Hospitality in Hampi pt 1

The first thing I noticed as I boarded the overnight bus was the size of the bunks – surprisingly spacious compared to the the rail bunks I had grown used to. Unfortunately, I was soon brought back to Earth with the revelation that I had actually only bought half a bunk. My new friend, a Scottish lad called Badger, had fantastic stories and we chatted until early morning before catching a few hours sleep in the cramped berth. On arrival in Hampi, thirty rickshaw drivers were on hand to hassle us and give us the first taste of Hampi hospitality. I had called ahead and booked a room in one of the hotels, on the road-side of the river as I knew Iwould need to head straight to the train station to queue for a ticket. With a quick chai, I took a 30 minute rickshaw ride to the train station and starting queuing.

To explain my predicament, I had a waitlisted ticket for my train journey to Jodhpur – which means I couldn’t actually board the train unless 8 other people cancelled their journeys. As I was almost certain that wouldn’t happen, I had to buy a ‘taktal’ ticket, which are held back and sold the day before the train departs. The 2 hour queue was worth it, my 2AC ticket (2nd class air-con) was available and I headed back to Hampi a lot less stressed about getting to Rajasthan. The rest of the day I gave over to exploring Hampi with Badger and the some of the ruins of the capital of the kingdom of Vijayanagar, which reached it’s apex in the 14th century. The architecture & backdrop was stunning, though the midday heat drove us back to the town. After probably the worst meal I had whilst in India (it was a ‘noodle’ dish made with spaghetti) we headed back out and I took a ton of photos. For dinner we trekked across town, through the main temple and banana plantations, to a riverside restaurant that served a great thali meal.

I found out that Badger wasn’t just a nickname, but his middle name, and he had spent the last few months in Rajasthan working on a zip-line company based there. ‘Flying Fox’ had 3 bases & he had worked at a couple of them before getting fired for getting too drunk on NYE and going skinny dipping in the pool at Neemranha Palace. He was a top guy and was spending a few more months travelling around India before heading somewhere else to find another job in the outdoors’ activities business. This was the first place where we were greeted with some actual politeness, as the hotel, every other cafe and the locals were all terribly rude. I’m not sure whether it was because I decided to share the room with Badger and only stay one night, but the hotelier was a prick when I tried to pay; but it didn’t stop there because most of the locals I talked to, whether to buy some water or hire a rickshaw, were just not that nice. In any case, I only had one night there so after checking in online I went to bed in preparation for an early start the next morning.

Patnem, Goa

Goa is a strange place. It is surrounded by mountains that meant it was left alone by the other Indian states before Independence, leaving the Portugese influence to permeate through it’s culture, food and people. I didn’t travel to India for drunken full-moon parties or all-night raves, for which Goa is famous, so I tried to keep to quiet towns and beaches. Palolem and Patnem seemed to fit the bill – close to Margao, South Goa and away from the built up beaches that stretch along the central coastal region of Goa. That being said, Patnem was far nicer than Palolem as it was a lot quieter, a bit more chilled out and generally cleaner. I walked down Palolem on my second day in Goa to try and find a restaurant from my Rough Guide but the beach was so long and crowded that I gave up and headed inland to a ‘German Bakery’ serving momos and chow mein. It was a stifling 36 degrees and 80% humidity, so the creaking fans and cold beer were very welcome. The town next to the beach was extremely focussed towards tourists, though this wasn’t all bad as alongside the two dozen stalls selling tea, towels, trinkets and tat were a couple of very good books stores and travel agents with surprisingly fast broadband. I bought a Lonely Planet guide to Rajashtan, Agra and Delhi in order to plan my onwards journey and Midnight’s Children as I had never read any Rushdie before.

I spent the rest of my time on Patnem beach, with brief jaunts to Sun&Moon travel agents and the Secret Garden to sort out tickets, eat and sleep.

Patnem lay between two outcrops of land, a secluded bay with calm surf and perfect white sand. Around a dozen restaurants/bars backed onto the beach, though between them and the sea there was an expanse of sand that was hop-inducingly hot by the afternoon. There isn’t much to tell about the remainder of my time in Goa, though I did have an interesting visit from Angel who had found a very cheap shack to stay in, as Secret Garden was a bit beyond his price range. He rocked up around 10am in flip-flops, sunglasses, a T-shirt and a pair of swimming short-shorts. He definitely got a few strange looks from the locals. After a little stress booking my overnight bus to Goa, and train tickets up to Raj, I had a plan. I would take the overnight bus from Goa to Hampi for 1000 rupees on Friday night. I would stay one night, get to the train station to book a ‘Taktal’ ticket on Saturday morning then board the train at 2am as Hampi station. It sounded a lot easier than it was, but I will come to that later.

All in all I found Goa satisfied my urge to sit on a beach and do nothing, but it lacked character. Kannur had quieter beaches, Delhi had better nightlife and it just seemed that everything was so geared towards making money off Western tourists that there was no local community left. The one thing that made a real difference to my experience and would make me consider returning, was Nazeer at the Secret Garden. He was a fantastic host – providing great tips on where I should go, cooking a top breakfast and even offering to set up a driver to take me around Raj. His accommodation was comfy, clean, cheap and some of the best I stayed in during my time in India. In any case, I left Nazeer and headed to a car park where I waited a quick hour for my overnight nightmare to Hampi.

 

Finally getting to Goa

The glorious Bank Holiday sunshine, and several friends, have reminded me of my awful laziness with regards to completing my travel blog. I have gone through and edited the majority of my photographs and will be uploading them to Flickr and Facebook later this week, however I have been very lax with both my blog and the photos. So, I apologise if you have been waiting patiently for this.

I left off singing the praises of Kannur and my hostess Hyacinth, a long journey north ahead of me. It was my first proper experience with Sleeper class on a train – windows open to the elements, wallahs selling everything from chai to pakoras to toys & Indians surprised that I was in the Sleeper carriage. I was lucky enough to find myself sat next to the ’emergency’ window, so my view was unrestricted by the bars welded across other windows. My five hour journey was along a stretch of track known as the Konkan Railway, which runs along the Western coast of India for 460 miles. It was stunning. Between Mangalore and Margao I sat not in my seat, but at the doorway of the carriage, door open and feet on the steps. It is something that you could never experience on a train journey in the West and I loved it. It became my adopted spot on the train after that & it was one that couldn’t be beat for views.

Whilst on the train, I chatted with a Greek guy called Angel who didn’t know where he was heading after Margao. I told him about Patnem, the beach I was on my way to after a recommendation from Nick in Alleppey, and he asked if he could tag along, to which I happily agreed. He had a smaller budget than mine, so persuaded me to take a couple of buses instead of a taxi. It saved us about £4 in all and was a pretty horrendous experience all round. The bus from the train to the bus station looked about 50 years old, took an age to arrive and was seriously over capacity. That sweaty journey sat next to a very large old man was followed by another, on an even smaller bus. However this bus was what I liked to call the ‘Party Bus’. Lit up both inside and out, Bhangra blasting and a driver disinclined to travel at less than 40mph, the Party Bus was took me on yet another harrowing bus journey.

Angel and I arrived at The Secret Garden around 10pm. The owner, Kashmiri Nazeer, welcomed us into a cosy Oasis, hung with fairy lights and scented by beautiful flowers. Angel agreed to share the hut for the night and we ventured out to find a well-needed Kingfisher and dinner. On finding a lush restaurant, we both ordered the thali and were not disappointed. I picked up a Kingfisher from the nearby bar and enjoyed it on the veranda of the hut before heading to bed.

Paradise

My journey down the Western Ghats was even more fun than my journey up. There was a thunderstorm, the bus driver was even madder and the bus even more decrepit. On my usual back seat I was joined by a little boy, who played stickcricket on my phone and looked at some of my photos in wonder. On arriving in Kannur, a friendly guy asked where I was staying and after showing him an address strode off with me in tow. Five minutes later I was stood waiting for another bus, having tried in vain to tell him I’d be happy to get a rickshaw. He pushed me and my bag up the steps of a local bus, literally packed with people, and I wedged myself in between two guys so I wouldn’t fall. As the bus slowly emptied, I managed to squeeze onto a seat offered by someone and paid 5 bucks to go 5km. I got another rickshaw to Costa Malabari, where I was given another fabulous homecooked dinner. I fought off some mozzies and went to bed.

In the morning I opted for the non-Indian breakfast, I was beginning to tire of curry for breakfast every day. A spicy curry just isn’t very appealing at 7 am, especially if you also had it yesterday for lunch and dinner. Anyway I walked down to Thottada beach, 5 minutes away, and found myself completely on my own for most of the morning. It was bliss – beautiful, white shell dotted sand and the wonderfully calm Arabian ocean. After chilling for the morning, I had lunch and returned to the beach to find it busy with locals who had come after Sunday service. As nice as it was to talk to people, being constantly questioned and having them take photographs of me whilst I was trying to relax got a bit annoying so I went back up to the veranda to read.

I decided to head to a different beach and a well recommended place down the coast for my final night in Kerala. Ezhara beach house, run by the great Hyacinth, was full – but Hyacinth’s neighbours had a small annex with amazing sea views and small, cool rooms. They were also more than half the price, perfect for me. The hammocks amongst the trees, deserted beach backed by palms and beautiful sea. Except for remote islands in the Caribbean or Indian/Arabian oceans, I really don’t think you could get any closer to the ideal ‘paradise’ beach. All for £15 a night full board. Ridiculous.

The house had a small library and I picked out a book to read in a day – The Hunger Games. As I have said previously I really liked it and am intrigued by how well the film does it justice. It seems so opposite to the Twilight series, with a strong, interesting lead female character full of flaws and contradictions as compared to a dull, empty character onto whom the reader can project their own life story. The cliched love triangle was included in a more unique way and the action and plot were great. I actually like good teenage fiction, its my guilty literary pleasure – Garth Nix and Charlie Higson are my favourite authors in this genre. For balance, I have read Shantaram, re-read the Holmes adventures and am currently some way into Bill Clinton’ autobio.

Kannur truly was one of my highlights in Kerala and to be honest I would much rather have extended my stay further in lieu of Goa, but I forced myself to add it to the list of places to return to and continue my northward journey in order to experience what the rest of India had to offer.

Wild Wayanad

I arrived at Calicut around 6.30am, having slept a solid 8 hours and almost going past my stop as I didn’t set an alarm. It was alright in 2AC with 4 berths and a power socket next to me, even if it was a squeeze. Calicut was a pretty forgettable city, which I soon left far behind on the first bus up to the mountains. I got a prime seat at the back and the bus was soon heading up into the mountains. It was a steep climb, with tight hairpins and incredible views near the top. More than 3 hours later I was poked off the bus in Mananthavady.

I’d booked a home stay near Mananthavady, arriving just in time for lunch. The rickshaw ride was absolutely awful, the roads were probably the worst I’d seen in India – they used to be tarmac but were now more pot hole than road. Varnam Homestay was fantastic though, the hosts Vargas and Beedu were friendly and very welcoming; Beedu preparing the delicious meals and Vargas easy with a joke and quick to laugh. I spent a couple of hours relaxing in a hammock and followed an Austrian couple onto a ‘roadside safari’. It was, as I thought it might be, rather disappointing – we drove though part of a wildlife sanctuary on what was the main thoroughfare between north Kerala and south Karnataka. There were a few species of deer, a variety of monkeys, some pretty birds and that’s about it. All the bigger animals were scared away by the traffic. We did visit an elephant ‘training camp’ which was another depressing venture; in the 45 minutes we stayed all twenty or so elephants that lived there were paraded in front of us, some then being chained up, and fed. It was certainly an interesting experience and I’m still not sure how I feel about it. On the one hand they are a lot safer from poachers than wild elephants, but on the other I can’t say it felt comfortable. The two bulls were chained up, the keepers all had big sticks with sharp hooks on the end and they weren’t particularly frugal with their use. All in all though they seemed to be fed well, looked after mostly positively (one received a massage and medicine whilst I was there) and were kept together as a herd. So they were better off than some elephants I’ve seen here.

On my second morning we were told there was a local festival going on and a Turkish group & I piled into the jeep about 10am in order to experience it. Once we arrived it was clear that we were going to be another one of the attractions. A local photographer immediately started talking photos of us and there was a constant stream of shy little children who accosted us with “Hello, how are you, what is your name?” A few asked for photos, to which I happily obliged – one group wanted to take photos themselves so I have a several photos of myself, taken by three kids. At first there were two queues of people waiting for blessings, each from a different god. There followed a theyyem, a traditional dance show that is hard to describe. In this version, three guys were made up and dressed up as gods (I’m guessing gods of agriculture) and to the beat of a dozen drummers went through three stages.

In the first they danced around the area, giving out rice which the crowd had to throw back. They were held on each arm by two devotees, who kept them in check. Each then returned to their shrine, where they threw off their holders. The next stage was a wild one, where they occasionally rushed at the crowd, grabbing a person or demanding an offering. The crowd jeered and screamed at them until they danced away. Finally they went to the other gods, got blessed and sat back at their shrines. It was cool. We also we invited to lunch with everyone, ushered past the queue of 150 women and children, and sat in front of our banana leaves. The food was great – hot, fresh and tasty. I think the Indians were impressed with how we ate with our hands. Once it finished, I went for a shave at a barber’s and paid 30p for a skillfully done cut-throat shave, which I quite enjoyed.

Not a lot happened after that and I got the bus down to Kannur on the coast for my final stop in Kerala. I have been listening to the Les Mis soundtrack (Russell Crowe in awesome) and to Macklemore’s album The Heist – loving Thrift Shop and BomBom. I am now in Udaipur, having left Hampi and Jodhpur. I still haven’t posted my postcards either, even though I’ve written them.. So if you were expecting one then you may be waiting a while. Sorry about that. Next entry – Kannur.

Varkala – sins destroyed.

I hastily moved out of Jickys and fled up the road to Kaiyas House, greeted by green tea and a cold towel to refresh me. Debra, the American owner, was welcoming and offered a quick tour around her house and the town. I accepted, dropped my bags off and was soon walking around parts of Varkala town and beach I’d not seen. I chilled out in the morning at a cafe on the edge of the beach, then spent the afternoon on the beach itself, reading and trying not to burn further.

As I returned to my room I spotted the temple elephant just down the road, mentioned earlier by Debra. Grabbing my camera, I chased it down barefoot, to get some photos of it walking daintily down a set of steps. I agreed to go on a early morning walk the following day and so got an early night. At 5.30 I was massively regretting this walk, but got up anyway and had some coffee. Three hours later I felt much happier about the early start as the walk to another beach further up the coast wa great. I got to know the two guys and the girl who also came along, unfortunately ended up having law chat with Miranda who had done her LLB and gone into advertising. I had a proper breakfast then met Mary and Lisa for a mid morning juice, with Miranda and an Australian girl who was staying at Kaiyas having escaped from an ashram.

Spent most of the day on the beach again (it’s been real hard work here), then in the evening we went to the Varkala temple. I was chased out of the temple proper by a tiny old woman because I wasn’t supposed to be there, rather annoying but oh well. In one corner there was a Mangrove tree, or something similar, hung with hundreds of dolls. It was quite disconcerting, and we were told it was an offering tree for married couples who couldn’t conceive. There was a couple there who were making an offering and they looked very sad, so I hope it works for them. Or they go and get IVF, or adopt.. both of which have an infinitely greater chance of actually leaving them with the child or children they wanted.

My train left at 9.30pm so I had dinner with everyone, Sharon teaching us some basic NLP (which is awesome), then said goodbye and was waved off by Debra, her cook and Miranda, which was nice. Currently still in Hampi, leaving tonight. Not been listening to music but In Our Time podcasts – me and Sharon spent ages discussing our mutual love of Radio 4, which reminded me to download some. Good old Melvyn. Still way behind on these, but trying to catch up! And add photos where I can.

Varkala

My flight from Bangalore to Trivandrum, way down South on the tip of the peninsula, only took an hour and I took a rickshaw into the town to find he bus to Varkala beach. After a bit of tramping around I located the place it stopped and enjoyed a quick ride up the coast. Unfortunately once I arrived I was completely lost. I wandered down a road and found myself at what I correctly assumed to be the South end of the beach. I ended up trekking the length of the bloody beach with my pack on in the midday sun, then up 40 steps to the ‘helipad’ and still couldn’t find where I was meant to be going. 20 minutes searching later I found the place, but rather than the nice looking main building I was put in some crappy little annex. I wasn’t happy but couldn’t be bothered finding somewhere else for the moment, so took a shower, changed and headed to the North Cliff.

The Papansam beach in Varkala extends for maybe 2k, the cliffs behind split by a valley. The South beach is frequented by Hindus who pray and drop offerings into the sea to relieve them of their sins.. I think. I stuck around on the touristy North Cliff, which extends for another km or so past where the beach ends. On my first day I spent the afternoon in a cafe with fantastic juices and smoothies, only 50 bucks each which is great. Gorged myself on those to recuperate and then had an early night, fighting off the mosquitos.

The next day I went to the beach, swam amongst the massive breakers in the sea and got sunburned. By pure coincidence, as I sat in a popular restaurant called Little Tibet, I was joined by Mary, Lisa and Sharon who’d also come for dinner. As we caught up over drinks, a bloke wandered in and was called over by Lisa. He introduced himself as Derrick and he was a Canadian writer who told fantastic stories about falling off the Varkala cliff whilst drunk and getting beaten up by a group of guys he hitchhicked with. If he once had 9 lives he is surely down to the last few. I had another rubbish night opposite some crazy Frenchmen and decided to move the following day for my final night and got a room in a highly placed guesthouse on tripadvisor – Kaiya House.

Up to date I’ve arrived at Hampi, found astoundingly cheap accommodation for one night and am leaving tomorrow for Jodhpur. Have been publishing these a few days after I have wrriten them usually so they will still be delayed. Part two of Varkala and travelling to Wayanad will comprise my next entry.

Luxury in Bangalore

I wasn’t really ready for the difference between the accommodation I had been staying in, which was by no means slumming it, and the hotel my mum was in for 3 nights in Bangalore. From arrival back into Bangalore train station, where a driver and a/c car awaited me, to the staff at the hotel, who were astoundingly numerous and overly helpful, and the glorious room looking out over the city, it was very strange to be stepping into a new view of India.

It was lovely to see a familiar face and after I took a quick nap and recovered from the food poisoning sufficiently, we set off for the Lalbagh Botanical Gardens in a rickshaw that was so beat up I was surprised it made it there. Bangalore traffic was fantastic fun, though my mum didn’t seem to think so. The gardens reminded me of Kew, except the entire places was a tropical temperature rather than just the greenhouses; they were beautifully laid out with a Royal Palm avenue, a Bonsai garden and a giant tree the highlights.

As mum had to work in the evening, I had a small dinner and watched King Kong on the TV. The next morning, a trip to several Hindu temples followed a buffet breakfast. My mum, her work colleague Rob and I squeezed into a splendid rickshaw and set off. Four temples comprised our tour: Shiva, Ramen, Ganesha and the Bull Temple. The last of these was the most impressive, though the Shiva temple was actually a massive white-washed cave and felt quite holy. I had the afternoon to myself so I went for a swim, slept some more and watched Slumdog Millionaire in a new light.

In the evening I joined the team working with my mum for dinner at a wonderful European restaurant. I had veal cheek risotto with saffron rice, and half of a chocolate souffle. The risotto was good but the souffle was absolutely stunning – perfectly sweet and bitter, rich and melting in the middle -accompanied by a great pistachio ice-cream. Everyone was similarly impressed with their fare. Unfortunately we couldn’t make a night of it as we all had flights early the next morning. Despite being brief, it was really nice to see my mum here and meet the others, who were heading all over India and beyond. It does get a bit lonely travelling on your own, but I have really enjoyed it so far and it has definitely added to the experience. I have been listening to The Smiths a lot over the last few days, trying to decide my favourite album. I’ve settled on The Queen Is Dead, for now. I am leaving Goa today and travelling to Hampi tonight by overnight sleeper bus. Fantastic.

Karnatakan chicken

I was at the airport far too early, my two hour wait followed by a 45 minute flight. Over the Western Ghats and descending into a very modern Bangalore airport. My train wasn’t for a couple of hours so I managed to catch a leisurely bus into town, find an internet cafe to book a hotel in Mysore and search around for a Rough Guide recommended meal joint near the station. After entering this place, almost even person there swung their heads to stare at me. This isn’t too uncommon in India, but it continued throughout my lunch, which was out of the ordinary – obviously not too many white people ate there. I ordered the Chilli Chicken, also recommended by the RG, with a thali meal and it appeared almost immediately. it was nothing special.

Anyway I found my train and seat in the madness of Bangalore train station and had a pretty uneventful 3 hours. My hotel was a little nicer than my previous accommodation, with a nice ensuite and cable tv. I ventured out to find a restaurant, but only managed to get myself well and truly lost. I wandered around for about an hour, retracing my steps & passing the same places again and again. My the time I placed myself on the map I was very hot and irritable, then it was another 10 minutes finding an alternative restaurant. I ate my tandoori chicken and veg curry, even though it was lukewarm and disappointing.

It will suffice to say that I got food poisoning from one of those chicken dishes and was very ill for the next three days. I was well enough to visit the impressive Rajs Palace and the market, and after 24 hours the worst of the vomiting had passed so I was okay on the journey back to Bangalore, but my elaborate day out was ruined; instead I sat in bed drinking water and watching films. Grim. I haven’t touched chicken since.

Right now I am on a train from Kannur to Goa, leaving Kerala far behind. I found a copy of The Hunger Games at my last stop in Kannur and read it in a day. I was pleasantly surprised as it is rather good teenage fiction, not too angsty with fleshed out characters and an interesting, if simple, plot. I will try and find the others whilst I’m here as I quite enjoyed it.

Backwaters Part 2

With my Munnar trip starting very early the next morning, I was planning to set off for Fort Cochin around 4.30am. However I got a phone call from the organiser around 8pm saying the trip was off as someone had pulled out. As I hastily tried to find somewhere else to stay in Munnar the power went out, along with the internet. After a few hours waiting to no avail I decided that I would sack Munnar in, fly to Bangalore earlier than planned and visit Mysore. I couldn’t check flights but asked Marie to arrange a taxi to take me to a travel agent early the next morning then on to the airport.

Following breakfast I headed out with all my gear to Alleppey at 8. Every travel agent was closed until 9.30. I also tried ringing the various airlines, only to be told to ring back at the same time. So I sat and waited.. And waited. The travel agent finally opened, and I explained to him what I wanted. He didn’t look hopeful. As it turns out, rather than the usual 6 direct flights a day from Cochin to Bangalore, on Tuesdays there are only 2. One of which had already departed. Not only were there no seats on flights, there were no seats on any overnight buses to Mysore or Bangalore. I was stuck. Luckily Marie did have a spare room for the night so I bought a ticket for a flight on Wednesday and headed back to Green Palm.

It turned out alright though as during the day I got chatting to the new arrivals – Nick, Mary, Lisa and Sharon – and we got on quite well. Spent the day lazing around again, booked a train to Mysore and went for a walk to the nearest Toddy parlour for a nightcap. Fermented from coconut flowers, it was pretty horrible stuff. In the evening, during the blackout, I played cards with the others -winning a game of biscuit and losing a game of cheat. We made plans to meet up in Varkala and said goodbye. Finally I planned my next steps, to Mysore via Bangalore then back again, meeting my mum back in Bangalore for a few days, as well as places to visit in Mysore.

Early in the morning, having evaded a spider the size of my hand in my room, I got back on the little canoe across the river and headed to Cochin Airport. I have been afflicted with illness, laziness and a lack of wifi which has prevented me from posting blog entries. However I’ve written a few now so they should be going up every few days from now on. Lana Del Ray’s fantastic album has been keeping me company on the beach, along with a mix of Feeder, Blink-182 and other 00’s classics.