Life and love on the Road

First impressions of Delhi and the Indian health system

tessafb — Wed, 23 Jan 2008 23:52:00 GMT

Waaaaah, Delhi is freezing! It was 9 degrees when we got in last night, and I was just totally miserable. I am going to live in my thermals for the next month. I had bought a warm jacket in Goa for nearly $30 and that saved my skin last night. However, now that we are here i am tempted to ditch it for another, as it is a bit bulky and uncomfortable to wear. We bought woollen gloves, hat and scarf today, so with some more tops i should be fine. I think. Its so hard to dress for the cold!

At least Delhi is the furthest north we plan to go in India. I would die in Nepal right now.
Delhi and northern India is very cool, very different to southern India. We are staying in an area called Main Bazaar, and its full of very tiny, old windy streets and alleys. It feels more medieval and old. There are more people around too, the city seems very packed all the time, unlike the full, but not so crowded spaces down south. Touts are not so bad, I think Goa was the worst we will have with these. Today we went to visit an old tomb of a Mughal emperor. It predates the Taj Mahal (built in the 1500s), but is very similar architecture, and is world heratige listed. It was just amazing, and has been totally restored by the Indian government to its original glory. The style is very Islamic in its soaring domes, and stars, but the Indian influence shines through in its use of white marble and glorious ochre red accents in the building.

I am really excited, as tommorrow we get to explore Old Delhi, which I expect to be even more small alleyways, medieval style winding streets and crowded Bazaars. Aside for the bazaars, we will visit an ancient mosque there and the famous Red Fort, a grandious protection for the city from ancient times.

Ooh, I also had my first experience of the Indian public healthcare system today. The last hospital I went to (in Mumbai) was private, and today I simply went to one listed in the Lonely Planet, not realising that it was public. It was messy, confusing and totally chaotic. And sad. I got directed to about 4 or 5 different places until I reached the rabies centre. There were masses of people lined up outside, including the old, very poor, and very young who had also been bitten by dogs etc. And when i say lined up, I lined mean Indian lines, ie massing. The office had to shut early for lunch and I had about 3 doors shut in face before any one explained that. So we sat around for an hour, only to be told then that I couldn't get treated bc I had no forms. Argh. So i went to one woman to get forms, lined up in another place to see a doctor and get them stampled and then another place to finally get the injections. Even here, or maybe especially here it pays to be pushy - you get in first. It also pays to be a foreigner. I was partly revolted by how quickly I got propelled past lines by staff and partly thankful. The whole experience still took hours for what should have been a simple jab. It may not be possible to get the necessary 5 rabies shots if I have this much trouble at a major hospital in the captial of the country! I have my fingers crossed that it gets easier...

....and warmer ;)

Mumbai - colonial clashes with Bollywood excess

tessafb — Mon, 21 Jan 2008 23:41:00 GMT

Well, Mumbai was a interesting city. It was so good to be in a big city after Goa, there is something about certain cities that live and breath, it's a certain buzz. Bangkok has this energy about it and so does Mumbai. I think its something about the immense number of diverse life stories being played out simultaneously in parallel - and something different going on every second of the day.

We spent the first few days wandering round and soaking up the colonial elegance and grandeur of the old Colaba and Fort Areas. If nothing else, the British made beautiful grand old buildings in this country, including libraries, railway stations and art galleries. There is also an amazing sky blue synagogue that stands as though slightly bashful about being in India. It just doesn't seem to fit.

Another day we took the ferry accross Mumbai harbour to Elephanta island, named by the Poruguese after they saw an old stone elephant statue on the island and presumed it to be alive. In fact there are no elephants on the Island (and never have been), but instead a mighty climb to a set of old cave temples devoted to the god Shiva. There was one amazing statue of Shiva as creator, preserver and destroyer, but sadly the rest of the temples have been allowed to deteriorate and lacked any impressive features.

Finally, on our last day in Mumbai we had the ultimate experience of the town - we were extras in a Bollywood film. As glamourous as it sounds, the reality was somewhat different...

They picked us up early in the morning from the hotel in a taxi only to drop us off at the train station and take us via train and another taxi to the Intercontinental, one of the most flashy 5 star hotels in India....
When we got there we were rushed over to people who told us to "quickly quickly" get into costume, hair and makeup. 10 minutes later, Steph and I emerged confused and looking like bad 80's prositutes. :S lol. Not that our clothes were particularly exposing, but they were 80's in style, we had masses of eyeshadow to match our dresses, and our hair in high ponytails with scrunchies. And ironically enough the movie was called fashion. haha.
Aaron got a lovely suit, but the pants were too short by far, and his shoes were 3 sizes too small. Plus the suit was navy, the shoes brown and the socks were white tennis socks. So he looked as bad as we did.

After all the rush at the start we then spent the rest of the day sitting around waiting (including 2 costume changes). It was excruciatingly boring, no singng or dancing, in the whole day they shot maybe a minute or two of film, and the scene simply involved sitting in a restaurant. And they didn't even want us in there half the time. Still, it'd be interesting to get the movie and look out for our 2 seconds of 80's fashion shame/fame. :) The leads were incredibly attractive, although no-one that I knew.
In the end, I'd never do it again, but it was a good experience, and they fed us lunch, paid for our transport there and to the airport, and paid 500 ruppees for the day.

It was the longest day though, as we got little sleep the night before, working out train/plane drama, got up at 6:45am to get to the shoot, and then got into our hotel in Delhi at 2am the next morning after flight and taxis. Ugh.

Ugh, the tourist muck that is Goa...

tessafb — Fri, 18 Jan 2008 00:42:00 GMT

Ok, that makes it sound like I hate Goa. full stop. Thats a big call, bc its quite a big place, and we didn't see much of it at all. I would definitely love to come back, and go to another beach of my choosing. I think the problem was that our compromise didn't really satisfy me.... :)

Ha, the first downer was that after the A/c train ride there, I developed a massive flu. :( I must be the only person to come to the tropics and get cold ;). That definitely curtailed any plans I had to live it up at the beach...

While I had heard amazing things from travllers about beaches in the south, and had my heart set on them, Aaron really wanted to see forts, which were closer to the beaches up north. Excited to have his input to the planning, I agreed to let him choose the beach. We went to Anjuna in the end, a very touristy stretch in the north.

Full of tourists, what was a small fishing village has been swamped in the Tsumani of western muck, and literally consists of only hotels, stalls selling tourist souveneirs and western restaurants. It was definitely a change from the India we had been travelling in so far. The beaches here are not white, but a black volcanic snady colour, without a tree or a skerric of shade to be scavenged. The only way to sit in a patch of shade is to hire a beach chair owned by the beachside restaurants and shops. The second charge for sitting is the literally constant harrassment of waves of persistant beach vendors to whom the word "no" does not exist.

On the upside, we met a lovely Aussie guy called Brock who was travelling on his own, and teamed up with him for all of our time in Goa. I also really like getting up early and going for walks on the beach by myself before any other westerners were awake. It was like India had reclaimed her land - the sea had washed away the rubbish, no beach chairs were yet set up, and all the town cows come down to chew the fat/cud with eachother. :) Its funny, although they are not owned by anyone, they still gather and parade up and down the beach in a herd - social beasts. In a way its almost an apt metaphor for the foreigners here, who come to India to experience another culture, and then desire to congregrate just with other foreigners and eat Western food here in Anjuna.

Funnily enough, the bad vibe I had about the beach was confirmed on the last day there. I got bitten by one of the beach dogs that roam wild in packs! Yes, the developing world wants me to get rabies! :) He ran up from behind and grabbed my thigh, but luckily no well enough to cut through my pants. He then went for my foot as I shook him off and yelled, managing to only give me a small cut. Still it was enough for the Indians to freak out, and in hospital afterwards i was offered every drug under the sun :)

Also on the last day, poor Steph and Aaron got severely violent gastro from (ahem) both ends, and I was up well into the wee hours looking after them both...

A not so pleasant end to a holiday at a not so pleasant beach. :)

Quaint Kochi

tessafb — Mon, 14 Jan 2008 00:24:00 GMT

I think I last left you in the Backwaters of Alleppey, cruising along on a houseboat.

After that we headed up to Kochi, the capital of Kerala, and a town built in various suburbs on a number of penninsulas off the mainland. We stayed in the beauiful and historic area of Fort Cochin, full of charmingly decrepit old buildings and crumbling seaside fort. We decided to stay in homestays, which were the most asbolutley charming thing about the town. The rooms were in the familie's homes, they were spotless, and we were showered with family love and mothers bearing down with snack - banana and chai everytime we set foot in the house. I wish we could do this over all of India!

We swiftly grew bored of tiny touristy Fort Cochin, as beautiful as it was, and while Aaron went to a maritime museum, Steph and I wandered out into the surrounding suburbs of Jewtown. While our intent was to walk the 2.5km to the old Dutch Palace, we ended up arriving 5 minuted after it had closed, because our walk was so entertaining. I could spend the entire trip walking around towns - i think you see so much more, and meet so many more people! On our journey we passed many old spice, tea and perfumed oil shops, and enjoyed the fragrant aromas and bold exciting colours of the unpacked spices. We passed local schools where the children clung to the fence to wave and yell to us, and through pockets of Hindu, Muslim and Christian communities breathing down eachothers necks.

Along the way, in seemingly random spots were dotted little art galleries and cafes with sitar music, where we sat to sample various types of masala chai (spice tea) and chat to the artists. The Indian art, at least here in Kerala, all seems very surrealist and we met one artist, Victoria, who made very feminine works reminiscent of Frida Kahlo. We loved them, and I just lament the fact that I could only buy postcards, not canvases.

What a beautiful, quaint and fragrant city...

Gallery: India photos

tessafb — Fri, 11 Jan 2008 22:25:00 GMT

Houseboats for spoiled westerners

tessafb — Fri, 11 Jan 2008 00:33:00 GMT

Ok, so maybe the title is too cynical, but this may have been the most expensive experience we will have in India. Not that that is bad, but I did experience pangs of guilt as our boat swept past old ladies beating washing on the shore, and skinny skinny fishermen in dugout coconut canoes... :oS

After the ashram, we hopped on another boat full of white people showing too much flesh, and heading to an overnight stay in the lovely canal filled town of Alleppey, the centre of the 'venice of India' claims. Early the next day, after being held up by marches and (strictly non-violent mum!)protests about the communist government, we boarded our own little slice of Kerala, or as they call it, God's own country (hmm, think i've heard that before). Interestingly, the protests continued even, on the water, as we were passed along the way by a boat proclaiming loud slogans in Mallayalam. I found out later, that most of the people in the large protests probably didn't even support that party, as in India they really do have rent-a-crowds for demonstrations and protests. :)

The boat itself was pure luxury compared to what we have been used to, and came equipped with a three man crew (one for each of us!?) who were very friendly and enthusiastic, if lacking in language skills a little. The captain, however, clearly liked to establish that he was a captain, honking his little horn every few minutes, even if ther was no other vessel in sight. Backwater canal rage perhaps?

Withh very little to do (which I found very hard), we contented ourselves with stuffing our faces with delicious food, playing many many games of cards and waving to little children on the banks. It was a very idyllic experience (despite the 6million other tourists on houseboats around us), but one i think Steph enjoyed more than Aaron and I, as she is much better at relaxing and doing nothing. I had a great time, but am thoroughly boated out, and ready to move on to more active adventures (that hopefully involve less mossies :)

Much love from India! Shanti

Hugging mother ashram - cult, spiritual guru or devoted humanitarian?

tessafb — Thu, 10 Jan 2008 00:03:00 GMT

Ah, so the hugging mother ashram. What a different environment to the last, quiet, spiritual uplifting Sri Aurobindo stay. Not that this was not intense, great and interesting... far from it.

The first sight we glimpsed from the boat were soaring pink highrises that we were shocked to learn were the buildings of the ashram. Not quite the wooden shack with dirt floors of India fantasy. We stepped off the boat beneath a huge white bridge (built by Amma - the hugging mother - to allow evacuation in the case of the next tsunami) and into topsy turvy Alice through the looking glass world. The complex was huge and confusing, and we wandered for a while looking lost, until coming to a large pink temple topped by a Krishna statue and surrounded by hundreds of Indians and westerners in white outfits (saris, scarves, lunghis, shirts, pants - everything was spotlessly white). The white outfits stood out clearly against the pink buildings (we later discovered that all of them were pink). No-one paid the slightest attention to us, until another relativley recent arrival directed us up many flights of stairs to be registered at the foreign office.

After filling in our forms (the first so far to ask about mental illnesses!?), we found out that we were lucky enough to have been allocated a room rather than a dorm, as the man behind the counter assumed that we were a, umm, how to put it, romatically involved trio. :)

The room was spartan, but spotlessly clean, what you would expect from an ashram, with slim mats to sleep on and one rug for sitting on the floor when the beds were not spread out. While Steph and I went for the free vegitarian lunch in the huge hall, Aaron busied himself feeling like a fish out of water (poor boy) and did perimeter scans, refused to leave his bags and to take off his shoes in case someone stole them.

Walking around later, we discovered the sheer size of the place - it houses 3000 devotees, and almost this number again in westerners passing through. Oddly enough, westerners, particularly young blond females, seemed to outnumber the Indians, and while some were amazing, lovely people, others we spoke too seemed slightly, umm, fervent. The place also has an ayurvedic college, dining and concert halls, three cafes, juice bars, holisitc health centres, many different shops and recreation centres.

Maybe it was the influence of the ashram, or just the tiredness of travel, I had a really emotionally up a down day, from feeling like bawling my eyes out, lonely and sad, to experiencing an almost trance like state when listening to the devotional concert given by Amma and her musicians after dinner. Even sitting in the temple was enough to put me in a state of deep relaxation, rather like what I experience after a particularly rewarding mediation session.

The next day, before leaving, we attended darshan, where we recieved the blessing of Amma in the form of a hug. This was, as with everything else intensly confusing, and we had to see about 5 or 6 peopl just to organise a place in line. Once in line, we waited for about 2 hours, but had a good view of other people getting blessings, and for many it seemed to be an overwhelming expereince. Some cried, others came away beaming, scores sat and prostated themselves at her feet. When it came to my turn however, I can't say that I had an enlightened moment, or even a very pleasant time. Followers surrounding and carefully controlling the expeience made us kneel, and before I knew it, it was shoved into Amma, who pushed my head into her breast and held i there while she conducted a conversation over mny head in Mallayalam. Finally, she let me up after turning my head, intensly crooning "my daughter, my daughter, my daughter" and shoving a lolly into my hand. Sorry devotees, i think I'd prefer a hug from my mum any old day!

As we left, I realised that while I liked the vibe of the place, and could live there for a while if I had something to do (ie study ayurveda), Amma was not a woman who illuminated the path to god for me. I think that instead, she is an incredible humanitarian, who has built schools, houses for the homeless, started unis and free hospitals, among many many other things. Many people are worshipped for less. Plus, she makes great music, and who can fault the power of that :)

Backwaters of Kerala

tessafb — Wed, 9 Jan 2008 23:01:00 GMT

Well, Trivandrum was a little boring, so I'll spare you the details of our long rambles around the zoo with the Indian bourgeousise (apparently its quite the thing to do on a long hot Sunday!).

We left quite rapidly for Kollam to begin our real mission in Kerala - exploring the backwaters... For a fair section, the coast is intersected by a river delta (I think), which has lead to many canals, inlets and streams a fair way inland. This part of the region is known as the venice of India, as lives happen along the river - most people are fishermen and women, and everyday we saw kids being paddled to and from school along the canals, no cars required. As Steph had her heart set on it, we shelled out what seemed to be an exorbitant amount (in reality only about $85 ea) for a tour package that included two days on tourist cruise boats, three nights accomodation (one in an ashram, and one on a houseboat) and most meals. It'll probaly be the most expensive thing we do here, but it was more than worth it...

The backwaters are beautiful, thick with lillies and a lotus flowers. It really is just like a series of roads, with boats cruising up and down all day. Lush palm saturated jungle creeps right to the waters edge, dotted with tiny houses and the giant chinese fishing nets that are the unofficial symbol of the state.

I had a bit of reverse culture shock getting on the tourist boat though - I hadn't seen any other white people since we arrived, and now the place was choked with them! Indications are that from here on in the route gets clogged with 'goras' along with the inevitable rise in prices, touts and hassle. :) What has amazed me most about the other travellers we have met (mostly very lovely people) is the clothes that the women wear. Short shorts, cleavage bearing singlets and tight outfits prevail. I was almost disgusted by the amount of flesh on display (although the Indian men were loving it!). Surely if you travel to a place it just makes sense to be respectful of their customs and habit of dress?. I'm loving the big floppy salwars :).

If I had culture shock on the boat, Aaron nearly had a heart attack when we reached the ashram. It was a curious, spiritual and thoroughly cringe-worthy experience all at once. To be continued...

Trains, boats and automobiles (buses)

tessafb — Tue, 8 Jan 2008 22:28:00 GMT

Well after a few more days in Maduari experiencing the vareity of sights (the soaring Islamic inspired domes of Sri Meenaski palace and the bloodstained Dhoti Ghandi was assassinated in were fascinating) we decided to head off into the communist state of Kerala. Kerala is apparently the only place in the world to have an elected communist government, and is doing fantastically well for itself. It is the wealthiest state in India (very apparent when you get here), and has a literacy rate of about 97%. If that's communism, I say lets try it!

To get from Madurai into the first destination in Kerala - Trivandrum, we decided to take our first Indian train. We had only managed to book 2nd class seats (the lowest class where you had allocated seats) and were unsure as to what to expect. As was usual in this country, the train was late (Indian time is worse than Darwin time! ;) and the platform of the station filled up really quickly. To get on (especially in our carriage) was insane when the train finally arrived - it was every man, woman, cat dog and goat for themselves to get off or on. Its funny, Indians are such a polite society in many ways, but have no concept of ques (sp?!) or letting someone go ahead of them.

Anyway, 2nd class turned out to be a beautiful experience, full of heaps of friendly and curious Indians (and their children) with lots of questions, smiles, and eagerness to share food and drink (perhaps not quite the most sanitary thing in the world, but pretty heartwarming nonetheless). There was nothing in the way of the windows to block the cool breeze from entering, and we hung out the doors and windows taking in the scenery until it was too dark to see any longer. The only mild hazard of this, was the method of rubbish disposal. In India, waste is not very well managed, and the method of ridding oneself of rubbish on the train is to throw it out the window. We all did very well ducking and weaving old diapers and disposable cups, until poor Steph got a paper coffee cup and most of its contents straight in the face!

After that, deciding it was safer to remain wholely inside the carriage, we amused ourselves by playing with the little kids and observing train life. The great thing was the sheer amount of train vendors roaming up and down with calls of "chai, coppee (coffee), pal (hot milk)". There was also no shortage of deep fried foods like pakoras, chappattis and poori (deep fried rice breads eaten as a sweet).

Aaron let me read his diary so far about the trip, and its funny how many little things he mentions that I just see as normal and haven't mentioned to you guys. Stuff like the dirt roads, no gutter, open sewers, bad smells and congestion. I just don't really notice that stuff about a country anymore. I guess one thing I wasn't expecting that he seems facinated about are the animals in the streets. Not just in the country, but even in big cities, cows, goats, chickens etc just randomly wander main streets along with your usual cats and dogs. Its quite nice actually, to see a Brahmin cow with huge horns pulling a cart along next to a brand new car.

As the train pulled further and further into the night, we got tired and suddenly the hard bench seats didn't seem as fun. Local men had the best idea, as, at a certain point, as if by common unspoken agreement they all jumped up and settled themselves down to sleep on the luggage racks. They were made of hard, cold metal, but at that point in the night, seemed to be a much better option than the chairs below. :)

Finally we made it into Trivandrum

Temple touts and transgresses

tessafb — Mon, 7 Jan 2008 16:53:00 GMT

Well last time i left you was the bus ride to Madurai. It was a slightly frustrating trip (not the first I'm sure), but in the end provided some beautiful moments as we travelled through feilds of rice paddies and palm trees. At dusk I watched the red orb of the sun settle hersef into the watery fields as the call to prayer echoed from far away and the fresh breeze cooled my face. I felt a genuine excitement and contentment to be travelling that I haven't experienced for a very long time.

As we got in rather late, the others slept in for ages the next day (I have a feeling this could be an annoyingly recurrent event), so i spent an hour in early morning meditation to pass the time. Mediation feels different in India, as if within the madness it is easier to settle and travel within. Or maybe I'm just a 'gora' on a bit of a pseudo-spiritual ego trip ;o)

Once we had realised how hard it was to get a train in India, we set off this morning to book, some trains for later in our travels. Lol, booking trains is an example of India at her most pedantic and chaotic. We had to fill in 3 different forms, wait at three different counters, and negotiate the Indian concept of a line, which seems to be a flexible concept depending upon ones own perception of the urgency of your own request.

Unfortunately, either the heat or the doxycycline had conspired to
disagree with my body at this point, and feeling faint and sick to the stomach we retired back to the hotel after booking a flight for the end of our trip. While, I didn't mind if they did their own thing, Steph was lovely enough to insist that she come back too, and i don't think Aaron had much inclination to explore on his own either. SO we chilled for the afternoon, after which I only felt vaguely yukky and we decided to head off for a dusk/evening visit to Sri Meenakshi Temple, the reason we had come to Madurai!

What an experience. We caught sight of the temples soaring gopas (tall gates, intricately decorated with colourful statues of the Gods) streets away, and as the tuk tuk wound through the tiny back alleys on the way, they continued to tantilisingly disappear and reappear in totally different directions. When we reached it, Aaron was told off for his boardies, and not allowed to enter. Lol, its kinda funny because he is usually the one that gets all the respect, deference and opportunities in this country so far. I think it was a little wake-up call that for the first time he couldn't just have what he wanted on the virtues of being a white male. Not that he was upset, far from it!

Anyway, as we were turned away from the temple gates, we were immediatley set upon by touts (surprise surprise) offering 'superb rooftop, sunset views' of the temple. "no rupees no rupees". Steph was immediately cynical, but as Aaron had already loped off on his long legs we had no option but to follow them. The views were, as it turned out, very pretty, and we soaked it up, breathing in the scent of the jasmine pinned in our hair by two tiny old flower sellers.

Just as we were figuring out the best way to negotiate back through the many levels of shop on the way down, and Aaron was preparing to 'get all kung-fu on their arses', we teamed up with an amazing beautiful couple - a brqazilian man and Italian woman, and made our way down with the moral strength of numbers.

Aaron went off to get a lungi (the sarong type skirt the southern men wear), and promising to meet him inside, Steph and I checked our shoes into the locker room and headed inside with the foreign couple to have our first temple experience (finally, this is what I came to India for, not to eat in hotels every day!!). Amazing, beautiful, confusing and enchanting do not even begin to describe it.

The temple at night was far more crowded than expected, which we later found out was because of a festival occuring that day to honour Shiva. We wandered the huge outer complex admiring the intricate carvings and tiny shrines along the way. That is, we did, until I took a photo of two young boys. Suddenly I was at the centre of a HUGE brouhaha, as I was surrounded by what seemed like hundreds of Indians clamouring to have their photo taken with a digital camera. Like many things that are at first charming, quirky and funny, it quickly became a little annoying as I was official photographer for about 20-25 minutes :)

Finally managing to extricate myself, I made it inside the temple, only to be greeted by a chained elephant posing for photos herself. Poor thing. The inner main halllway was pacekd to the rafters with tiny shops selling various types of random useless crap. POstcards, flashing light up pictures of the gods, plastic flowers, tapestry bags and bangles were all just part of the wide array. (no mum, I didn't buy you any, but i will before i leave this country, I promise :)

After visitng the uninspiring 'art' gallery suprisingly lacking in art, and with no sign of Aaron, Steph wanted to get dinner. We were just about to head off when we got talking to a lovely woman about the temple. Before I knew it, we had been talked into 'just looking' at her shop and walking out with a scarf each for 400 rupees. Steph kept saying that we had been ripped off, and I just got this sick feeling in my stomach that redonated through the rest of my body. Its the one thing I hate about travlling in developing nations, is walking away from what i thought was a lovely conversation with someone, only to feel dirty and used. like a cash cow. And i'm so bad at spending $$ anyway! :)

Anyway, given that i was in a bit of a state, I wasn't really paying attention to where we were going. Somehow, after turning through multiple wrong doorways as we moved along with the crowd, we found ourselves in the inner sanctum of the temple, a place reserved for Hindus only. It was an amazingly different world to the garish brashnes of the main hall. The stream of the devout washed us through candlelit corridors and past figures of the gods garlanded with flowers. We wandered, lost, for at leadt 20 minutes before stopping at an alcove where people painted tamil characters in bright yellow onto the walls.

Two besuited security guards started a conversation with us with the inevitable opener "which country?", and proceeded to talk about the cricket at length. Just as we were wondering where on earth the conversation was headed, Steph whipped out her camera and was promptly reprimanded with 'no cameras'. "Hindus only' followed swiftly on the heels of that comment and we were pointed towards the exit. Blushing, abd feeling like naughty schoolgirls we scampered as fast as we could towards the glowing doorway. Oops.

Still sans Aaron, we made our second mistake of the night by hopping onto a cycle rickshaw for the short trip home. While Steph said that it made her feel old world, I spent the entire trip in agonies of guilt, as the poor driver not only had a bad eye, but was so weak and thin he could barely pull the two of us along. I just wanted to get out and push from the back to give him a hand! As soon as we knew where we were we got out, paid him twice the agreed fare and fled into the night. I don't even think he realised.

Another day of Indian faux-pas drew to a close with the discovery of Aaron, who had been sitting in the hotel restaurant eating for the better part of an hour, and had no idea of our misadventures :)

Travel is madness

tessafb — Sat, 5 Jan 2008 20:42:00 GMT

On the next day we tried to get to Madurai. What a balls-up. Because i was feeling a little anal and self-conscious about my pre-planning (the others have done none!), I let aaron figure out how we were going to get there. We ended up travelling the entire day in a skit that would not have been out of place in some cringe worthy british sitcom.... I had wanted to take the night bus, but steph wanted to travel in the day. So under aarons direction we went..

Auto rickshaw to the train station - we had missed the only train to Madurai for the day

Auto rickshaw to the bus station - there was only one bus to Madurai and it was at night

Bus to Villipuram, and hour away

Auto rickshaw to Villipuram train station - we could not get on the train as we had not prebooked at least a day in advance

Auto rickshaw back to Villipuram bus station - we almost missed the bus as no one could tell us when it left or where it left from.

Luckily, we saw it pulling out and ran after it, managing to catch it. I swear they saw us earlier, but we just looked like such a funny sight that they kept driving...

Then the 8 hour bus trip stretched into 10 hours, and i think i ended up giving myself a bladder infection :)

It was a lesson to us all in patience, and an introduction (that would be continued the next day) into Mother India's fickle nature.

Very funny in hindsight!

What is also hilarious is the sight of us and our bags in the Auto rickshaws... These things are tiny, and have been our modes of transport ever since that first taxi. Aaron in 6ft, 4inches and you know how tall Steph (do you know? shes about an inch taller than me) and I are. When you add about 60kilo of bag, it is a wonder that these little things with their two stroke engines manage to move at all... We have developed a very complicated but well rehearsed system of packing ourselves in so that we all fit. Steph and aaron sit in the back with their two big rucksacks between their legs and then mine over their laps. You can just see their faces poking out over the top.

I then perch myself delicately next to the driver on his tiny seat, riding almost side saddle to avoid any unneccessarily familiar contact. :) Its hilarious, I have to get someone to take a photo next time so you can see it. :)

Pondicherry

tessafb — Fri, 4 Jan 2008 20:40:00 GMT

We spent the first part of the evening trudging around like turtles with our massive rucksacs, and meeting "sorry , full" signs at every place. Argh, I was ready to sleep on the street, so long as it meant I could put my bag down. Finally, we were truly blessed when we happened upon the ashram I had wanted to stay in originally. The gods smiled on us, and we were lead to a massive massive room of our own with seperate toilet, shower, living area, and two balconies that faced the sea. For only about $6 ea a night! :) It was so beautifully serene, with the sound of the waves and a beautiful shady garden to sit and write in.

Pondicherry was a lovely little town too, quite unlike what we will see in the rest of India i think... it was full of the vestiges of any french colony - walled gardens and terraced houses. Oh and the colours mum, you would love it - they are all so bright and yet nothing seems garish or mismatched. I can't wait to come to India with you to discover it all again. We can dress in crazily bright Salwars and stand in front of these walls for photos.

Steph was quite pleased with Pondi too, as it meant she could eat French food - crepes and toast for breakfast every morning. I think she's not too keen on curries, the mad girl. As for me, I'm loving the thalis, and spicy food everywhere. The chai is like nothing I've ever had in Australia, although sickeningly sweet (yes, even for me). The vendors look at me like I'm a bit crazy when I ask for it without sugar. On the streets it is constantly bubbling away in huge vats of milk and spices, and comes served in teeny little plastic cups with about 3 spoonfulls of sugar. My only other complaint with the food would be that I want more fruit and veggies (you know me!), but oh well. I figure I can always stock back up on that stuff when I come home.

I've been reading the book, the city of joy while i'm here, and while its making me cry every 3 pages it give such a good insight into the world of those here in this country that struggle to survive. There haven't been too many beggars so far, but I think it will be much worse in the North of India. I have given to a few, but overall just say 'sorry, no' and then ignore them. It makes me feel really heartless and cruel, but I don't really know what else to do. Otherwise it would get too overwhelming.

Upon waking to our second day in Pondi we all looked as though we had gone about 30 rounds in our sleep. As fate would have it, the one downside of an ashram next to the beach was the killer mosquitoes that had savaged us in the night. I slept through it all, but steph and aaron said they tossed and turned all night. Still, the swollen lip and puffy eye was enough to launch me out on a mission to buy candy coloured mosquito nets and odomos insect repellant. Now its like i'm sleeping in a cloud of blue fairy floss..

Holy moly travelling with three people is slow going - we all mess around soo much in the morning. Luckily my mediation is helping me cultivate more patience i think.

Pondicherry passed buy in a haze of heratige walks and lazy afternoons writing on the beach or in the gardens of the ashram. No yoga as yet - the others really don't seem all that keen. :(

We kept seeing amazingly bright and intricate chalk patterns drawn on the pavement in front of houses. I'm not 100% sure, but I think they are to welcome the new year and bring luck and joy to a house. Its a really lovely tradition I think. There is lots about India that I am finding charming, but slighly confusing. On the beach one day I was surrounded by a bunch of bright, giggly Indian girls in saris, who tried to explain to me with a total lack of english why they were pointing. It turned out that my single toe ring was hilarious, as they all had three or more, but I don't know exactly why... any ideas? I'm going to have to put it on the list of confusing India questions..

Arrival in India

tessafb — Thu, 3 Jan 2008 20:37:00 GMT

The airport at Chennai was nowhere near as manic as Steph had lead me to be. I think Chennai is a bit more chilled, cause less tourists come here, and so the entry experience was just like any other developing world country. Actually, I've found that i've settled in really easily, no culture shock (as yet anyway).

The ride into Chennai was funny though - because it was new years, the traffic was mental, and we were stuck in it well into the new year. We hopped into a taxi with two very chatty enthusiastic young men, who preceeded to crank the Bollywood music to almost unbearable levels (this seems very common here - I may have permanent hearing loss by the time I return) :)

The taxis are awesome, actually most of the cars are cool - they are old ambassadors, mercs, astons etc... all old 60's models that they continue to make brand new over here. It means the streets look amazing, but I shudder to think of the carbon emissions :s

Midnight was marked by the sounds of the hysterical girls on the radio shreiking at the top of their lungs..someone gave those girls too much red cordial!

I met Aaron for the first time when I got to the hotel, and I really like him. He's an affable knockabout Aussie country boy, very enthusiastic about being overseas for the first time and making heaps of new Indian friends. We went for a brief walk around the streets that night, but not much was happening, so we gave in and retired to bed. Thank god - I was exhausted!

We spent the next morning just running around looking for salwars and drugs to buy - I managed to get one nice one and one ok one, so hopefully we can pick more up along the way. They kept showing us these massive tents of things, which I wasn't too keen on. The ones I got are still really loose, but at least i'm not going to have a train trailing on the ground behind me :)

Chennai was quite a frustrating, Industrial kinda city, not particularly interesting to tourists, and not all that friendly either, so we decided to hightail it outta there that afternoon. After a bladder testing four hour bus ride (oh, how little did I know of what was to come) we arrive in Pondicherry. Now Pondi was cool.