was so efficient that we both slept in pile tops and I should have put the bottoms on too.

Anne went swimming in the morning while I read the newspaper — a great read actually. Breakfast buffet was lovely if a little unrecognizable in some areas. Still, they had croissants and fried potatoes and jam and very good coffee.

The airport (domestic terminal) was pretty efficient, even Jet Airways. Security was unbelievable, however. Nobody gets into the terminal unless they are traveling. The entrance is blocked by many uniformed male and female guards. There’s a luggage security pass before checking in, hard luggage tags are provided and later stamped, hard luggage is x-rayed twice, there’s a body search twice. Phew!

Flying over the bottom of India was interesting —it’s very populated and the land seems to be divided into small patch-work holdings, something like Ireland. There were lots of hamlets, roads, canals — very few open spaces, just foothills too steep to support a crop. Closer to here, the Nilgiri Hills, I suppose, there were areas of untouched green — quite lovely, with dammed areas of water.

Then came culture shock: a two-hour taxi ride in the classical Indian car that looks like a 50s Austin, diesel, no power and very noisy. Still, it was clean and the music wasn’t too awful. Town was seething, traffic overwhelming, everything overwhelming actually. Arriving at the hotel, I felt we had found a refuge. All the same, the Taj Malabar is under renovation and the pool is being torn out. Our room looks out over the harbor and is truly magnificent — the harbor, that is. It’s so busy. Ferries ply back and forth, some looking far too full for safety. There are small, narrow, 2-person fishing boats paddling by, row boats for hire (with a skilled oarsman, rather like a Venetian gondola) and huge tankers and freighters being negotiated in with tugs. Big rafts of weed float by with scavenging birds descending on them at regular intervals.

You can spend hours looking out the window at the comings and goings of the harbour.

We relaxed a while then joined the sunset boat tour around the harbor. The hotel has a boat moored beside it and each evening it takes people out for an hour, over to Mandacherry to see the Chinese fishing nets. These are huge and clever: a block-and-tackle pivot arrangement suspending a large, wide net. At high tide a group of men pull on the ropes and stones. We are going over to take a closer look tomorrow.

We met a couple of fellows from Canada who suggested a backwater boat trip, and also initiated the “hedonism of Mary” whereby I’ve learned to let the hotel organize things, including drivers, onward accommodation, etc. It’s hilarious and I could get used to it easily.

The dreadful dessert on the plane left me feeling bilious, so I went tentatively to dinner at the fish boat restaurant — an old Keralan wooden boat converted into a very nice waterside restaurant complete with mosquitoes. But the local fish, spiced and wrapped in banana leaves was superb. Meanwhile, the hotel Kathakali performance was going on, so we missed it. We’ll make up for it tonight.

I was asleep by 9:30 despite incredibly noisy children and adults across the hallway from us. Ear plugs were a great idea — and I thought I was bringing them for Anne’s snoring.

So to today. It’s hard to keep up. Slept wonderfully. The AC is very effective so at various times during the night I was hot or cold, but I just went back to sleep. Woke with a happy tummy, ready for anything. Breakfast was an excellent buffet with lots of interesting unknowns that proved to be extremely tasty and not too spicy. We spent about half an hour with the tourist fellow planning our itinerary and them took the regular ferry to town. These are amazingly efficient and cheap. It took 7 minutes whereas to drive takes ages! It was reasonably full — we had to stand while lovely-looking Keralans looked at us shyly. My burning question of the day was: who wears a salwar kameez and who wears a sari? I got it answered later: choice and convenience although clearly the former is a lot better if you are working. Speaking of working, the “coolies” at the swimming pool are both male and female. The women are dark and small and carry baskets of stones on their heads to and fro, amongst the men. The latter haul and dig, wearing a dhoti cleverly tucked up for maneuverability. Young business men dress in English style, but most men working as blue-collar types seem to wear dhotis. Lots also have uniforms — shades of the Raj, even in a communist state. Communism is not too much in evidence — no red flags, but posters for union meetings and the like can be seen around.

Town was overwhelming. WE escaped into a couple of shops and purchased happily. Shops have both men and women in them, almost working equally in some, men in authority positions in others. In one shop I listened as the owner negotiated a purchase of jewelry from two very Indian looking fellows who had an interpreter with them — all drinking tea in a tiny office lined with semi-precious stones, while I walked around behind them listening enthusiastically. Meanwhile anne had discovered Kashmiri shawls — we both ended up buying.

Anne has just reminded me of roadkill! As we went out for a stroll yesterday before dinner, I muttered something about no roadkill, meaning no wildlife to kill despite horrendous traffic (chaotic – never seen anything like it). With that, I looked to my left and saw a small, flattened dog and almost tripped over a dead crow. There are a few tethered goats and presumably scred cows in the streets. Saw a few loose dogs too, but the prevailing animal is crow, a real scavenger.

We were hot and exhausted by noon and decided that a beer in the downtown Taj would be good. Even better was the buffet lunch in a pleasant SC space and we could charge it to here — they just FAX over the bill. It sounds so civilized and makes you believe that the place is very sophisticated. But later when we were persuaded that we needed to get a car to go into town and pay for a room at our next destination, they couldn’t get it organized. Still, we chatted to a delightful young woman there who tried to sell us a Pyramid scheme. Amazing. Almost worth the journey, hot and noisy as it was. We returned and decided to watch a sunset out our window. A muezzin called out prayers somewhere nearby. It was a beautiful sunset.

Later there will be Kathikali dancing and dinner. Meanwhile, I need a nap.

Wednesday, early.

We both woke early this morning, around 4:30 am and looked out the window for a couple of hours! It was fabulous. At first it seemed just dark, with few lights and no traffic. The lighthouse and buoys were the only indication of a world out there. suddenly, a raft of fishing boats headed out to sea, 20 or 30 of them, all at the same time. A little later the fishing kayaks began to emerge, concentrating on a reed bed just off the hotel dock. Watching the circular, elegant motion of the fishermen throwing their nets was amazing. They cast, pull in slowly, and generally get a few fish each time. Meanwhile the reed bed was home to whirling and circling crows, gulls and brownish tern (I think) and a red-wing backed, white necked soaring bird, as well as white egrets or herons. At 6 am the ferries began to move. A houseboat went by, and gradually barges, bigger boats and the like emerged. Dawn was quick — and now, before 7, it’s become warmer and hazy.

Thursday 9th. November, 2000

I’ve lost track of the date and day by now, so I might as well write it down while I have a newspaper handy.

We took a row boat over to Mandacherry, the peninsula opposite the hotel. Useless bargain-makers, we paid 100R ($2.25) for about 15 minutes of sweat on the part of our helmsman. He would have waited but we didn’t know how long we’d be, and declined. The next time we will retain his services for it’s hard to get a straight answer about the ferry when everyone is hustling, and fewer people seem to speak English over there.

Amazing place! I suppose neither of us expected what we found. First, we watched the Chinese fishing nets — quite beautiful in a bokety way. A very articulate fellow told us all about the details, but then hit on us for money, not satisfied with what I gave. There were others selling, in particular a lovely boy with 5 R flutes. He managed to “attach” one to Anne which made me angry. We walked away, around the perimeter of the Fort ‚ run down and dirty, with a few young fellows hanging around. Clearly Anne was uncomfortable and we walked very fast. We made our way inland to the Fort Cochin hotel area — surprisingly there were some lovely-looking, freshly-painted private houses there. Kids in uniforms were going to school. The Christian girls were all in uniform and the Muslim girls were led by their mother’s hand to another school, a little later, prettily dressed but no uniforms. We could hear rote-learning behind lots of walls. It reminded me of St. Philomena’s primary school at home without the nuns. Next, we came to a semi-trendy area with a bookstore (superb one run by an English fellow), and a cyber-café. Occasionally we’d see other “Europeans” — which drove home the fact that they are the traveler I used to be. It was a bitter-sweet realization…and indeed, if I were solo, I’d not be attaching myself to someone like that. Instead, I’d be the person that someone would attach themselves to. Strange feeling of loss, age, and of being too rich to travel like that anymore.

We continued to wander…and found ourselves walking through a residential Muslim area. Here there was a view of real life as it is lived, with a man washing himself, garbage burning beside the road and “sewers”, open drains, beside the road being dredged of sludge which presumably is collected. There was a garbage pick-up cart, but I’m not sure what happens to the stuff. Every corner was a photo opportunity: goats butting heads, cats (very few dogs), people going about their business. The Muslim women were mostly in saris and looked the same, but very few had head scarves. Nobody seemed very concerned with us — curious but not hostile. But Anne was uneasy. As we got more and more turned around, trying to find Jew Town, we eventually took a 3-wheeler to a palace that gave us our bearings.

There’s a big difference between walking a street and talking a 3-wheeler — the latter removes you from responsibility to “see” as opposed to “look”. It puts your firmly back onto the “them” group.

We next wandered through Jew town where outside each antique shop is a person inviting you to look, just look. It was annoying. We escaped to the Jewish synagogue — a weird lace where they anxiously invited you in (without shoes) and then pressed hard for a donation on the way out. We ran the sales pitch gauntlet again to find the ferry dock. We’d not been to this one before and it had not ticket counter. We found out that the next ferry was at 11:40 and they got royally hassled to take a rickety row boat. It’s amazing how quickly one changes one’s opinion of the state ferries. They are quite wonderful by comparison with some of the row boats! We got a 7-minute trip straight to Widdington Island for 15 R each and walked back to the hotel.

There’s a German cruise ship in port, the Bremen. It looked like a Zodiac from it was over by Jew Town as we took the ferry. The cruise ship was brightly lit last night when we went out on the hotel’s harbor cruise at sunset.

Later
Munnar

Checking out was remarkably efficient. The bill was accurate and included the driver for a week and the houseboat. We split it onto three credit cards — again no problem. The car and driver were waiting obediently: cotton covers on the seats, the driver in a white uniform, and the car a Hyundai with only 17K miles on it, with AC. The drive to Munnar took about 4 hours. At first it was noisy, hot, city and urban with the most crazy traffic imaginable, But gradually we began to climb the 5,000 or so feet here, up winding narrow roads, finally coming to a huge tea plantation owned by the company TATA. Munnar and our hotel are fascinating. We didn’t have reservations so we expected to check out a couple of Lonely Planet favorites. But the guide said he was looking for the KTDC hotel — and we demurred. About ¼ mile outside town there’s a new resort hotel — for Indians! It looked very fancy initially, and we were surprised at the cost, only 2000 R. It’s a huge room, (marble?) floors, twin beds, clean and shiny. But the Rough guide advises to look closely…and stay at the newest of mid-range hotels as they deteriorate rapidly. This is absolutely true. The ceiling is beginning to peel and there are other small signs of decline. It's called the Tea Country Hill Resort. It’s built for a mostly Indian clientele as opposed to US or European. For example, there’s no fridge, or complimentary fruit, but there’s tea and a kettle, and a TV with only the BBC World Service for an English Channel amongst many Indian ones. We have a balcony overlooking part of the end of town, but there are no chairs on the balcony. Still, there’s a comfortable couch in the room. Lighting is bad, but not intolerable. The bathroom is very clean (we’ll see about hot water), and there’s a bucket and jug for bidet-style ablutions.

Speaking of ablutions, I thought that everyone drank beer, but I think it’s not available up here. There was no liquor menu at lunch in the huge dining room. There were three families with lots of kids — reasonable ones. The menu was fascinating: from chicken masala to fish and chips with everything in-between.

Later still.

The driver is determined to shepherd us where he believes we should go. He has the usual head=bobbing that looks like “no”, but goes along with “yes”, and probably means a little of both. I’m not going to get my way — that’s the bottom line, I’m afraid. But at least he drove us up to the Top Hill Station as requested. The hour-long trip was very winding, on a pock-marked road, narrowly avoiding oncoming traffic and passing others. But it wound through endless tea plantations, crowning and covering the steep sides of eucalyptus-spotted hills. The tea plant is a low and scrubby bush, but as you look t a hillside, each bush is both distinct and melded into its neighbors. They are beautiful, and they go on and on and on. Occasionally women will be picking. They wear a rubber apron, are barefoot, and seem to be mostly Tamil. We are very close to the Tamil Nadu border here — and the top Station we were only 40 miles from Kodaikanal. Anne says you can arrange to hike there over a 3-day period. At the end of the day the women have their tea leaves weighed. Bagged in heaps, they are suspended from a tripod. The overseer had a computerized gizmo, like the sort you see checking stocks in a supermarket. I was surprised. High tech is not common here.

Friday morning

We were the only people at breakfast this morning: tea/coffee and toast, butter and jam. But the chef wanted to serve us appam and vegetable stew — a rice pancake that was very pleasant. We have a balcony that looks out over the very waking-up world. Dogs are beginning to bark, horns to blare, people to move, cocks to crow. The police are practicing maneuvers outside the barracks. Jeeps are going up and down the road to Top Station which is just below our window, filled with goods and laden with people hanging on to them.

Women do certain jobs here and it’s very specific and caste-related. For example, they pick tea and are laborers. They do gardening and street cleaning. They do house-keeping in this hotel but not at the one in cochin.

Speaking of tea, last night at dinner we got a great explanation of the whole process and business from an English couple staying here, Bob and Mareid (she’s a Scot): the cutting, planting, growing regime, as he had worked in the tea business in East Africa for 8 years. We had beers in their room beforehand. The hotel doesn’t have a bar but they will send out for beer.

The hotel is odd. It doesn’t look like I can call the US from here – they’ve not heard o AT&T! they cater to Indians from the north on holidays, or for wedding receptions. There’s loads of water but it is not even lukewarm. The compound is patrolled by security day and night.

Later.

We’ve just had an hilarious time as Anne bought two saris downtown in Munnar. The tiny shop was staffed by at least 6 guys and they fell over themselves trying to help, including two of them trying on a sari and modeling it. We took their photos and they gave us a complimentary address book with their address so we could send them copies of the photos. One fellow was so sweet — he went off to comb his hair and changed his shirt twice until he was satisfied with the outcome.

Well, Sany arrived at 9 and we headed off to who knows where. We drove for about half an hour up to a beautiful park that is a preserve for the Nilgiri tahr — a sort of goat that’s very gentle and a sitting duck to get munched by humans and other predators. The scenery there at Erivakulum National Park was totally spectacular. We hiked up to the border between Kerala and Tamil Nadu, and drove down the other side to a hamlet that was probably associated with Tata tea workers. On the way back we met some tea ladies who kindly offered us water. It was such a great hike and the two of us were very happy to be out in the open air for a while, with no noise for a change. We returned to meet the English couple arriving to the hotel for lunch, and instead of eating we had beers.

The people in Munnar are very friendly. Kids all say hello and women generally smile back when you do. The men are curious, nothing more, which is very refreshing by comparison with Pakistan.

Sunday morning

It’s not yet 7 AM and the world is just beginning to wake up. The journey continues to challenge. I have a cold or allergies that is causing congestion and a dribbling nose in the mornings and evenings. Needless to say, there is no DayQuil in Munnar!

Later
Thekkady

We began the day late as Sanu expected to get permission for us to go to a tea factory. Unfortunately, it was Saturday and closed. He was disappointed but I don’t think either of us cared too much. We suggested boating and that was disappointing. The evening before we had watched a camcorder video of elephants in Bob and Mareid’s room. They had come across them on their boat ride. So, we scoured the perimeter of the lake for about half an hour with no luck. It was fairly cheap so it didn’t matter much. Still, Anne is determined and I hope we succeed. We had a great evening with the English couple. Their driver took us to dinner in the Ambassador car they had hired, and Sanu collected us later. Once again, the restaurant was dry, but lemon soda (sweet) is now on our menu. This is freshly-squeezed lemon juice with soda water and sugar syrup to taste, and is remarkably refreshing.

There wasn’t much to do for the afternoon. The road to Kodaikanal is closed to traffic, and the road to Chinnar Wildlife Sanctuary is jeep only. So, we walked around the town, walked into the poorest part of town where the kids treated us as if we were film stars, and walked high up above town at dusk. We ate downtown and it wasn’t very good unfortunately. But there was a concert going on in a back room, women segregated from men.

Munnar reminded me of Gilgit (Pakistan)

I found an Indian dish on the breakfast menu that I liked: poori masala. It’s a vegetable and mild spice mix with potatoes, carrots, onions and tomatoes, served with soggy pappadums, but I think they are meant to be that way.

They made a mistake with the bill, a restaurant charge to us that we never made, and very very apologetic. Service is good at the desk. Way too many people. Doors are opened for you. The room is cleaned by a bevy of young women who are twice or thrice overseen by a man, or a man and a woman. The compound has guards in uniform patrolling regularly, and there are guards at the gatehouse.

Sanu sleeps in his car in the carpark along with the other drivers, and is spotlessly turned out every day. It’s amazing how he does it. We don’t need him half the time but he’s always there, alert for us.

Well, we had quite the experience with our massage! Ayuraveda is a medical practice common in Kerala. We dived in. So, it began with a booking. The young woman’s English wasn’t so good so we weren’t totally clear about it, but at least we knew I was booked for 1 and Anne for 2 PM. The paperwork she went through to take our deposit was awesome. I arrived on time and was escorted to a bare walled room with a fan heater, a huge convex wooden table, basins of oils heating, and a basin of water. It’s a little intimidating at first. I underused and she gave me what looked like a sanitary towel, only thinner. It was to cover my genitals, a string with a strip of cotton about 4 inches wide to wrap from front to back. Next, she poured some oil on my head and massaged it in. That was followed by sitting upright on the table and having my belly, legs and back massaged with oil, after which I lay down and had front, back and limbs and head done. It was hard to relax — this is not the height of comfort by any means. But it was certainly different and not unpleasant. It reminded me of having Vicks (a warmer dilute form) rubbed all over for it smelled of eucalyptus. When she was finished, she escorted me to a shower and gave me a wonderful abrasive paste to rub all over, followed by washing and rinsing. The hair took a while, but eventually I got all of the oil out. She led me to believe I should wait for the doctor, so I stayed in the room while she did the works on Anne — watching, meditating, I’m not sure what, but the doctor never came. So I gave up and we both left when Anne was finished. What a lark, and how different from other massages I have had.

Today we left early, 8 AM, and drove more or less south to Thekkady/Periyar/Kumily area. We began by winding upwards through plantations, wandering through little hamlets where women collected water and men stood around in groups or read a newspaper at a tea stall. It was Sunday and while many shops were open, others were not, suggesting that Christians at least take it off. The views across the ghats were outstanding — hazy hills stretching into the distance covered in lush green tea, giving way to a rock-climber’s paradise of Half Dome-like faces.

We passed by the Mahindra Resort, about 40 minutes out of Munnar, a very modern complex in an outstanding location. But I’m glad we stayed in Munnar — way more interesting. There were a few mountain lakes, fewer tea expanse, and a change to cardamom. From there villages seem ever poorer, but gradually we get to slightly larger towns and finally to Thekkady.

We arrived at Spice Village around noon and were greeted n a calm, peaceful, incense-filled reception area with a dollop of something on our foreheads. We checked in and were given a glass of mint lime soda to perk up. Then we were brought to a great thatched cottage, reminiscent of Mr. Peter’s place in Belize — totally lovely. The cottages are set in a garden filled with botanically named spice, fruit and medicinal plants. The place is fabulous, and eco-friendly in a big way. Everything seems to be recyclable, and everything is absolutely spotless. There’s a good shop where one is not hassled too. We declined lunch but had a coffee, and then met Sanu to be taken to a spice Garden. It was actually the 2-acre garden of an uncle of his that contained the most wonderful assembly of spice plants, all jumbled together. Abraham was our guide, with excellent English, so we asked many, many questions. He was very knowledgeable too, and I enjoyed listening to him. Needless to say, he brought us back to his family shop where we drank coffee (local Arabica) and bought spices. We walked back to the village, Anne swam, and we both then retired to the bar! They had beer and some mixed drink specials. We missed the cookery demo but the bar was such a novelty we had to go. Dinner, buffet-style, was superb. The food here is outstanding — amazingly varied, with each dish a complete surprise. This is the best food I have eaten in Kerala.

The evening was complete with a call to Tim and a message left for Mummy to say I was having a great time. We closed the bar — before 10 PM!

This morning we got up early and left before breakfast for a nature walk. We weren’t sure what to expect but we had been warned to buy leech socks — hilarious cotton things that went inside the shoes and cinched at the knee. Off we went to the entrance to the park in a scooter cab and there we were given a guide, a young “native” as the local indigenous tribes are called. They were moved out of the park in the early 80’s and now are employed around as they know trees, plants, medicinal uses, etc. He was excellent, although his English wasn’t as good as we are accustomed to. It’s not surprising; I suspect the tribal people don’t have as good access to education.

Our guide walked fast, very fast. He showed us trees 9teak, rose and many others, using their botanical names which was very impressive), plants, birds, and gradually squirrel, deer…and finally an elephant. This was truly a highlight although I didn’t realize it at the time. Elephant spotting is rare. The park is huge and there are ~1000 elephants (according to one guide) or ~90 (according to another). We walked through grassland, light jungle, past wet areas, all the while hearing monkeys whooping in the distance. He pointed out a giant squirrel, birds, and deer with pretty large racks. We met locals. The young guide chatted to them presumably asking is anyone had seen elephants. Actually, we saw a “village elephant” complete with bell, but ou guide was rather indifferent to it. Instead, we marched on, all the while listening for elephant sounds. At one time we saw a woman running from the jungle…an unusual sight as nobody runs here. But later, when we finally saw out elephant, our guide turned and ran, fast, back the way we came, and he certainly wasn’t waiting for us. We got wet, scratched, and had quite the adrenalin rush. Seemingly a solo elephant is dangerous. The guide said there were two but we saw only one. Later we saw a mouse deer and some other birds, but the elephant was quite the highlight of the walk. We’d missed breakfast and so were very happy with an enormous lunch of utterly outstanding food. Read the paper and some Indian magazines (hilarious at times, and at other so superior to ours that it’s almost embarrassing).

Later in the afternoon we went for a boat ride. Now all the guide books say the same thing about this — that it is chaotic. Well, it was even from Spice Village and their impeccable organization. We were ferried to the boat jetty where total confusion reigned. But all the same, we got on a boat and for two hours were ferried around the lake while everyone tried to spot game. Amazingly, as it was dusk, a lot of animals came down to water, so we saw gaur, wild dogs, deer, boar and a variety of birds. It was quite beautiful, with an eerie quality as the stumps of long dead trees still stuck out of the water. Despite the number of boats and people, it was a lovely trip. As with everything here, it is impossible to predict what will be fun and what not.

Before dinner there was a cooking demonstration — Kerala fish curry and some vegetable dish, prepared by an apprentice female chef. She was excellent and very charming. I really enjoyed talking to her about her job, the possibilities, etc.

We retired to the bar for the night, not needing to eat at all after that amazing lunch. Had a long chat with the bar man who was really a boy. He wants to go to the US, and is getting experience now — he was very sharp and will probably succeed. I showed him an artile on “H-class” visas, which might apply to him, although eh article was directed to the IT industry.

There are so many things I think about more carefully now. Small things: what it would be like to be an IT import to the US, sitting somewhere, solving telephone problems like the young Pakistani I got on the plane when my Palm Pilot went on the fritz? I had forgotten about him until now.

Aleppy — Quilon
Houseboat
Tuesday

It’s early morning and we are wending our way through the backwaters between Aleppy and Quillon. It’s magical. Palm trees line these canals and tiny houses/shacks dot the sides. Kids run out to see us and call out — I’m not sure what. Sometimes there are a few cows, and flat fishing boats ply back and forth. Laden with fodder. The fodder is piled up on the banks, sometimes wrapped around a palm tree trunk like a hay stack. Palm is everything here. We’ve watched it made into rope — incredible. The coconuts are soaked in a netted-off part of the waterway for a few weeks. Then the outer part peels off the fibrous inside is beaten until the fibers separate (metal pole against a stone0. After that the fibers are dried in the sun and then spun and doubled over to make a fine rope. The rope has endless uses. It’s oiled and used between the wooden planks that made this boat. The planks themselves are sewn together. All the rattan superstructure is made of palm too, and of course the bamboo supports are held together with rope. It’s quite miraculous. We also saw a mill — grinding pepper and squeezing oil out of coconuts.

We sit on a mat on the deck, shaded, with pillows for comfort. Actually, the mat is a foam pad, though I suspect they used to have coir carpet but that would be too rough to sit on. It’s on the floor, however.

Things you notice:
Rafts of ducks being herded by men in narrow wooden canoes; people washing themselves, their clothes, their cooking utensils; lots of kingfishers, egrets, cormorants. Today, driving down from the hills, we watched masses of beautifully turned-out children waiting for school busses or walking (a long way!) to school. It was children’s Day in the country so there was no class. but all the kids went to school, I think. We even saw a parade with a band in one town.

It's a hard life here. Anne and I talk about who amongst our friends would want to do a trip like this. For, not matter how wealthy or chaperoned you are, there is no avoiding people, and how different their lives are from ours. If one could be dropped into a particular spot, it would be easy. But driving from place to place, even in an air-conditioned car with a personal driver is exhausting.

Wednesday 6 AM

There’s no easy sleep here! Dawn on the river is the most active time with twenty or thirty small boats out fishing. They have long lines as well as circular nets, and one man ends up in the water with a bamboo pole, doing something to the net, then returning to hep haul it in. Anne and I are sequestered in our own cabin, mosquito net put aside, watching…the sights, colors and sounds are extraordinary. At least two temples seem to have loud music going on. The sun is just hitting the tops of the palm trees on the shoreline. We are anchored in the middle. Occasionally there is a loud boom — part of temple devotion. Now the sun is hitting the white headbands of the fishermen and reflecting off their bamboo poles. As Anne said, “well, we’re not in Vermont or Wisconsin!”

Taj Retreat Hotel
Varkala

The contrasts of this country are endless. Now we are on a hill overlooking the ocean, wrapped in comfort, with a shaded balcony that gives a view into broad-leaved coconut palms. The sound of the waves and a gentle breeze are all the disturbs the birds calling. But to get here was another three hours of dense, chaotic traffic, narrow roads, and to our appearances, narrow misses.

The beach town is about 45 Km north of the capital city, Trivandrum. It’s no so built up with hotels, although the roads down to the beach are lined with private houses. We’ll go wandering tomorrow, but today is just for R&R. they even have wine by the glass. No BBC or CNN.

Thursday, November 16, 2000
Taj Retreat Hotel

Today we definitely retreated. Actually, let’s be fair and go back to last night. We had drinks at the bar overlooking the pool, looking out at a good but not spectacular sunset. The post-sunset colors are wonderful however. An Indian flute player in the bar seemed determined to engage us but I didn’t want to be so responsive— neither of us did, so eventually we went downstairs and had dinner — good and very spicy which suited Anne well. Channel-hopping was not much good so I fell asleep by 9:30 I suspect.

This morning Anne was up at 5, and eventually I joined her to go for a walk in the cool of the morning. It’s the first day of the Malyalam month, so everyone was going to the local temple to get blessed. We didn’t even want to go near…beggars, indifferent and hostile looks, particularly from one man with a terrible skin disease who threw something at Anne. So, we watched a fire cracker being let off (one of thousands) and headed off to check out the town of Varkala. Not much there…a sleepy version of Drogheda (Ireland) waking up, with kids going to school or waiting for the bus, people walking to the temple, taxis adorned with garlands, and busses too.

During the day we went to Tourist Information by the beach cliff to see if we could get confirmed tickets on the railway. Not possible, so we’ll just take our chances. Our big adventure. Meanwhile we sat by the pool, had a snack, swam, and I exchanged a book for 50 rupees. Because there are so many travelers here it’s quite a successful racket. So, I exchanged the Icelandic saga for a book by an Indian writer. I’m amused. The book came to the USA from friends in Tasmania and from there to India!

Later

Now we are seated downstairs, outside the restaurant. There’s a hell of a commotion going on as people prepare to feed a large group for a conference that’s going on. Our flute player is back upstairs so we are at pains to explain to the waiter that we don’t want to drink up there. He’s willing to tell them to not harass us, but honestly, I don’t’ want to go through that. So, at the moment there’s flute music, the temple bangs, background mariachi music, a child’s squeaking toy, people milling around madly. But above all, there’s a beautiful sunset.

We went for an elephant ride! This was Anne’s idea and I’m so glad we did it. They were offered here by the hotel, so I decided to go for it. We were collected at 4 by a driver in an Ambassador car (no AC) and driven at breakneck slowness about 12 Km to the destination, a park-like area close to a river. There stood the elephant, a remarkably healthy-looking, clean, good-looking beast.

Time out to describe our dilemma. There’s 20 people around getting ready for the conference group. There are lights, banging chairs and new tables and total fuss, and all we want is a little peace and quiet. And the only place we can possibly get this is occupied by the flute player who is impossible to ignore. So, I’ve made a decision — to eat dinner elsewhere. And I wouldn’t mind but this is the first place that sells wine by the glass and I am drinking a $12 glass of wine! This is hilarious — we get a free meal into the bargain. So, we’ll have room service. I can’t believe it — there are kids in the kiddie pool and it’s after 7 PM! Children are incredibly spoiled here…they do not bring out the best in me.

Back to the elephant. We watched another couple go first, and then got up. what a lovely ride! I sat in front, my feet inside its neck rope, holding its knotted top. It’s actually quite comfortable if you sit forward, in front of its shoulders, on the cervical vertebrae. Anne was behind me, legs hanging, holding the ends of the knotted rope. She seemed pretty comfortable. We walked gracefully for about 300 yards and then returned. However, the elephant dearly needed to take a dump so he was pretty slow on the way back until he succeeded. Big dump, and it was definitely a “he”. His penis was enormous, at least as long and as thick as my arm. Wow. Getting up and down is not too easy and required help from two pairs of hands, perfectly happy to oblige. I think the mahout enjoys that part. They are such gentle creatures.

Oh, I’m becoming more like Mummy — there are kids here splashing away and their mothers encouraging them. That’s it! Time for room service!

Coconut Lagoon
(near Kottayam)
Friday 17th

Once again, following a whim has been the perfect choice. We are in a tropical paradise. This resort is situated on a coconut plantation on the edge of a bird sanctuary, by a lagoon in the middle of the backwaters. Each coconut tree is numbered and has an orchid plant fastened to its trunk. There are a number of cottages, some if not all built out of restored materials with teak furniture and a charming outdoor bathroom with a coconut tree growing through it. Our cottage is air=conditioned and even has a minibar. I’m happily back to drinking beer, allergies be damned. As with Spice Village, everything is very eco-friendly, beautifully arranged, and with an outstanding restaurant. We arrived by taxi from the train station to the hotel dock where a large launch sat trapped in weeds, or so it seemed. The channels here are almost impassible, being clogged with weeds that have dense rots. A struggle ensued to bring the boat closer to shore so that we could step on to it. then we had a 15-minute trip to the hotel to be greeted by a fresh coconut milk drink, a flower posy, and a dollop of stuff on the forehead. Now, by the pool, there are few people, lots of birds, little noise, and one of the best views of any pool I know, across the Vembanad Lake. Flowers abound, the staff is delightful and tipping is forbidden, except at the end into a large box. This makes life a lot easier for us and I’m never convinced that I get it right — either too much or too little.

We took our first train today! The same driver as from the elephant ride brought us to Varkala Station where there was lots of activity. He bought our tickets for us, a mere 36 Rupees for the two of us which seemed way too little, but we assumed we’d pay more on the train. We got into any compartment, not knowing what the behavior was. As it turned out, we were in second class sleeper without AC. But it was early enough, all the windows open, and relatively speaking we were shaded, particularly when we stopped. So we stayed put, though Anne checked out the front end AC’s via the restaurant, or rather, the kitchen car. Immediately after boarding there was a constant supply of tea, coffee, cold drinks, idly (breakfast cakes served with a vegetable stew on a palm leaf), and some miscellaneous fried things offered for sale very cheaply. People were pleasant to us. At each station a crowd with masses of pieces of small luggage would get on and establish themselves, shoving bags under benches and locking them to the legs of the seats with chains. The cars are cleverly designed for sleeping with a hanging bunk above the two bench seats, and another by the window that folds from facing chairs to bunk, with another bunk above. The conductor came through twice. The second time he asked for an additional 170 R. Maybe the first guy just checked that you should be on the train.

There was only one beggar at the station at Varkala, and a couple on the train at stations. All-in-all it was a great experience and I was ready to even take a bus to the resort, but hell, we had had our adventure for the day!

Last night there was a demonstration of Kalaripayattu, the local form of martial arts with swords, knives and shields. It was interesting — not overwhelming, but as it was being put on for the conferees and we felt ousted from the dining room, it was some compensation. Today we argued about the complimentary dinner — not served upstairs, and they agreed to pay for our dinner ‘snacks’ as part of it.

Saturday
Coconut Lagoon

Dinner was in the bar last night — two G&Ts for me and three rum and T’s for Anne. Consequently, when presented with a bill for my soda this evening, they assumed there must have been a gin with it! they were apologetic and I had the dubious honor of being remembered!

We woke early to go for a bird sanctuary walk. It was lovely, though very small — only 80 acres. But it’s on the edge of this great lake and adjoining wetlands, and as a result has quite a good local population of birds as well as migratory visitors. The guide mentioned that Siberian cranes used to come here. but the KTDC is building a holiday village beside the sanctuary and they host picnics on it. So give a few more years and it will probably be a thing of the past. Still, we saw herons, egrets, sun birds, and the snake bird, a local species that is very lovely indeed. They gather in the tops of trees and take flight outward, returning regularly during the day, but particularly in the evening at dusk. The herons were impressive too, including an immature. There were kites too, and we confirmed that it was an otter we saw in the water last night.

I think the juice at breakfast was a bad idea for I had an upset stomach all day. My solution was to sit and read, or sleep by the pool, and eat Pepto Bismol regularly as per directions from Anne! Seems to have worked, or at least I’m ready to try dinner.

We went out again this evening on the boat cruise which was lovely. Perhaps this will be the last of our peace and quiet until we’re back home.

At the desk a young clerk is planning our onward journey. Needless to say, we had some plans of our own. But we are learning that if someone has ideas of where we should stay, what train to take, etc., you should just go along with it. Normally I would resist, but so far on this trip it has served us well. Who knows where we will end up tomorrow. Needless to say, Anne is planning another 10 itineraries for us that can be accomplished in the next 4 days!

Guruvayoor
Hotel Sopanam Heritage
Sunday night

Well, we’ve definitely arrived at the end of the universe as far as Europeans or Americans are concerned, at least in the last 6 months! The guest book is filled with Indians, but only half a dozen others. Finally — as Anne reminded me — I have found a place off the beaten track!

What an enormous day. The most marvelous thing about these days is that it is impossible to predict what will happen next. We checked with Joshi at the desk early, but he hadn’t been able to do an itinerary. So we read the latest on the US election debacle in the newspaper 9a great article by Salman Rushdie in the Express), ate a leisurely breakfast, and said goodbye to Kathleen Mary and Charles, our drinking companions of last night. We hadn’t seen them around all day, so we asked them at dinner where they had been. It was easy to learn they were recently engaged. She has lived in Bangalore for 20 years and raised her two daughters there following widowhood. He lived in England, but travels to Bangalore often as his daughter is married to an Indian fellow there. So they met, got involved, and are now engaged. We asked them to join us in the bar and had a great evening with them. Kathleen speaks Scots Gaelic, so it was reasonably easy to converse with her — at least the general phrases. Charles was overwhelmed to hear a discussion in Gaelic in Kumakarum.

They admitted to a pretty good hangover this morning as we waved them off to Kochi. We left around 11 with another couple who were also going to the railway station at Kottayam. We got a boat down the canal to the jetty and then an Ambassador (250 R) to town. Next came the train to Trissur (134 R for 2). We weren’t sure what sort of ticket we had, but decided to upgrade if we could. As it turned out, we were adopted by a delightful pair of young women going home from Pharmacy School for a week’s vacation. They were Hindu and Muslim respectively, around 20 years old, and wonderful to talk to. I think we each learned quite a lot from the other.

We had 4 different stories as to when the train was due to leave, but as they were taking the same train, we decided to ride with them. I suppose I thought it would be crowded, but not that crowded. We got on to the last carriage, one reserved for women only, and it was full to the brim. In the normal space of 4-6 people there were at least 20. We were standing of course, with fans running and the windows open, but it was still pretty hot. But what an incredible experience: women of all ages, all looking pretty cool and poised by comparison with us, kids, baggage, but smiles, a little extra space, other people listening to our conversations and joining in — just incredible. However, the journey was to be 4 hours, so after an hour or more, I opted to move up to AC 1st. class and we paid a balance of 630 R. Still, for about 200 km of distance, we paid about $18 each.

In the AC First class we ended up sitting beside an English/South African couple on their way to a second week of Ayurvedic therapy. They were hilarious, but truly believed in its efficacy — this was their second year! They described a grueling regime of massage and diet, no booze or even fruit juice…rice and veggies and fruit and pills and oils and massage. Ugh! But they planned a week in Goa afterwards. They split their time between Greece, Portugal and London (does anyone work besides us?)

We got a taxi from Trissur to Guruvayoor as it was latish (260 R according to the cops, so this is what we paid), and were brought to our hotel, a new, Indian mid-range place which generally means 2 star. But we were met with orchid bouquets, one for each of us! They couldn’t do enough for us — housekeeping inspected our room personally. It was an embarrassment of attention. The hotel is huge and impressive but quite sterile. It boasts a veg. and a non-veg. restaurant and a bar, but as Anne pointed out, they were hardly going to let us hang out in the bar. Instead, we were ushered to the restaurant to have a beer there! It’s clean but not spotless, and already shabby around the edges. But we have complimentary fruit and biscuits, a TV with BBC world, and a bathroom with lots of hot water, and AC. It’s hilarious being such a celebrity. Jyoshi did us proud! Mind you, he has planned our next couple of days also, so that should be quite an adventure — north and east and back to the Tamil Nadu border, to a secluded resort that might not have quite the same cachet as Coconut Lagoon, but it’s a lot harder to get to which brings its own measure of charm.

We went out for a brief walk tonight into the throngs of pilgrims on their way to temple. It’s the Hindu equivalent of the haj, only this is a one-a-year event. Town was humming, and people were curious about us but not unpleasant. Most men are barefoot, wearing black dhotis (so as not to show dirt) and often with young kids (girls before puberty or after menopause can enter the temple). We’re not allowed, but that’s just fine. We are here at the height of religious season apparently.

When we returned, we got little gifts from the manager!

Viythri Resort
Monday night

Another truly amazing and hilarious day! But back to last night. Dinner was amazingly attentive. Our main waiter had spent 10 years in the gulf working with a French hotel group, made enough money to return, get married, and get a house. Now he has a daughter and doesn’t want to go back. The hotel itself was empty — and as we paged through the guest book, there were no Americans! There were a few Europeans (a Dane, two different English couples), and the rest Indians from the major cities of United Arab Emirates. The meal was good — a buffet that could have fed a dozen or more, and an Indian family did come in later. But it was embarrassingly empty. Similarly breakfast this morning with a hovering waiter. At least we had the newspaper to break the agonizing silence around us.

We went for a long walk around town early. Large groups of pilgrims were hanging around, getting ready to go to the temple, and there was a long line of pilgrims waiting to get in. It was heavily policed, presumably to keep out all the non-Hindus. The temple itself is nothing to look at. But there’s a huge bathing area beside it for the supplicants. Needless to say, the strain on the infrastructure is pretty heavy. But they have the equivalent of port-a-potties behind a rattan wall. There were signs for showers, and people everywhere, with busses of pilgrims plying back and forth. The pilgrims we saw chanting, coming off the train at Thrissur had probably been at Guruvayoor, prior to going to Sabarimala. According to the guide book, over a million people make this pilgrimage every year.

After breakfast we got an autorickshaw to the elephant sanctuary, about 4 km. from the hotel. Our young driver was a total cowboy, driving like a maniac. I thought the drive from Thrissur to Guruvayoor was bad, but this fellow was worse! There’s no avoiding it — and worse, we paid him to stay around and bring us back again!!

The elephant sanctuary was unique. There are about 40-50 elephants, mostly donated, and all for the temple purposes or occasionally, hiring them out to lumber yards. Our mahout had excellent English, so he filled us in on the history and answered most of our questions. He had been in a BBC documentary special in 1999. So, as you walk around the large compound, each elephant has a patch of ground large enough to be tethered, lie down, get a shower from a hose, eat, etc. In addition, there’s a big pool. Elephants get bathed about four times per week and scrubbed down with coconuts and stone. According to the mahout, this keeps them clean as they are not walking naturally through the forest, so they don’t get an opportunity to rub themselves against trees to clean up. At one time, four elephants were lying down, for all the world looking like they were luxuriating in the experience. Others walked around dragging their chains, hauling vast quantities of food here and there. They all looked really well cared for which surprised me. their “stalls” were mucked out, i.e., the huge pile of shit was raked to one side for removal, and the area raked freshly. The mahout also mentioned keeping their toenails clipped as they stand around in their own shit and urine quite a lot. It was a fabulous lace to see, even reassuring.

When we got back to the hotel, our taxi was waiting for the next stage of the journey…to the place called Viythri Resort, near Viythri, about 190 km away. We stopped by the bank (5 people doing the money transaction) and then headed north. What a long haul. The first half was through lowlands, along the coast although we couldn’t see it. Then after Calicut, we began some serious climbing to 2000 meters, in a dense mist. We had heavy rain earlier, and a ridiculously inadequate windshield wiper. Our poor driver. He had no idea where we were taking him, and in fairness, neither did we. Buses rule the road, and masses of them either passed us or narrowly avoided missing us. But he was a good and cautious driver — at least I felt safe.

Eventually we came to a sign that said Viythri Resort 3 ½ km and we headed off down a dirt road. Wow! The driver didn’t want to go any further, but as he didn’t speak English, we feigned ignorance and continued at a snail’s pace for about 20 minutes to our destination.

It’s hard to describe the place. Imagine a drug baron in Colombia with a comfortable hilltop hideout. It comprises a reception area (two guards, 3 men at the reception), a sries of really lovely traditional cottages (rondavels) as well as cement apartments set beside a fast-running stream in the middle of a jungle, with macaque monkeys leaping from branch to branch nearby. There were masses of monkeys on the road here too, hanging out on the parapets of roadside U-turn safety walls, or bridges. Amazing. I had heard monkeys calling when we were at Periyar, but had not seen any. The apartments are very tastefully done, spacious, with extremely high-quality fixtures, etc. apparently the owner of the resort is in Dubai (according to Sam, a guest whom we met shortly after our arrival, also from Dubai), and many of his colleagues come here. As it’s in the middle of the jungle there’s not a lot to do. But the potential for walking is endless, and there’s a VCR, snooker, and a restaurant that serves 3 meals.

We had an amazing time discussing how we might pay. Coconut Lagoon had said we coule use American Express or travelers cheques. But they said no here. We would have enough cash for 2 nights, but not enough to pay a driver to take us to the nearest bank or train. So they called the bank to see if they would change money…no…then later yes. Finally, the non-resident manager (as opposed to the resident manager) was consulted and he said OK to the travelers cheques, so we are in good financial standing. They also made a reservation at the Taj in Calicut for a night en route to Cochin.

We had coffee, chatted to the manager a little, and then did a little reconnoiter before coming back to our room to write. They have solar panels, and a generator, so the main lights are not on during the day, only from dusk to dawn.

It’s incredibly damp here. this is what Costa Rica must be like.

Tuesday

By the end of this trip, it looks like everything in the pack will have been used except the sheet bag, and that’s just as well — at least it’s wrapped around Tim’s present. The poncho? We thought there might be rain today as we went for a hike. Instead it became a “leech-free zone” as we removed shoes and socks and got rid of a few from Anne’s legs. Amazingly agile creatures. She got 3 good punctures that are bleeding an hour later, and a couple more scratches. Our respective medical kits came in handy too, and finally my carabiner and sling are being used as a clothes line on the balcony for some washed, bloody garments. The socks have been discarded — I doubt Anne would ever use them again, even when washed. Oh yes — and we saw a snake, peeking its head out from between the poles that form a bridge over the river. Quite the morning!

Later.

We’ve just had a superb Keralan lunch: rice and papadums, six dishes and 4 sides. Whew! A fish + coconut + turmeric dish, a great cabbage, carrot and turmeric dish, sambar, something with cucumber and coconut milk, dal, beans of some sort, and then a coconut lemon pickle + a wonderful sweet pickle like the sauce I’ve got at the kitchen store in Madison whose name totally escapes me. But there were curds…fermented, and quite horrible. I hope the gurgling in my stomach is not from that. I’ve been pretty careful with eating thus far. Dessert was great — semolina noodles cooked in sugared, boiled milk with cardamom, cashews and raisins. The solids are all fried in ghee (butter?) before being boiled. It was surprisingly good. Before the whole thing was a very spicy soup. I passed on that, however.

So last night as well as today, we seem to be the only ones eating here. the honeymoon couple ate in their room — he has a cold, and they left this morning. There was a family last night, but they ate on the patio. It was chilly too — I had thermal underwear on at dinner. The food was excellent, but they don’t have a license so there was no beer. Ah well.

The generator came on, but I was too tired to read and went to sleep. Coffee was delivered to our door at 7:30 AM as requested. Anne had been up since 5, but at least she got 6 hours of sleep. Mefloquine has had quite an effect on her: wild dreams and generally poor sleep. I’ve been more fortunate, at least if I take the stuff around breakfast. I took it after lunch one day and it ruined a perfectly good meal. Breakfast was coffee and toast and butter and jam, but also putto, steamed coconut and rice roll served with a mild vegetable sauce, another Keralan dish. Then we went for an excellent walk up to the next resort, the one that has tree houses. We met 6 people who were staying in them — Australians or English, just as we were congratulating ourselves that we had not seen another person in 40 minutes, a record! They were wearing leech socks which should have alerted us, but no. so we checked out the tree house and the clever hoist used, and walked further uphill to a wonderful location where another resort is being built — very, very slowly. The Australians had discovered the tree house in Conde Nast Traveler “room with a view”, which was a surprise. On the way down we stopped to pee and that’s when Anne discovered she had bloody legs. “They’re everywhere! They’re all through my socks…they got me…they’re all over!” the leeches did seem pretty adept at finding us and we brushed off quite a lot before stepping on to the poncho, all the better to see the little buggers.

So now we are washed and fed and relaxed and happy. Sabu is taking us to the lake later in a jeep.

Taj Residency, Calicut.
Wednesday 22 Nov. 2000

Back to life with Taj! Joy unlimited.

The lake trip was a very uncomfortable jeep ride down the hill, across the main road and not much farther. It was a tame, small lake with rowing or pedal boats, neither of which we wanted to use. It had a rather sad aquarium too. But the fun was being a pair of blond celebrities to a group of school kids from Calicut. They were hilarious, taking our pictures, and trying my binoculars, holding my hand, touching my hair! After that we were brought to a tea plantation, the “Chain tree” (with Sabu trying to explain the myth/story), a view (clouds unfortunately), past coffee and what else? I cannot remember, but the jeep ride was bumpy and dusty, and as we were in the back, we couldn’t see out. But he meant well, and we gave him a good tip.

We read a while, then had a good dinner. Anne had asked if there was any beer in the village on our trip, and Sabu said “no”, but at dinner he brought us a couple. Our bill read “special fruit punch”. Sabu could probably have procured anything for us, a real mover. We chatted for a while to the manager who wanted our ideas for things he might do in the future. We gave him some and felt good about it. But he didn’t come out to say goodbye to us (8 others did!), so maybe he took it as a criticism, which it certainly was not intended.

Coffee arrived at 7:30, and breakfast was at 8:30 as before: idly, sambar and coconut chutney as well as toast and jam and offers of an omelet. We went for an hour-long walk on the tarmacadam and spotted some monkeys playing in the trees above us, looking down at us as curiously as we looked up. Some people from the tree house passed us, going on a long day-trip I think, as they didn’t have luggage.

We checked out and paid $150 and a few rupees and signed the photocopies they made (yesterday’s jeep trip involved that too) pf our passports. Phew! The car was an hour late, an Ambassador, but he was a surprisingly good, slow driver for a young fellow. He brought along a companion and passed the keys to him at the end for the journey back, so maybe he was learning.

As I said earlier, it’s good to come back to Taj. We checked in in record time, had a swim, a shower, a beer and headed off walking to town to get some new clothes. It was deceptive, and within a few minutes we were dripping with sweat. Trying on shirts was wet and painful, but we made two different shopkeepers happy, buying men’s cotton shirts to have something clean, and leaving lots of dirty clothes here. the shopping area was alive at 5:30 and we were the only white faces anywhere — another adventure that I didn’t quite expect, but fun. It’s very busy in the city, and the hotel is in an out of the way place, so we took a rickshaw back. Now cool, hungry, but with train tickets in hand for tomorrow, we are supremely happy.

Taj Malabar, Cochin
Thursday 23 November.

Anne is in a pack/organize frenzy. The room looks like a bomb hit it. And of course, today involved a lot more purchases.

Dinner last night was OK to good, not great. Unfortunately, it came with loud, live music. But we are pretty tolerant. Besides, the waiter was dressed a la Texas for a barbecue grill and the place was at odds with anything Indian. But with Taj efficiency, all was done well, we checked out quickly, the car was waiting, and we drove to the station. Our ticket had a carriage/seat number, and the list of carriages and their location on the train was posted, so we even knew where to stand. Now, it wasn’t Japan, but by most non-European standards it was perfection. The AC was as cold as we had been warned, but it was less than 4 hours (for $7 each). Amazing.

We arrived in Cochin…oh, I forgot. I used the squat train toilet. Accuracy improves with time, and Kleenex and nifty hand wipes are wonderful accessories. Took a cab back to the Taj Malabar and marveled at how far we had come in just 2 ½ weeks. Everything seemed so normal, interesting, not at all intimidating. The hotel also had lots of changes. When the construction is finished here it will be absolutely wonderful. The welcome was overwhelming and we got the best room in the house, 710, top floor, corner, looking outward and inward over the harbor. Wow. Our “left luggage” was returned promptly and we laughed at the king-sized bed…we’ve shared a bed on the first and last days of this trip. The minibar was well-stocked.

We took a row boat across to Jew town and went to see the Dutch Palace, our only semblance of cultural activity on the trip. Of course, the gate was half chained and one had to duck and squeeze to get in (Maybe someone had lost the key?). We passed a mongoose, and a man with a cobra in a basket! That was hilarious as it’s the typical India scene, but we certainly didn’t expect it there. the palace is pretty shabby, but the murals downstairs are hilarious: Shiva or some other God with 13 very full-bosomed lovelies ministering to his every need.

The vendors were as aggressive as before, so we checked out only books. Anne purchased, and a wonderful air-conditioned leather store. The quality was superb and the prices about ¼ of what I would expect to pay. So, we bought presents for ourselves happily. Our row boat had waited. Back for a light, late lunch. It began to rain but the sunset cruise went out as planned with a very sweet couple from California – a most unlikely pair of overweight adventurers.

Friday 24th.

It’s our last morning looking out on this incredible, intensely busy port. I didn’t realize it, but besides flowers, we got complimentary champagne and beer. Last night at dinner, a group beside us was having pre-ordered turkey for thanksgiving dinner, so Prakash from the staff steered some our way as a little appetizer. We also got a couple of rich desserts which probably contributed to both of our many night-time trips to the bathroom. Still, we both slept well so it wasn’t too debilitating.

Being higher than the last visit, we can see the minarets across in Mattancherry, and the Christian church across on Vallar Padau or Balghatty Island — it’s hard to tell.

Approaching Frankfurt
Saturday morning

Everyone seemed to be out on the steps waving goodbye to us. All went well, the flight to Madras was on time (Jet Airways is very efficient), and then the assault began. Everyone has an angle and you can do nothing by yourself. A nicely-dressed young man with an airport ID told us about left luggage and brought us there. But he wanted us to go to a particular store where we could get a 5% discount, wanted to organize the taxi to stop there en route to the cinema (our chosen destination), and wanted us to take an ‘outside’ taxi as opposed to pre-paid. He got his cell phone out to alert people to our coming, whereupon we gave him the slip and got the prepaid cab. They, in turn, wanted to stop at a shopping destination (two men in the cab, one to make hand signals), prior to the cinema. The laugh was, when we did finally get to the cinema, they were showing “The Perfect Storm”, not a Bollywood film as we had hoped, so we had to come up with an alternative.

Cinema (Madras) is a large city, and as a result, quite a bit more of a challenge than we’ve had before. People live on the streets, traffic is murderous (6 million people?), and kids beg all over, tugging at your sleeve or putting their hands in the cab window. Glasses, not just sunglasses, but even regular ones provide something of a shield. We walked briskly to Higgenbotham’s bookstore and returned to AC seclusion! What to do next? It was getting dark so we once again elide on Taj and retreated to their Connemara Hotel for a drink and a snack. Just to be free of people saying what do you want, or buy this, is worth whatever they charge. Next, we went to an adjacent mall where we found an Internet place, and Anne logged on to the Burlington Free press. That was fun and somewhat amazing, to be able to check out the local election results for 25 rupees for less than an hour connection, about 60cents.

Aside — I’ve got an incredibly irritating ADD man in his early 20s beside me who cannot stop fidgeting or stroking his hair. Hell, I wouldn’t give a damn, but every time he does this it shadows the light and makes it harder for me to read or write.

After that we got the Taj to get us a cab to the Trident Hotel, scene of our first night in India. There we had dinner at their restaurant which seemed to be filled with noisy, spoiled kids. The allure of India was fading…and we wanted to be on the plane. Once again, to kill a final few hours, we went to the bar where we were the only females of course. The shuttle bus took us to the airport, and I think we were both a little surprised to actually recover our left luggage! The look of grim determination on our faces as we wheeled it to the entrance was quite a sight, and nobody messed with us. The airport was a zoo, both inside and out. I think midnight must be the busiest time at an international terminal. The only real miscalculation was that the clothes I had planned to change into were off limits as security had pasted a tab over the lock on my pack when I checked it into the airport. The security was overwhelming — body searches as well as every piece of luggage marked and thoroughly checked. I can only surmise that Lufthansa has given up on any orderly way to load a plane with Indians, as chaos continued. But finally, we were installed and off. I slept… it was, after all, past my bedtime!