I am truly sorry for my lack of updates recently. There were a combination of thing that made it either uninteresting or impossible to write or post. One problem is the already mentioned lack of computer (posting from the phone isnt all that awesome), then there was the whole broken foot thing which meant a lot of reprioritizing, a lack of reliable internet access haunted us since Goa and now here in Delhi, and in addition I have been having "issues" after I ran into some bad food on Saturday, taking a lot of time and energy I would rather have spent elsewhere... did get around to read several books at least. Kindle ftw.
Our flight back to Frankfurt is scheduled for a ~13:30 departure with a 9 hour flight time giving us an ETA of ca. 18:00 in Germany. A taxi should be here around 9 in the morning so we get to the airport in good time.
A tourist information/travel agency employee came by a short while ago to pay back some of our outlays on transport that never came to be, out of the ca. Rs4200 we paid out we got 2000 in cash from his own pocket, the rest the company will reimburse us via bank transfer. It seems that most of our problems were due to rotten eggs in the basket, the Kochi driver was fired for ignoring several customers and the leader of the office here in Delhi (whom we dealt with initially) ran away with Rs700,000 a couple of weeks ago and caused them all sorts of problems... if what they told us was indeed true, I found it commendable of them to show up at our hotel in the middle of the night to settle the issues. Susanne remains less impressed. Still, even with the minor bumps in the road, we have had an awesome experience here and we are already looking for new areas of this little dirtball to explore.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
The good life
As of writing this, I am comfortably seated in a rocking chair on our "beach" hut's veranda. On the table next to me there is an almost empty 200ml glass bottle of coke - icey cold as it spent the night in the minibar - and my Desire Z running Spotify. Not a cloud in sight, and I'd guestimate mid 30's as far as the temperature is concerned. There is a hint of wind, just enough to make it nicer to sit outside than inside under the roof-mounted fan running at max. Mentioning that, I should also note that this is the first of these we've dared running flat out, the others seem about to obliterate themselves at half speed already as they are neither fastened or balanced. Makes for an interesting thrill at least.
The day started quite differently though; the first alarm went off at 0600. At that time of day there is no sun nor heat; if anything it was rather cold getting out of bed. By 0730 our preordered autorikshaw was standing outside, ready to drive us down to the beach. It is but 300 meters away, but with Susanne's bad foot it was worth the Rs100 (seems to be the default price for any kind of tuktuk/taxi ride around here). Once at the beach we headed for the south end, met up with a friend we met at a party a couple of nights ago and soon after an outrigger boat came crawling onto the sand. Carrying Sue aboard so as not to get her support bandage wet, we were soon headed out of the shallows and searching for dolphins. Meeting up with a couple of similar boats a kilometre or so out, we soon spotted several of them. They were illusive though, and only allowed us short glimpses every now and then. I guess they were just tired of tourists and wanted to have their breakfast in peace. We then went north to "Butterfly Beach" which looks like a butterfly from above, then further north to Honeymoon Beach. They are both very small beaches, literally only a stone-throw wide. Making a lazy curve back towards our beach the short journey came to an end roughly 1 hour 10 minutes after we departed. A really nice way to start the morning, and as always, the fresh ocean air makes for a great appetite.
We found ourselves at the bottom of the rickety walkway leading up to the cliffside restaurant we visited on Saturday for a sunset drink, and our newfound friend joined us for breakfast. She went for a curd(yoghurt)/fruit/müsli-bowl while Susanne and I went for the special breakfast of the establishment; grilled mushrooms and tomatoes, baked beans, eggs to order, toast, butter, marmelade, fresh juice and tea or coffee. I opted out of the tomatoes and Sue skipped the butter and the eggs - mine were scrambled. Black tea for both of us (I really have to get around to write about the whole tea-thing) and orange juice all 'round. I'm starting to feel better after my run-in with some bad food on Saturday (probably the "lasagne" at the same place, or the wraps at the party) and food tasted great after a complete lack of interest in food for a day.
Our friend, on a break from her involvement with MSF, headed off to change place of residence to a beach further south - we are invited to have dinner with her there later - and we slowly made our way up the beach again, looking into some of the shops along the palmline.
[*soaks a cloth with cold water for Susanne, who is quite occupied with melting in the heat, and brings another Coke from the minibar before sitting down again. Leatherman Wave bottle-opener ftw!]
Not finding anything interesting in the shops - they really should branch out and specialize a little, they all sell exactly the same stuff - we ended at a beachfront bar for refreshments. Susanne got herself some water and a pastaplatter, while I got a "coke" (pepsi) and a pancake. I was getting a little restless as I had promised to bring the dishes from last night back across the street "in the morning" as well as paying for the food, and although everything here is running on Goa time, I'd still like having my ends covered and maintain a good standing with the local waterholes.
[* War - Lowrider on the phone's speaker, with a nice added sound effect of empty coke bottle adding to the experience. Next up: Moby - Flower. Just noticed that the power (and internet) is gone again. It will be back at some point. And gone again a little later.]
Once back "home" again, after delivering the dishes, picking up new supplies of Coke for the minibar and delivering a photocopy of my passport for the reception, I sank back into the nice rocking chair I mentioned earlier and the end of this little blog entry becomes the beginning.
[ Ozzy Osbourne - Crazy train played through coke bottle is clearly a step up]
Oh, right. Tea. I never liked tea until we were seated for a showing of various cloth items in Mandawa. I was served a home-brewed black tea with sugar. I've been hooked since, although none have come close so far as all the rest were disappointingly teabag-based. I will have to inspect my mothers collection of exotic teas when I get home - or perhaps rather our gourmet-store's offerings of the same.
The day started quite differently though; the first alarm went off at 0600. At that time of day there is no sun nor heat; if anything it was rather cold getting out of bed. By 0730 our preordered autorikshaw was standing outside, ready to drive us down to the beach. It is but 300 meters away, but with Susanne's bad foot it was worth the Rs100 (seems to be the default price for any kind of tuktuk/taxi ride around here). Once at the beach we headed for the south end, met up with a friend we met at a party a couple of nights ago and soon after an outrigger boat came crawling onto the sand. Carrying Sue aboard so as not to get her support bandage wet, we were soon headed out of the shallows and searching for dolphins. Meeting up with a couple of similar boats a kilometre or so out, we soon spotted several of them. They were illusive though, and only allowed us short glimpses every now and then. I guess they were just tired of tourists and wanted to have their breakfast in peace. We then went north to "Butterfly Beach" which looks like a butterfly from above, then further north to Honeymoon Beach. They are both very small beaches, literally only a stone-throw wide. Making a lazy curve back towards our beach the short journey came to an end roughly 1 hour 10 minutes after we departed. A really nice way to start the morning, and as always, the fresh ocean air makes for a great appetite.
We found ourselves at the bottom of the rickety walkway leading up to the cliffside restaurant we visited on Saturday for a sunset drink, and our newfound friend joined us for breakfast. She went for a curd(yoghurt)/fruit/müsli-bowl while Susanne and I went for the special breakfast of the establishment; grilled mushrooms and tomatoes, baked beans, eggs to order, toast, butter, marmelade, fresh juice and tea or coffee. I opted out of the tomatoes and Sue skipped the butter and the eggs - mine were scrambled. Black tea for both of us (I really have to get around to write about the whole tea-thing) and orange juice all 'round. I'm starting to feel better after my run-in with some bad food on Saturday (probably the "lasagne" at the same place, or the wraps at the party) and food tasted great after a complete lack of interest in food for a day.
Our friend, on a break from her involvement with MSF, headed off to change place of residence to a beach further south - we are invited to have dinner with her there later - and we slowly made our way up the beach again, looking into some of the shops along the palmline.
[*soaks a cloth with cold water for Susanne, who is quite occupied with melting in the heat, and brings another Coke from the minibar before sitting down again. Leatherman Wave bottle-opener ftw!]
Not finding anything interesting in the shops - they really should branch out and specialize a little, they all sell exactly the same stuff - we ended at a beachfront bar for refreshments. Susanne got herself some water and a pastaplatter, while I got a "coke" (pepsi) and a pancake. I was getting a little restless as I had promised to bring the dishes from last night back across the street "in the morning" as well as paying for the food, and although everything here is running on Goa time, I'd still like having my ends covered and maintain a good standing with the local waterholes.
[* War - Lowrider on the phone's speaker, with a nice added sound effect of empty coke bottle adding to the experience. Next up: Moby - Flower. Just noticed that the power (and internet) is gone again. It will be back at some point. And gone again a little later.]
Once back "home" again, after delivering the dishes, picking up new supplies of Coke for the minibar and delivering a photocopy of my passport for the reception, I sank back into the nice rocking chair I mentioned earlier and the end of this little blog entry becomes the beginning.
[ Ozzy Osbourne - Crazy train played through coke bottle is clearly a step up]
Oh, right. Tea. I never liked tea until we were seated for a showing of various cloth items in Mandawa. I was served a home-brewed black tea with sugar. I've been hooked since, although none have come close so far as all the rest were disappointingly teabag-based. I will have to inspect my mothers collection of exotic teas when I get home - or perhaps rather our gourmet-store's offerings of the same.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Top Dog
After having finished up at the cybercafe, we slowly made our way back home. After having parked Susanne in a chair on our veranda I went over to the restaurant next door. Once I had explained our predicament I was sent off with a menu so Sue could have a look at it. Soon I was back in the restaurant and gave my order. A green salad washed in bottled water and a few toast for her, chicken tikka masala, rice and garlic naan bread for me. A platter of veg. spring rolls would form our dessert and a nice cold bottle of mineral water would keep us hydrated. It was not overly warm anymore as the sun set by the time I was getting the Eee in my last entry, but we still need a lot of water/liquids. A short while later our food started arriving on our veranda - luxury! A beach hut with room service...
I was happy I had specified my masala as "mild" - I wouldn't want to try "medium". Still, with the right mixture of rice and naan it became just perfect. Om nom. Lady had taken her place by our feet and scored some naan and the rest of the rice. Neither her nor Schnautze (he has a funny snout, Lady's black friend) or Oliver as Susanne calls him, wanted salad. I've heard that beggars cant be choosers, it does not seem to apply here. The dogs here are infinitely more well behaved than the average European family dog though, they either lay down or loiter around in the background until something eatable comes their way. Then they eat, then they vanish into the shadows again. No beady eyes, no sounds. Schnautze once "paw"'ed Sue, but that was to get cuddled, not to get food.
Once we had eaten it was quite late and we were getting tired. I walked back to the restaurant with the dishes. They had opened a tab for me, seeing as we would probably use them quite a bit the next days, which I found nice of them. After relaxing a bit outside with a book I just bought via the Kindle, I joined Sue in bed and were asleep a few breaking waves later.
Today started like any other day here; slow. I have no idea what time it was, but the sun was lazily poking through all the gaps in our hut. I would guess around noon, as our hut is roughly facing west into the Arabian sea and the sun was hitting our southern wall straight on. Slowly leaving bed I made my way outside to the veranda and sat down with the new book. Again by Clive Cussler, this one is the second in the Dirk Pitt/NUMA files series. Can't remember the title now though. It did start off in a great way, having an amphibian WWII PBY Catalina patrol/bomber doing a loop within a few pages, dogfighting an A-3 Albatross WWI figther bi-plane. Books like that are hard to put down. Oliver was dozing off in the shadow close by since I got up until far into the afternoon.
Susanne joined me outside at some point and we figured it was time for breakfast. She opted for the same green salad again with a few toast on the side, I would find something there I thought. Once in the restaurant I briefly explained our situation to the new guy in the bar and sure enough, he had been informed. I chose an English breakfast with orange juice and black tea - but no fried tomatoes. A chapter later the food arrived, my tomatoes being replaced by some sort of sausage. The baked beans were a hint better than those I know from our side of the globe, the egg was nice and firm and the sausage completed the meal. Sue's toast never arrived though, so I raided the kitchen for some. Once back I thought I heard a faint bark of something small under the hut next to ours, I had already been assuming that Lady had recently given birth, and she was usually coming out from the side of that cabin. It would make her tired appearance make more sense, and her breasts seemed unusually swollen. She made off with a larger ration of food than before. I delivered the dishes and went back into my book until Susanne set her mind on cakes. We had seen a German bakery the other day, so she sent me off to find out what they had. I took pictures of their selection and brought a choko croissant and a cinnamon roll for myself. Once I was back, Sue examined my photodocumentation and ordered some cake I cannot remember right now. Off I went again, getting said cake, two bottles of water and a little further down the road a cocoa nut with its top cut off and a straw inserted - Susanne had seen it earlier and wanted one since. Back at our cabin I once again returned to my book while Sue enjoyed cake and nut - though the latter had a somewhat woody taste she said.
The day slowly passed like this, I was mostly reading my book while trying not to get sunburned, Susanne was snoozing or peoplewatching
It was getting a little warm for Susanne, sitting directly in the sun, so she retreated to the shadowy confines of the bed. I joined her shortly for a mid-day snooze. I was woken up by fierce barking and shouting. As anyone who have spent any amount of time with dogs will know, their bark is as distinct as the voice of a human - something or somehow had upset Lady. Moments later I was standing out in the sand in my socks and hastily put on clothes and realised we would have a problem.
The hut sheltering the puppies had been occupied until yesterday. Now the new guests had arrived. The problem was that the third guest was a male Spaniel. This did NOT sit well with the extremely protective mother (not that ANY of the beach dogs here would take lightly to a strange dog invading their territory, they are fiercely territorial even without puppies). Oliver was also adding his opinion to the matter, and the Spaniel and its humans were not very amused. The two Dutch ladies that care for Lady was also coming around to see what was up. I managed to wrangle the frothing furry fourlegged mother a few meters away from the cabin, blocking her access to the new dog but not her puppies. She trusts me and the ladies so handling her was just a matter of making sure teeth did not meet flesh unintentionally. She is a medium sized dog, but again the lack of energy was apparent as she was nowhere near as strong as Solo, the dog I live with in Norway. It became glaringly apparent that this would not work out however, as she would come in for an attack run ever time the poor confused Spaniel would as much as look outside. The ladies and I decided that the only thing that might help was to move the puppies, and once I had my sandals on we found a nice place further down the row of huts and made it just right for a little furry family. Again, as Lady trusts us, moving the puppies was no problem. She just followed us as we carried the little furballs over to their new hive. It did take some time for her to settle in, but with enough biscuits and comfort it seemed that our shelter was accepted.
While it lessened her aggression temporarily it did not make it any safer for the Spaniel to venture out of the hut. I was still on my way back to our hut as she dived for the brown intruder. The Spaniel on his side had no sense of survival what so ever and was just seeking refuge in the arms of the human male - not quite out of reach of Lady. Again I had to handle the very much upset dog, but again with great care and no problems. The temporary solution was a big stick so that the newcomers could keep Lady at a safe distance, she stays a good few meters away from it. Once they were out of her territory it was no longer a problem.
I could go back to bed and back to my book. Sue was feeling a little down from her sudden decrease in mobility, her arms are aching from having to carry her weight, same with the other leg. After getting a little sleep things were looking up though, and we walked down the beach to a nice restaurant for a light snack. Susanne got a vegeburger and I finally got around to try a "Sizzler" - a dish that's served so hot that its sizzling as it arrives. We were both full long before our plates were empty. I also had a roughly mixed but still nice Long Island to the food - no Fenny though, so I was still fine. As I was eating, a smaller dog came and laid down under my chair. It was the softest and cutest and warmest little dog ever! Jackal, the restaurant people called her. As we asked for the bill I ordered a plain roti, a form of bread. As it arrived, Jackal got a bite. Apparently, that's all it takes to buy a friend here. He duly followed us all the way home. The jungle drums here have quite the broadband connection, and suddenly there were 3 more dogs following us, in addition to Oliver who had been lurking around the restaurant since before we arrived. The other dogs vanished before we got home, however. Parking Jackal and Susanne at the beach hut, I went over to Lady's new nest and delivered the bread. She was quite happy about it!
I am not sure what is wrong with Jackal, but her "fight or flight" instincts are not turned on. As I was on my way back Lady zoomed past me, with Oliver flanking her off in the shadow. They converged on Jackal just outside the door of the hut with the Spaniel in it and made quite the raucous stating their territorial sovereignty. Not accepting their claim, however, the outsized and outteethed little Jackal just got the two frenzied dogs even more annoyed and I had to bail her out of there. She decided that she was safe behind me, and I had a little work fending off two dogs hellbent on making sure this impostor was summarily expelled from their land or executed on the spot. I would have nothing of either and shooed them off in a calm but firm manner. Accepting defeat for the time being they retreated. Lady would still come around every so often to see if she could get between me and Jackal, but he was quite safe under my chair. It became apparent that this would not work out over the night however, as Susanne had banned any dogs from entering the hut. I decided to stay outside with Jackal for some time (reading my book) to see if things calmed down, but either Lady or Oliver would keep coming back to see if Jackal was out in the open.
Getting tired, I waited for the two to chase off after another beach dog going north and took Jackal for a walk south across the beach. Taking the scenic route, I waited until I could no longer see I'm behind me, before I turned up a backalley and took the street home. Agonda is the first place I would even contemplate going outside alone at night here in India, much less cross through dark back alleys. Here, however, it is hardly worth a second thought. I did have my trusty MagLite 3D hanging from my belt just in case, anyway. It looks imposing enough to scare away most people, and I guess it could be used both defensively and offensively if needed - though I'd much rather not find out. I met but one person on my walk and we exchanged a pleasant "good night" before wandering off in different directions. I joined up with a large cow walking my way and we had a nice conversation before I had to turn off for our huts. By the time I was back it was already well past midnight and I got ready and beded as fast as I could before firing up my Eee to write a little.
Dogs and cows are not the only animals we encounter here, though. We have house pets too. First one we saw in here was a small cockroach, a cute one at that. Then there was the spider, a larger one covered in brown fluff. Not large enough to be a grown tarantula or anything though. While normally not arachnophobic, I do not know which spiders here are poisonous or not, so I decided to keep a healthy distance as I tried to catch and evict it. It proved to be an exercises in futility as spiders here are far faster and smarter than the Norwegian ones. In the end it simply ran over the wall and vanished out under the ceiling. Then there was the mouse. Susanne was in the bathroom as the told me she had seen one, and just as I turned around I saw it sneak around the corner. It's brown and about medium mouse size I guess. I am also guessing/hoping that it is this little creature that playing "tug" with me as I write this. Every now and then there will be a tug in the mosquito netting and it vanishes down between the wall and the bed. I pull it back up again. A few minutes later, and it is pulled down again. It is getting slightly unnerving, and I think Ill turn on the roof lights before going to bed. I will also check out the undefinable sounds coming from the bathroom first.
Still, even with all the strange animals here, I really like this place. While the rest of India has been an amazing journey both historically and culturally, Agonda is the first place I could have easily called "home" for a few months. Even if I would have like a hut with less holes then. Now off to find my MagLite before I fall asleep...
I was happy I had specified my masala as "mild" - I wouldn't want to try "medium". Still, with the right mixture of rice and naan it became just perfect. Om nom. Lady had taken her place by our feet and scored some naan and the rest of the rice. Neither her nor Schnautze (he has a funny snout, Lady's black friend) or Oliver as Susanne calls him, wanted salad. I've heard that beggars cant be choosers, it does not seem to apply here. The dogs here are infinitely more well behaved than the average European family dog though, they either lay down or loiter around in the background until something eatable comes their way. Then they eat, then they vanish into the shadows again. No beady eyes, no sounds. Schnautze once "paw"'ed Sue, but that was to get cuddled, not to get food.
Once we had eaten it was quite late and we were getting tired. I walked back to the restaurant with the dishes. They had opened a tab for me, seeing as we would probably use them quite a bit the next days, which I found nice of them. After relaxing a bit outside with a book I just bought via the Kindle, I joined Sue in bed and were asleep a few breaking waves later.
Today started like any other day here; slow. I have no idea what time it was, but the sun was lazily poking through all the gaps in our hut. I would guess around noon, as our hut is roughly facing west into the Arabian sea and the sun was hitting our southern wall straight on. Slowly leaving bed I made my way outside to the veranda and sat down with the new book. Again by Clive Cussler, this one is the second in the Dirk Pitt/NUMA files series. Can't remember the title now though. It did start off in a great way, having an amphibian WWII PBY Catalina patrol/bomber doing a loop within a few pages, dogfighting an A-3 Albatross WWI figther bi-plane. Books like that are hard to put down. Oliver was dozing off in the shadow close by since I got up until far into the afternoon.
Susanne joined me outside at some point and we figured it was time for breakfast. She opted for the same green salad again with a few toast on the side, I would find something there I thought. Once in the restaurant I briefly explained our situation to the new guy in the bar and sure enough, he had been informed. I chose an English breakfast with orange juice and black tea - but no fried tomatoes. A chapter later the food arrived, my tomatoes being replaced by some sort of sausage. The baked beans were a hint better than those I know from our side of the globe, the egg was nice and firm and the sausage completed the meal. Sue's toast never arrived though, so I raided the kitchen for some. Once back I thought I heard a faint bark of something small under the hut next to ours, I had already been assuming that Lady had recently given birth, and she was usually coming out from the side of that cabin. It would make her tired appearance make more sense, and her breasts seemed unusually swollen. She made off with a larger ration of food than before. I delivered the dishes and went back into my book until Susanne set her mind on cakes. We had seen a German bakery the other day, so she sent me off to find out what they had. I took pictures of their selection and brought a choko croissant and a cinnamon roll for myself. Once I was back, Sue examined my photodocumentation and ordered some cake I cannot remember right now. Off I went again, getting said cake, two bottles of water and a little further down the road a cocoa nut with its top cut off and a straw inserted - Susanne had seen it earlier and wanted one since. Back at our cabin I once again returned to my book while Sue enjoyed cake and nut - though the latter had a somewhat woody taste she said.
The day slowly passed like this, I was mostly reading my book while trying not to get sunburned, Susanne was snoozing or peoplewatching
It was getting a little warm for Susanne, sitting directly in the sun, so she retreated to the shadowy confines of the bed. I joined her shortly for a mid-day snooze. I was woken up by fierce barking and shouting. As anyone who have spent any amount of time with dogs will know, their bark is as distinct as the voice of a human - something or somehow had upset Lady. Moments later I was standing out in the sand in my socks and hastily put on clothes and realised we would have a problem.
The hut sheltering the puppies had been occupied until yesterday. Now the new guests had arrived. The problem was that the third guest was a male Spaniel. This did NOT sit well with the extremely protective mother (not that ANY of the beach dogs here would take lightly to a strange dog invading their territory, they are fiercely territorial even without puppies). Oliver was also adding his opinion to the matter, and the Spaniel and its humans were not very amused. The two Dutch ladies that care for Lady was also coming around to see what was up. I managed to wrangle the frothing furry fourlegged mother a few meters away from the cabin, blocking her access to the new dog but not her puppies. She trusts me and the ladies so handling her was just a matter of making sure teeth did not meet flesh unintentionally. She is a medium sized dog, but again the lack of energy was apparent as she was nowhere near as strong as Solo, the dog I live with in Norway. It became glaringly apparent that this would not work out however, as she would come in for an attack run ever time the poor confused Spaniel would as much as look outside. The ladies and I decided that the only thing that might help was to move the puppies, and once I had my sandals on we found a nice place further down the row of huts and made it just right for a little furry family. Again, as Lady trusts us, moving the puppies was no problem. She just followed us as we carried the little furballs over to their new hive. It did take some time for her to settle in, but with enough biscuits and comfort it seemed that our shelter was accepted.
While it lessened her aggression temporarily it did not make it any safer for the Spaniel to venture out of the hut. I was still on my way back to our hut as she dived for the brown intruder. The Spaniel on his side had no sense of survival what so ever and was just seeking refuge in the arms of the human male - not quite out of reach of Lady. Again I had to handle the very much upset dog, but again with great care and no problems. The temporary solution was a big stick so that the newcomers could keep Lady at a safe distance, she stays a good few meters away from it. Once they were out of her territory it was no longer a problem.
I could go back to bed and back to my book. Sue was feeling a little down from her sudden decrease in mobility, her arms are aching from having to carry her weight, same with the other leg. After getting a little sleep things were looking up though, and we walked down the beach to a nice restaurant for a light snack. Susanne got a vegeburger and I finally got around to try a "Sizzler" - a dish that's served so hot that its sizzling as it arrives. We were both full long before our plates were empty. I also had a roughly mixed but still nice Long Island to the food - no Fenny though, so I was still fine. As I was eating, a smaller dog came and laid down under my chair. It was the softest and cutest and warmest little dog ever! Jackal, the restaurant people called her. As we asked for the bill I ordered a plain roti, a form of bread. As it arrived, Jackal got a bite. Apparently, that's all it takes to buy a friend here. He duly followed us all the way home. The jungle drums here have quite the broadband connection, and suddenly there were 3 more dogs following us, in addition to Oliver who had been lurking around the restaurant since before we arrived. The other dogs vanished before we got home, however. Parking Jackal and Susanne at the beach hut, I went over to Lady's new nest and delivered the bread. She was quite happy about it!
I am not sure what is wrong with Jackal, but her "fight or flight" instincts are not turned on. As I was on my way back Lady zoomed past me, with Oliver flanking her off in the shadow. They converged on Jackal just outside the door of the hut with the Spaniel in it and made quite the raucous stating their territorial sovereignty. Not accepting their claim, however, the outsized and outteethed little Jackal just got the two frenzied dogs even more annoyed and I had to bail her out of there. She decided that she was safe behind me, and I had a little work fending off two dogs hellbent on making sure this impostor was summarily expelled from their land or executed on the spot. I would have nothing of either and shooed them off in a calm but firm manner. Accepting defeat for the time being they retreated. Lady would still come around every so often to see if she could get between me and Jackal, but he was quite safe under my chair. It became apparent that this would not work out over the night however, as Susanne had banned any dogs from entering the hut. I decided to stay outside with Jackal for some time (reading my book) to see if things calmed down, but either Lady or Oliver would keep coming back to see if Jackal was out in the open.
Getting tired, I waited for the two to chase off after another beach dog going north and took Jackal for a walk south across the beach. Taking the scenic route, I waited until I could no longer see I'm behind me, before I turned up a backalley and took the street home. Agonda is the first place I would even contemplate going outside alone at night here in India, much less cross through dark back alleys. Here, however, it is hardly worth a second thought. I did have my trusty MagLite 3D hanging from my belt just in case, anyway. It looks imposing enough to scare away most people, and I guess it could be used both defensively and offensively if needed - though I'd much rather not find out. I met but one person on my walk and we exchanged a pleasant "good night" before wandering off in different directions. I joined up with a large cow walking my way and we had a nice conversation before I had to turn off for our huts. By the time I was back it was already well past midnight and I got ready and beded as fast as I could before firing up my Eee to write a little.
Dogs and cows are not the only animals we encounter here, though. We have house pets too. First one we saw in here was a small cockroach, a cute one at that. Then there was the spider, a larger one covered in brown fluff. Not large enough to be a grown tarantula or anything though. While normally not arachnophobic, I do not know which spiders here are poisonous or not, so I decided to keep a healthy distance as I tried to catch and evict it. It proved to be an exercises in futility as spiders here are far faster and smarter than the Norwegian ones. In the end it simply ran over the wall and vanished out under the ceiling. Then there was the mouse. Susanne was in the bathroom as the told me she had seen one, and just as I turned around I saw it sneak around the corner. It's brown and about medium mouse size I guess. I am also guessing/hoping that it is this little creature that playing "tug" with me as I write this. Every now and then there will be a tug in the mosquito netting and it vanishes down between the wall and the bed. I pull it back up again. A few minutes later, and it is pulled down again. It is getting slightly unnerving, and I think Ill turn on the roof lights before going to bed. I will also check out the undefinable sounds coming from the bathroom first.
Still, even with all the strange animals here, I really like this place. While the rest of India has been an amazing journey both historically and culturally, Agonda is the first place I could have easily called "home" for a few months. Even if I would have like a hut with less holes then. Now off to find my MagLite before I fall asleep...
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Somebody call 9-1-1!!
I actually woke up from a painful stomach, far too early for my liking. That pizza really wasn't good for anything. I did find a rather somber Susanne though, her foot not any better at all. Doctor it was. Where does one find a doctor here? I mean, where does one find a good doctor?
I was readied and out of the door around 9 some time, and was pretty much alone walking down the street. No one else here are crazy enough to set foot outdoor for at least another hour. Before leaving I had used my Indian phone as a modem for my netbook and found the 24-hour emergency number of my travel insurance. They play heavily on their ability to recommend good places to go for medical consultation in their commercials, so I decided to test them. I found a half-opened cybercafe/callpoint and after a little waiting their phone was linked up and a few rings later I was on the phone with a nice Norwegian lady. It is strange speaking a language again after not using it for a month. We did find a nice hospital relatively close and I got the address. Going a little further down the road I came upon a sleeping taxi driver who gave me his number. The return trip would be about Rs1000 + some for the time he was waiting there. On my way back I almost commandeered a Jeep from a lifeguard so Susanne would not have to walk the 30 meters or so of loose sand from the hut to the road. Good thing I did not, as that would have been embarrassing, apparently. What could possibly be embarrassing with having a shiny red life guard jeep standing outside?! NT's!!
Doing it the harder way, we made it up to the road and our taxi arrived shortly thereafter. The drive to the hospital took about an hour, giving us a nice overview of the surroundings. Almost like being back on the road with Sanji! The hotel was located in the heart of Margao, a rather large city with all the things that come with it. Somehow managing to find the hospital we were let off at the main entrance. After having positioned Susanne on a bench, I got in line for registration. After a little wait (most of which was caused by the totally nonexistent queueing culture here), I got a patient registration scheme that Susanne had to fill out. Once that was done, I handed it back and had to pay a total of Rs250 for registration and consultation with a doctor.
We had been assigned Room 3, which we found further up the hallway. I was unable to find any wheel chairs to rent or borrow, but Susanne hopped along bravely. Again a little wait as the doctor was elsewhere - and then a little wait because of the said lack of queueing culture - and we were seated in a nice examination room. After bending and prodding her foot a little, the doctor sent Susanne for an x-ray. Now a nurse came with a wheelchair and Sue was trollied away while I sorted more paperwork. First I had to go to the x-ray radiology reception to get a form approved, then I had to go back to the main reception (but another section) to pay for it, then I had to go back to the radiology reception with the receipt and once that was done the x-ray room was ready and Susanne rolled in. I decided to stay outside as soon as I saw the machines. Chernobyl was still alive!
5 minutes later or so, after her doctor had stopped by to check up on her, Susanne came back out again. Sadly, not glowing or anything. We went back to the doctors office, and just during the walk there he had gotten a report from the x-ray office that nothing was broken. She has torn a ligament though, and he recommended having her foot immobilised so it could grow properly. She could still use her foot but only with 50% load or so.
We were then taken down to the emergency/casualty ward and seated in a fairly nice ER examination room. Stuff appeared quite clean compared to the rest of the country so far, even though Susanne was still happy she did not have an open wound of any kind. After a few minutes her doctor appeared again and taped up her food with a strong tape so it would stay still. She has to keep it dry however, so no more normal showering and no bathing.
She is such a sport with these things though, taking it all in stride. Getting my travel insurance to transport us home (like they had offered) was not an option in her book - she was on vacation! Besides, where could she possibly have a better place to be immobilized than at her beach hut?
Once done in the ER, we paid another Rs680 or so and continued on to the pharmacy. Here she got some pills against the swelling and a crutch to steady herself against. Not the most modern kind though, something like a Y with a T. Still better than nothing I guess, even if two might have been better. Maybe we find something here tomorrow.
I had sent our taxi driver away to get himself some lunch while waiting, and he arrived 15 minutes after we were done. I was asleep most of the drive home, only waking up as we stopped outside the beach hut. While I had agreed with the driver on Rs1000, there was still that "something" for the wait, and I wanted to treat him to his lunch. And of course the 10% tip. As always he refused to say how much extra he would like, but I think another Rs1000 was more than he had expected. Susanne later said it was too much, and she is usually right. Still, for the wait, parking, food and not least my gratitude for helping me get my best friend to the hospital and back, I did not find it that much. It is hardly a long combined lunch/dinner in the shadow of a beach restaurant for two here, perhaps he will take his special one out for a nice day at the beach instead of being couped up in a warm car.
After refreshing in the hut, we hopped back to the road and over to the restaurant where we had booked our hut from as it was among the closest. Food was nice, and we met another friendly dog. There seems to be one or more attached to every restaurant or beach chair here. After food I sent Susanne off to a cybercafe so she could get some writing done and I went off to get the Eee for my prewritten blogs and maybe getting some pictures uploaded. Sadly, it is quite slow (as is the connection here..) so only 25% or so of the pictures will be uploaded tonight. Oh well, the rest tomorrow. On the way back to the cybercafe I tried finding something like a trolley or wagon I could haul Susanne around in (its especially bad for her in the loose sand), but I had no luck. I did find a tuktuk driver that gave me his phone number so she would not have to walk back to the huts. Perhaps I will have to rent a jeep...
I was readied and out of the door around 9 some time, and was pretty much alone walking down the street. No one else here are crazy enough to set foot outdoor for at least another hour. Before leaving I had used my Indian phone as a modem for my netbook and found the 24-hour emergency number of my travel insurance. They play heavily on their ability to recommend good places to go for medical consultation in their commercials, so I decided to test them. I found a half-opened cybercafe/callpoint and after a little waiting their phone was linked up and a few rings later I was on the phone with a nice Norwegian lady. It is strange speaking a language again after not using it for a month. We did find a nice hospital relatively close and I got the address. Going a little further down the road I came upon a sleeping taxi driver who gave me his number. The return trip would be about Rs1000 + some for the time he was waiting there. On my way back I almost commandeered a Jeep from a lifeguard so Susanne would not have to walk the 30 meters or so of loose sand from the hut to the road. Good thing I did not, as that would have been embarrassing, apparently. What could possibly be embarrassing with having a shiny red life guard jeep standing outside?! NT's!!
Doing it the harder way, we made it up to the road and our taxi arrived shortly thereafter. The drive to the hospital took about an hour, giving us a nice overview of the surroundings. Almost like being back on the road with Sanji! The hotel was located in the heart of Margao, a rather large city with all the things that come with it. Somehow managing to find the hospital we were let off at the main entrance. After having positioned Susanne on a bench, I got in line for registration. After a little wait (most of which was caused by the totally nonexistent queueing culture here), I got a patient registration scheme that Susanne had to fill out. Once that was done, I handed it back and had to pay a total of Rs250 for registration and consultation with a doctor.
We had been assigned Room 3, which we found further up the hallway. I was unable to find any wheel chairs to rent or borrow, but Susanne hopped along bravely. Again a little wait as the doctor was elsewhere - and then a little wait because of the said lack of queueing culture - and we were seated in a nice examination room. After bending and prodding her foot a little, the doctor sent Susanne for an x-ray. Now a nurse came with a wheelchair and Sue was trollied away while I sorted more paperwork. First I had to go to the x-ray radiology reception to get a form approved, then I had to go back to the main reception (but another section) to pay for it, then I had to go back to the radiology reception with the receipt and once that was done the x-ray room was ready and Susanne rolled in. I decided to stay outside as soon as I saw the machines. Chernobyl was still alive!
5 minutes later or so, after her doctor had stopped by to check up on her, Susanne came back out again. Sadly, not glowing or anything. We went back to the doctors office, and just during the walk there he had gotten a report from the x-ray office that nothing was broken. She has torn a ligament though, and he recommended having her foot immobilised so it could grow properly. She could still use her foot but only with 50% load or so.
We were then taken down to the emergency/casualty ward and seated in a fairly nice ER examination room. Stuff appeared quite clean compared to the rest of the country so far, even though Susanne was still happy she did not have an open wound of any kind. After a few minutes her doctor appeared again and taped up her food with a strong tape so it would stay still. She has to keep it dry however, so no more normal showering and no bathing.
She is such a sport with these things though, taking it all in stride. Getting my travel insurance to transport us home (like they had offered) was not an option in her book - she was on vacation! Besides, where could she possibly have a better place to be immobilized than at her beach hut?
Once done in the ER, we paid another Rs680 or so and continued on to the pharmacy. Here she got some pills against the swelling and a crutch to steady herself against. Not the most modern kind though, something like a Y with a T. Still better than nothing I guess, even if two might have been better. Maybe we find something here tomorrow.
I had sent our taxi driver away to get himself some lunch while waiting, and he arrived 15 minutes after we were done. I was asleep most of the drive home, only waking up as we stopped outside the beach hut. While I had agreed with the driver on Rs1000, there was still that "something" for the wait, and I wanted to treat him to his lunch. And of course the 10% tip. As always he refused to say how much extra he would like, but I think another Rs1000 was more than he had expected. Susanne later said it was too much, and she is usually right. Still, for the wait, parking, food and not least my gratitude for helping me get my best friend to the hospital and back, I did not find it that much. It is hardly a long combined lunch/dinner in the shadow of a beach restaurant for two here, perhaps he will take his special one out for a nice day at the beach instead of being couped up in a warm car.
After refreshing in the hut, we hopped back to the road and over to the restaurant where we had booked our hut from as it was among the closest. Food was nice, and we met another friendly dog. There seems to be one or more attached to every restaurant or beach chair here. After food I sent Susanne off to a cybercafe so she could get some writing done and I went off to get the Eee for my prewritten blogs and maybe getting some pictures uploaded. Sadly, it is quite slow (as is the connection here..) so only 25% or so of the pictures will be uploaded tonight. Oh well, the rest tomorrow. On the way back to the cybercafe I tried finding something like a trolley or wagon I could haul Susanne around in (its especially bad for her in the loose sand), but I had no luck. I did find a tuktuk driver that gave me his phone number so she would not have to walk back to the huts. Perhaps I will have to rent a jeep...
Beach huts!
So much has happened today that writing about yesterday will mostly be based on my short notes.
Yesterday we woke up late, neither of us had been up for setting an alarm. Fully in style with the rest of the place here, I think. Nothing opens before 11 anyway. Not that we were in any kind of hurry, our first appointment was at noon. This morning Susanne had some stomach pains though, probably too many acids in the fruit drinks the night before. We just made it to the cabins in time and met up with one of the employees who showed us the hut we would get. It was still occupied and he was about to evict the current inhabitants, but I intervened and said that it would be no real use to use before the evening anyway as the hotel was paid for the day anyway. Did get to peek inside though and it looked really roomy and airy compared to our current room. Deal!
Afterwards we went to an Italian restaurant we had seen earlier, hungry for pizza. So much for that! Pizza was the one thing they did not serve that early. I ended up with a Bolognese, sadly not of the kind I know. The majority of the dish consisted of minced meat fried in spices and a little spaghetti. No sauce. The pancake I had for dessert was nice though!
As we were sitting there, Susanne got into a conversation with our travel agency via phone. After a good 15 minutes we had some new things to think about. As I very much expected, they would not pay for our beach huts. That was still OK, Susanne wanted beach huts and she got beach huts. I must say I much prefer them too. The interesting thing was rather our flight from Goa to Delhi. We had booked the trip so that we would have 3 full days in Delhi at the end of our journey. Now we were informed that our original flight would leave Goa airport on the 22nd instead. I am most definitely not up for a week in Delhi, it is far too large and noisy and smelly, especially after Goa. But that would actually not be a problem anyway, as the travel agency was about to book us on a flight on the 27th instead! It seems like there was some doubts whether the midnight flight we were booked on for the 22nd would actually work out or would end up cancelled, and the flight on the 27th is some time in the afternoon. Also, they had booked us into beach huts now - even though the message yesterday was "no beach huts" because of "safety issues" and "all booked out".
These huts would be on another beach though, Palolam. A far more touristy beach with a much more active nightlife. We were starting to enjoy our little off-track beach though, and didn't want to leave just yet. As we had booked the beach huts here until the 22nd, I came up with the idea of staying here until sometime on the 22nd and then move over to the other beach and the company beach huts until the 27th. That way we would still have some time here, and we would also see another beach. One day in Delhi is perhaps a little short, but rather that, than a week. We got a web address for the huts at Palolam, and after checking it out at a cybercafe Susanne called the travel agency back and arranged it like that.
We then ventured back to our 'untel'room to pick up bathing outfits. As we had walked all the way south the day before, we decided going all the way north. Towards the northern end there was a river flowing into the ocean, creating the setting of a nice lagoon. We never got around to bathe (just got a little wet from wading through the stream) as we would have to be back at the beach hut by 6pm to accept the cabin. We agreed on taking a break at the first restaurant we passed going south and found a quiet little place next to a set of beached fishing boats. A sweet little girl ran off to wake her father, and soon we were served a nice meal of mixed vegetables and rice. Neither of us were too hungry, so we shared it.
We made it to the cabins just in time, but the cabin was still not empty. The previous inhabitants were also on Goa time! No problem for us though, we just crashed at the closest beach restaurant and had a nice meal as as the sun slowly set in the horizon. We also made a new friend there, Lady. A nice golden shorthaired lady in her best years, she is a permanent resident of the huts in the area together with her friend, a black and yellow specimen that was a little more shy. Lady on the other hand was not shy, and she was laying across my feet under the table even before the food arrived.
Once they had finally managed to get everything packed, the previous inhabitants of our hut came over to us and let us know it was all ready and clean now, they were off to another beach with a late night bus. We got the key from the cabin and set a course for out untel. We also had a lot to pack and it took a lot of time before we were suddenly standing in the reception ready to check out... our untel-manager was less amused, even though he this way would still get money for the room and also the ability to rent it out again making it a double win for him. Oh well, can't please them all.
Just dropping our luggage at the hut we headed south along the road. In Susannes book there was a mention of a restaurant with a great chocolate pudding and I had to try it of course. It was quite a walk and it was dark, and on the way there Susanne failed to see where the edge of the road made a little curve and she stepped over on her left ankle. Poor her. She still made it to the restaurant though, it would probably be fine once she had rested it a little. It was an Italian place and the menu was quite disappointing. Perhaps 10 pizzas and 5 pasta dishes as well as some soups and a few other things. I went for a pizza margarita. I think I prefer American style pan pizza, the dough on the pizza I got was so hard I had problem cutting it with a beef knife. The filling was bland at tasteless as well. Meh. And chocolate pudding? Nope.
Not wanting to wait around for a taxi at night we walked home, Susannes foot still hurting but perhaps getting a little better. Halfway home we came across a taxi, and we were driven the last Lady greeted us as we came through the back gate. The foot was still uncomfortable as she went to bed though, and we agreed that she should see a doctor if it was still as bad in the morning.
It was so nice going to sleep in our hut, the waves slowly taking us into the land of dreams, and fresh air being circulated through all the openings in the rather basically built hut. It keeps cool during the day and gets borderline cold at night, just perfect for sleeping. I did find use for my Leatherman, the locking loop for the deadbolt being a cm too high too lock. Now it locks. Not that it actually matters too much as the bathroom s only separated from the main room by a 2 meter high wall and the roof is almost 4 meters up at its peak.. but still, it needed sorting and it got sorted. Like the clock on the air condition remote in Kochi, it was all wrong. Now it is not.
Yesterday we woke up late, neither of us had been up for setting an alarm. Fully in style with the rest of the place here, I think. Nothing opens before 11 anyway. Not that we were in any kind of hurry, our first appointment was at noon. This morning Susanne had some stomach pains though, probably too many acids in the fruit drinks the night before. We just made it to the cabins in time and met up with one of the employees who showed us the hut we would get. It was still occupied and he was about to evict the current inhabitants, but I intervened and said that it would be no real use to use before the evening anyway as the hotel was paid for the day anyway. Did get to peek inside though and it looked really roomy and airy compared to our current room. Deal!
Afterwards we went to an Italian restaurant we had seen earlier, hungry for pizza. So much for that! Pizza was the one thing they did not serve that early. I ended up with a Bolognese, sadly not of the kind I know. The majority of the dish consisted of minced meat fried in spices and a little spaghetti. No sauce. The pancake I had for dessert was nice though!
As we were sitting there, Susanne got into a conversation with our travel agency via phone. After a good 15 minutes we had some new things to think about. As I very much expected, they would not pay for our beach huts. That was still OK, Susanne wanted beach huts and she got beach huts. I must say I much prefer them too. The interesting thing was rather our flight from Goa to Delhi. We had booked the trip so that we would have 3 full days in Delhi at the end of our journey. Now we were informed that our original flight would leave Goa airport on the 22nd instead. I am most definitely not up for a week in Delhi, it is far too large and noisy and smelly, especially after Goa. But that would actually not be a problem anyway, as the travel agency was about to book us on a flight on the 27th instead! It seems like there was some doubts whether the midnight flight we were booked on for the 22nd would actually work out or would end up cancelled, and the flight on the 27th is some time in the afternoon. Also, they had booked us into beach huts now - even though the message yesterday was "no beach huts" because of "safety issues" and "all booked out".
These huts would be on another beach though, Palolam. A far more touristy beach with a much more active nightlife. We were starting to enjoy our little off-track beach though, and didn't want to leave just yet. As we had booked the beach huts here until the 22nd, I came up with the idea of staying here until sometime on the 22nd and then move over to the other beach and the company beach huts until the 27th. That way we would still have some time here, and we would also see another beach. One day in Delhi is perhaps a little short, but rather that, than a week. We got a web address for the huts at Palolam, and after checking it out at a cybercafe Susanne called the travel agency back and arranged it like that.
We then ventured back to our 'untel'room to pick up bathing outfits. As we had walked all the way south the day before, we decided going all the way north. Towards the northern end there was a river flowing into the ocean, creating the setting of a nice lagoon. We never got around to bathe (just got a little wet from wading through the stream) as we would have to be back at the beach hut by 6pm to accept the cabin. We agreed on taking a break at the first restaurant we passed going south and found a quiet little place next to a set of beached fishing boats. A sweet little girl ran off to wake her father, and soon we were served a nice meal of mixed vegetables and rice. Neither of us were too hungry, so we shared it.
We made it to the cabins just in time, but the cabin was still not empty. The previous inhabitants were also on Goa time! No problem for us though, we just crashed at the closest beach restaurant and had a nice meal as as the sun slowly set in the horizon. We also made a new friend there, Lady. A nice golden shorthaired lady in her best years, she is a permanent resident of the huts in the area together with her friend, a black and yellow specimen that was a little more shy. Lady on the other hand was not shy, and she was laying across my feet under the table even before the food arrived.
Once they had finally managed to get everything packed, the previous inhabitants of our hut came over to us and let us know it was all ready and clean now, they were off to another beach with a late night bus. We got the key from the cabin and set a course for out untel. We also had a lot to pack and it took a lot of time before we were suddenly standing in the reception ready to check out... our untel-manager was less amused, even though he this way would still get money for the room and also the ability to rent it out again making it a double win for him. Oh well, can't please them all.
Just dropping our luggage at the hut we headed south along the road. In Susannes book there was a mention of a restaurant with a great chocolate pudding and I had to try it of course. It was quite a walk and it was dark, and on the way there Susanne failed to see where the edge of the road made a little curve and she stepped over on her left ankle. Poor her. She still made it to the restaurant though, it would probably be fine once she had rested it a little. It was an Italian place and the menu was quite disappointing. Perhaps 10 pizzas and 5 pasta dishes as well as some soups and a few other things. I went for a pizza margarita. I think I prefer American style pan pizza, the dough on the pizza I got was so hard I had problem cutting it with a beef knife. The filling was bland at tasteless as well. Meh. And chocolate pudding? Nope.
Not wanting to wait around for a taxi at night we walked home, Susannes foot still hurting but perhaps getting a little better. Halfway home we came across a taxi, and we were driven the last Lady greeted us as we came through the back gate. The foot was still uncomfortable as she went to bed though, and we agreed that she should see a doctor if it was still as bad in the morning.
It was so nice going to sleep in our hut, the waves slowly taking us into the land of dreams, and fresh air being circulated through all the openings in the rather basically built hut. It keeps cool during the day and gets borderline cold at night, just perfect for sleeping. I did find use for my Leatherman, the locking loop for the deadbolt being a cm too high too lock. Now it locks. Not that it actually matters too much as the bathroom s only separated from the main room by a 2 meter high wall and the roof is almost 4 meters up at its peak.. but still, it needed sorting and it got sorted. Like the clock on the air condition remote in Kochi, it was all wrong. Now it is not.
...hic!
I am, quite honestly, drunk. Now that's a first. It's clearly the fault of the nice barman at a bar/restaurant down at the beach, I have no idea what the name of either was but tomorrow I hope Ill be able to find it again. There is a local flavor of alcohol here called fenny. The spirit is quite nice, a little schnappsy but with a unique flair that somehow manages to engage every single taste bud on the tongue. The barman also makes a truly mean Long Island Ice Tea. It tastes far better than any I've had before, and the aftertaste is as round as polished lemon we agreed. Tomorrow he will make an even better one just for me. I will skip the local brew then, I think. Now, I am not completely smashed or anything, but far deeper under the influence of alcohol than I have ever been before. Walking in a straight line is a little tricky without my germanian guardian angel at my side and hand/eye coordination is less than optimal. I was still able to evict a rather large creepycrawly from our room and also able to find the master crane for the toilet when it started running over. Guess it could be worse, though I am staying completely our of traffic.
Anyway, I am getting ahead of myself. Yesterday I woke up by the rumbling of the engine coming to life. Well, I was awoken by my alarm quite a few times before that, but it is hardly the same. A quick tour of the bathroom later and we were seated in the forward dining lounge. Yesterday had somehow ended with Susanne ordering Indian breakfast (veg, not spicy) and I more or less chose "continental" (English) breakfast with egg. While northern Indian breakfast was nice, the southern food didn't sit right with me that early in the morning. The British one, generally consisting of toast and marmalade (and tea) always went down smoothly on the other hand. So, there I was, expecting a load of warm toast and some marmalade. And maybe some butter. And a boiled egg or two.
What I got, was bar none the best meal I have ever had the joy of experiencing in my entire life. While there was little to note about the decrusted, slightly soggy toasts in the tupperware box or the nondescript butter served with it, the omelet was exquisite. A few millimeters thick and containing pieces of paprika and onion, it could easily have been confused with just any other omelet. This one, on the other hand, was pure pleasure. The magic was clearly in the spices. I have no idea what it might have been, and I have little hope of experiencing it again - or sharing it. The cook was hardly able to speak even basic English, although he clearly understood my praise of the food.
After my unexpected encounter with the omelet we went up to the observation deck to enjoy the cruise back towards the dock. Taking a far shorter route this time, I would guesstimate that we were under way for about an hour before arriving. It is amazing how these people are able to navigate these mazes of canals and waterways without any form of radio or navigational equipment aboard. As we were about to disembark I noticed the engine control panel in the "kitchen" (pentry, I guess it should be referred to as, but in all honesty, the superstructure was internally built like a house, not a boat). The small panel consisted of an ampere-meter steam gauge, an ignition key and a few warning/information lights without any description. Arriving after many of the others, they wedged our floating hut in between some other slugs laying tied up already and we walked through another boat and then onto dry land. The end of a journey.
We were unsurprised to find that there were no driver or car waiting for us, but the owner of the house boat quickly arranged transport for us back to Kochi and to the train station were were scheduled to depart from. Shortly after, a Mahindra-produced Renault sedan was packed up with our things and we were on our way. It was the first time we had been installed in a turbo-powered car on our trip so far, but as I finally had a working seat belt available to me I took it all in stride. Still, the general public here should not have access to turbos. I must say the license built frenchie handled more like a European car than anything I've been in so far, and the drive was quite pleasant.
At the train station we had a bit of a wait ahead of us, seeing as we were there roughly two hours early, but time passed somehow. I was mostly engaged with my latest book, Crescent Dawn, the latest in the Dirk Pitt/NUMA line (think I mentioned it earlier). The train arrived on time and we found our widely separated seats, one in each of the two cabins in the train wagon. The trains here are as wide as the typical west/north European train, but here they manage to fit two times three seats in the width. And people say that Ryanair seats are cramped.. While I had been assigned an aisle seat the couple sitting next to me diverted me to the window seat, it turned out that they were moving around a lot, not sure why.
I was still full from my Omelet far into the afternoon, when I finally decided to get some more to eat. Two alufoil
During the entire train trip - when not eating, anyway - I was completely lost in my book. I finished the last page of the 100th and final chapter just in time to pack up and prepare for disembarking. There were a few unscheduled stations before ours, Magdoan or so, came into view. I got the honor of unlocking the door as I was a little in the way where I stood with backpack, shoulder pack and Sues bag, and hit the platform just as the train came to a stop.
We were positively surprised to find someone standing there with a poster saying "shafer vom stein" on it and we were soon on our way. This time in a Tata sedan of sorts, also this one turbocharged. It was the first car I have found to have its various states on the ignition key lock brightly back lit, a cool feature. Nature here was, during the drive anyway, quite similar to Norway. Large green trees and little traffic. The only major difference, other than the traffic still coming from the wrong side, was the yellow sand covering the ditches and the brightly colored reflective tapes everywhere guiding us through each corner like a projected flight path on a holographic heads up display in a science fiction movie. The drive itself generally reminded me of "Getaway in Stockholm", while never actually eliciting any sounds from the tires as we went into each corner at an invigorating pace. Some of the sense of speed must have been coming from the construction of the vehicle, as we never actually passed 120, one of the highest velocity markings on the speedometer. I must admit that I was a little nervous about the "beach huts" they had booked us in at as we turned into a road hardly better than a logging path for quite some time. Then, suddenly, we were out on a normal road again.
Shortly after, we arrived into a tiny village. It was quite like the other industrialised Indian roadside settlements we had seen so far except that it was all closed and dark. No wonder, as the clock was fast approaching 3 at night. We were both looking forward to dropping out baggage in our little hut on the beach and catch as much shut-eye as possible.
The car stopped outside a small building with the name "Cupid's Heaven" painted outside and we were given a tiny room with a 'romantic' red light bulb, a window into the reception and a wet bathroom not large enough to change opinions; why it had not yet gotten a vibrating bed installed remains a mystery. Neither of us were amused. While I was too tired to make any fuzz out of it until the morning, Susanne let them know that this was not a beach hut, and she wanted a beach hut. We were told that they did not have any, and got something about security concerns. We did fall asleep in our "romantic little love-nest" (that should be read with sarcasm seeping out of it like fat out of a cheap hamburger at a truck stop) and were quite awake and ready for action around 10 the next morning.
First we reopened the issue of the lacking beach-huttyness of our current lodgings. Calls to the travel agency and words with the manager did not get us any closer to a beach hut, but we were explained that there had been some security issues on some other beach earlier and therefore we had been booked in at a hotel (or, as I refer to it, untel) without anyone asking us. We were promised the best room they had come night though. We then sorted laundry, finally. Once that was done, we headed towards the beach which turned out to be just 50 meters or so from the back of our untel. Oh, by the way, while quickly exploring the untel before we left, we found that the room opposite of ours was actually a tattoo parlor.
The beach was nice. The deserted emptyness I experienced when arriving here last night was gone, and there was a bar or a collection of beach huts as far as the eye could see along the beach in each direction. There were some tourists here, but the beach was not packed. There are also cows and dogs roaming the beaches here. First time there we turned right and after walking a bit we ended up in a bar/restaurant under a nice palm-leaf roof. I ended up trying the Chicken Masala, while Susanne went for, I think, an Aloo Kofta. I also killed a few glass bottles of 7UP, 200ml each. Once breakfast was done, we had heard word that the bar owner would have a beach hut available from tomorrow that we could have, so we walked to take a look at it. It was on the beachfront and looked cozy from the outside, tomorrow at 12 we will check out the interior and it just might be that we get our Goan beach hut holiday after all.
Back in our untel we were told that we couldn't switch rooms yet, as the person supposed to be checking out today was drunk and still asleep. We changed for more beachweary outfits and I broke out my Source Gobi trekking sandals. Susanne nearly had a fit when I explained to her my intentions of wearing them with socks, I just cannot wear them barefoot for several reasons. Must be an NT thing, socks and sandals...
We then hit the streets again, walking south until we ran out of village and shops (Susanne trying on various pants and other clothes along the way, myself picking up the entire stock of Orbit chewing gum as I was out again). We also passed a nice church, but were hardly dressed for entering it. We then turned towards the beach and followed it south as far as it went. It ended in a rather rocky area that demanded a little active jumping and climbing before finally reaching a halt at a series of very large boulders stacked into the sea. Susanne sat down to soak up some sun while I went on a more advanced freeclimbing excursion to reach the stone furthest out. The sandals turned out to be quite good for climbing, but my cozy/pyjama pants are not barnacle proof and had a few extra holes by the time I was back with Susanne.
We walked north until we saw the first and best restaurant. Before the restaurants and beach-huts started, there were several expedition-grade vehicles parked and rigged for camping, among them a very nice 6x6 MAN military-style carrier with all kinds of kit mounted to it.
The restaurant, Cuba ("Where...time takes a break!"), was a welcome haven from the sun and we could rehydrate a little again. Simple rehydration turned to relaxation pur and after several hours, multiple glass bottles of coke, various fruit juices, and a bottle of mineral water; a very nice Mexican dish, yummy fries and a vanilla ice cream (made using packaged drinking water) with chocolate sauce for me and a vegeburger and salad for Susanne we finally managed to break free of the senseless gluttony and lazying around in the shadow of our roofed and raised little terrace and slowly move back home to the untel. While sitting there, it was interesting to note that the cows had learned from the dogs and were begging at the food tables standing down at the beach. One cow got a little too enthusiastic and pushed the patron clean off of his sunbed while requesting the remains of his food. Cows are too big to do dog-things.
First we passed by the beach hut we might take tomorrow to see how the front looked as well. Still looking good to us!
Back at our untel we claimed our laundry (less than Rs400) and were informed that we could not have the better room tonight as the drunk person was STILL sleeping, but after a few to-and-froms they managed to dig up a better room than the one we had. Now it is next door to the tattoo parlor and the window is facing out to the roofed bar(could order drinks directly through the window); the bathroom again wet. It is still a huge upgrade from what we had. The music from the bar was also a bonus here, playing western pop music. Cleaning up a little (I am still trying to get used to the lack of warm water) and getting into new clothes, and rigging up a clothes line for my still we clothes as Susanne jumped into the street to secure some thread so we could rig our mosquito netting later, we were ready for town again.
Susanne still wanted some comfortable loose-fitting pants, and coming past one shop she saw something that piqued her interest. As always, the store owner was quickly with us ready to explain everything we might need to know to choose his establishment as the place to leave a few rupees. To my great surprise, when Susanne declined his offers, he merely said "Sorry for the interruption" and vanished back into the shop. Amazing, completely unexpected after 2 weeks in Rajasthan. We also ventured inside the shop as Susanne was scouring it for legwear without interruption by the shopkeeper. I was treated to a chair and was soon in conversation with the man. Making a long clothes-trying-session short, we talked about anything from Kashmiri houseboats to world religions. He was a Muslim, but first of all a human being as he said, and he was saddened by all the hate and conflict among the various people and their religions. If more people were like him, I think the world would definitely be a much more peaceful place to live. Having myself had little contact with Islam, it was very nice to meet a non-extremist side of the faith. Susanne ended on two loose and cozy pants and we both left the shop quite spirited. We again headed down towards the beach for dinner and a few drinks and quickly found a nice place with good music and lights in many colors. Taking a seat as close to the water as possible (not that we could see much, the sun had set while we were getting ready earlier), a very friendly waiter took our orders.
Starting off with coke and mineral water for me and a lemon soda for Susanne, we took our time deciding on what to eat. I ended up with ordering a "special steak" with red wine sauce and mushrooms served with boiled vegetables and fried onions, and Susanne went with an Indian dish that was new to her and vegan. I cannot remember the name though. Food arrived after some time. It was truly well made, both hers and mine. After eating I was not full, but satisfied. Susanne being tired from her food and too full, opted not to get anything more to drink. I had to try the local spirit of course, and as they had my long time favorite drink - LIIT - I had to try that as well. That pretty much leads to the beginning of this entry. By now any disabling effects of the alcohol is gone and I am looking forward to getting some sleep. Hoping Ill be able to get up around 9, I should still be able to get almost 8 hours of sleep tonight. Maybe we get beach-hutted tomorrow?
Anyway, I am getting ahead of myself. Yesterday I woke up by the rumbling of the engine coming to life. Well, I was awoken by my alarm quite a few times before that, but it is hardly the same. A quick tour of the bathroom later and we were seated in the forward dining lounge. Yesterday had somehow ended with Susanne ordering Indian breakfast (veg, not spicy) and I more or less chose "continental" (English) breakfast with egg. While northern Indian breakfast was nice, the southern food didn't sit right with me that early in the morning. The British one, generally consisting of toast and marmalade (and tea) always went down smoothly on the other hand. So, there I was, expecting a load of warm toast and some marmalade. And maybe some butter. And a boiled egg or two.
What I got, was bar none the best meal I have ever had the joy of experiencing in my entire life. While there was little to note about the decrusted, slightly soggy toasts in the tupperware box or the nondescript butter served with it, the omelet was exquisite. A few millimeters thick and containing pieces of paprika and onion, it could easily have been confused with just any other omelet. This one, on the other hand, was pure pleasure. The magic was clearly in the spices. I have no idea what it might have been, and I have little hope of experiencing it again - or sharing it. The cook was hardly able to speak even basic English, although he clearly understood my praise of the food.
After my unexpected encounter with the omelet we went up to the observation deck to enjoy the cruise back towards the dock. Taking a far shorter route this time, I would guesstimate that we were under way for about an hour before arriving. It is amazing how these people are able to navigate these mazes of canals and waterways without any form of radio or navigational equipment aboard. As we were about to disembark I noticed the engine control panel in the "kitchen" (pentry, I guess it should be referred to as, but in all honesty, the superstructure was internally built like a house, not a boat). The small panel consisted of an ampere-meter steam gauge, an ignition key and a few warning/information lights without any description. Arriving after many of the others, they wedged our floating hut in between some other slugs laying tied up already and we walked through another boat and then onto dry land. The end of a journey.
We were unsurprised to find that there were no driver or car waiting for us, but the owner of the house boat quickly arranged transport for us back to Kochi and to the train station were were scheduled to depart from. Shortly after, a Mahindra-produced Renault sedan was packed up with our things and we were on our way. It was the first time we had been installed in a turbo-powered car on our trip so far, but as I finally had a working seat belt available to me I took it all in stride. Still, the general public here should not have access to turbos. I must say the license built frenchie handled more like a European car than anything I've been in so far, and the drive was quite pleasant.
At the train station we had a bit of a wait ahead of us, seeing as we were there roughly two hours early, but time passed somehow. I was mostly engaged with my latest book, Crescent Dawn, the latest in the Dirk Pitt/NUMA line (think I mentioned it earlier). The train arrived on time and we found our widely separated seats, one in each of the two cabins in the train wagon. The trains here are as wide as the typical west/north European train, but here they manage to fit two times three seats in the width. And people say that Ryanair seats are cramped.. While I had been assigned an aisle seat the couple sitting next to me diverted me to the window seat, it turned out that they were moving around a lot, not sure why.
I was still full from my Omelet far into the afternoon, when I finally decided to get some more to eat. Two alufoil
During the entire train trip - when not eating, anyway - I was completely lost in my book. I finished the last page of the 100th and final chapter just in time to pack up and prepare for disembarking. There were a few unscheduled stations before ours, Magdoan or so, came into view. I got the honor of unlocking the door as I was a little in the way where I stood with backpack, shoulder pack and Sues bag, and hit the platform just as the train came to a stop.
We were positively surprised to find someone standing there with a poster saying "shafer vom stein" on it and we were soon on our way. This time in a Tata sedan of sorts, also this one turbocharged. It was the first car I have found to have its various states on the ignition key lock brightly back lit, a cool feature. Nature here was, during the drive anyway, quite similar to Norway. Large green trees and little traffic. The only major difference, other than the traffic still coming from the wrong side, was the yellow sand covering the ditches and the brightly colored reflective tapes everywhere guiding us through each corner like a projected flight path on a holographic heads up display in a science fiction movie. The drive itself generally reminded me of "Getaway in Stockholm", while never actually eliciting any sounds from the tires as we went into each corner at an invigorating pace. Some of the sense of speed must have been coming from the construction of the vehicle, as we never actually passed 120, one of the highest velocity markings on the speedometer. I must admit that I was a little nervous about the "beach huts" they had booked us in at as we turned into a road hardly better than a logging path for quite some time. Then, suddenly, we were out on a normal road again.
Shortly after, we arrived into a tiny village. It was quite like the other industrialised Indian roadside settlements we had seen so far except that it was all closed and dark. No wonder, as the clock was fast approaching 3 at night. We were both looking forward to dropping out baggage in our little hut on the beach and catch as much shut-eye as possible.
The car stopped outside a small building with the name "Cupid's Heaven" painted outside and we were given a tiny room with a 'romantic' red light bulb, a window into the reception and a wet bathroom not large enough to change opinions; why it had not yet gotten a vibrating bed installed remains a mystery. Neither of us were amused. While I was too tired to make any fuzz out of it until the morning, Susanne let them know that this was not a beach hut, and she wanted a beach hut. We were told that they did not have any, and got something about security concerns. We did fall asleep in our "romantic little love-nest" (that should be read with sarcasm seeping out of it like fat out of a cheap hamburger at a truck stop) and were quite awake and ready for action around 10 the next morning.
First we reopened the issue of the lacking beach-huttyness of our current lodgings. Calls to the travel agency and words with the manager did not get us any closer to a beach hut, but we were explained that there had been some security issues on some other beach earlier and therefore we had been booked in at a hotel (or, as I refer to it, untel) without anyone asking us. We were promised the best room they had come night though. We then sorted laundry, finally. Once that was done, we headed towards the beach which turned out to be just 50 meters or so from the back of our untel. Oh, by the way, while quickly exploring the untel before we left, we found that the room opposite of ours was actually a tattoo parlor.
The beach was nice. The deserted emptyness I experienced when arriving here last night was gone, and there was a bar or a collection of beach huts as far as the eye could see along the beach in each direction. There were some tourists here, but the beach was not packed. There are also cows and dogs roaming the beaches here. First time there we turned right and after walking a bit we ended up in a bar/restaurant under a nice palm-leaf roof. I ended up trying the Chicken Masala, while Susanne went for, I think, an Aloo Kofta. I also killed a few glass bottles of 7UP, 200ml each. Once breakfast was done, we had heard word that the bar owner would have a beach hut available from tomorrow that we could have, so we walked to take a look at it. It was on the beachfront and looked cozy from the outside, tomorrow at 12 we will check out the interior and it just might be that we get our Goan beach hut holiday after all.
Back in our untel we were told that we couldn't switch rooms yet, as the person supposed to be checking out today was drunk and still asleep. We changed for more beachweary outfits and I broke out my Source Gobi trekking sandals. Susanne nearly had a fit when I explained to her my intentions of wearing them with socks, I just cannot wear them barefoot for several reasons. Must be an NT thing, socks and sandals...
We then hit the streets again, walking south until we ran out of village and shops (Susanne trying on various pants and other clothes along the way, myself picking up the entire stock of Orbit chewing gum as I was out again). We also passed a nice church, but were hardly dressed for entering it. We then turned towards the beach and followed it south as far as it went. It ended in a rather rocky area that demanded a little active jumping and climbing before finally reaching a halt at a series of very large boulders stacked into the sea. Susanne sat down to soak up some sun while I went on a more advanced freeclimbing excursion to reach the stone furthest out. The sandals turned out to be quite good for climbing, but my cozy/pyjama pants are not barnacle proof and had a few extra holes by the time I was back with Susanne.
We walked north until we saw the first and best restaurant. Before the restaurants and beach-huts started, there were several expedition-grade vehicles parked and rigged for camping, among them a very nice 6x6 MAN military-style carrier with all kinds of kit mounted to it.
The restaurant, Cuba ("Where...time takes a break!"), was a welcome haven from the sun and we could rehydrate a little again. Simple rehydration turned to relaxation pur and after several hours, multiple glass bottles of coke, various fruit juices, and a bottle of mineral water; a very nice Mexican dish, yummy fries and a vanilla ice cream (made using packaged drinking water) with chocolate sauce for me and a vegeburger and salad for Susanne we finally managed to break free of the senseless gluttony and lazying around in the shadow of our roofed and raised little terrace and slowly move back home to the untel. While sitting there, it was interesting to note that the cows had learned from the dogs and were begging at the food tables standing down at the beach. One cow got a little too enthusiastic and pushed the patron clean off of his sunbed while requesting the remains of his food. Cows are too big to do dog-things.
First we passed by the beach hut we might take tomorrow to see how the front looked as well. Still looking good to us!
Back at our untel we claimed our laundry (less than Rs400) and were informed that we could not have the better room tonight as the drunk person was STILL sleeping, but after a few to-and-froms they managed to dig up a better room than the one we had. Now it is next door to the tattoo parlor and the window is facing out to the roofed bar(could order drinks directly through the window); the bathroom again wet. It is still a huge upgrade from what we had. The music from the bar was also a bonus here, playing western pop music. Cleaning up a little (I am still trying to get used to the lack of warm water) and getting into new clothes, and rigging up a clothes line for my still we clothes as Susanne jumped into the street to secure some thread so we could rig our mosquito netting later, we were ready for town again.
Susanne still wanted some comfortable loose-fitting pants, and coming past one shop she saw something that piqued her interest. As always, the store owner was quickly with us ready to explain everything we might need to know to choose his establishment as the place to leave a few rupees. To my great surprise, when Susanne declined his offers, he merely said "Sorry for the interruption" and vanished back into the shop. Amazing, completely unexpected after 2 weeks in Rajasthan. We also ventured inside the shop as Susanne was scouring it for legwear without interruption by the shopkeeper. I was treated to a chair and was soon in conversation with the man. Making a long clothes-trying-session short, we talked about anything from Kashmiri houseboats to world religions. He was a Muslim, but first of all a human being as he said, and he was saddened by all the hate and conflict among the various people and their religions. If more people were like him, I think the world would definitely be a much more peaceful place to live. Having myself had little contact with Islam, it was very nice to meet a non-extremist side of the faith. Susanne ended on two loose and cozy pants and we both left the shop quite spirited. We again headed down towards the beach for dinner and a few drinks and quickly found a nice place with good music and lights in many colors. Taking a seat as close to the water as possible (not that we could see much, the sun had set while we were getting ready earlier), a very friendly waiter took our orders.
Starting off with coke and mineral water for me and a lemon soda for Susanne, we took our time deciding on what to eat. I ended up with ordering a "special steak" with red wine sauce and mushrooms served with boiled vegetables and fried onions, and Susanne went with an Indian dish that was new to her and vegan. I cannot remember the name though. Food arrived after some time. It was truly well made, both hers and mine. After eating I was not full, but satisfied. Susanne being tired from her food and too full, opted not to get anything more to drink. I had to try the local spirit of course, and as they had my long time favorite drink - LIIT - I had to try that as well. That pretty much leads to the beginning of this entry. By now any disabling effects of the alcohol is gone and I am looking forward to getting some sleep. Hoping Ill be able to get up around 9, I should still be able to get almost 8 hours of sleep tonight. Maybe we get beach-hutted tomorrow?
Afloat
I never noticed our primary alarm today. The backup did its job 8:45 and we had just enough time to pack everything before being in the lobby at 10:00. The driver that was supposed to drive us to the houseboat had not yet arrived so we decided on a quick breakfast as it was standing ready in the restaurant. Food was OK, but I must admit that northern Indian food fits me a lot better. 10 minutes later I was back in the lobby to look out for our driver while Susanne could have a second plate of food. 5 minutes later she appeared as well. 10:30 we made our first phone call to the travel agency. Just 5 minutes and he would be there...
Shortly before 13:00 our hotel had found the address of the house boat we were booked in at, and they arranged an A/C taxi to take us there. This driver had none of the smoothness or skills shown by Sanji, and the ride was more of a tuktuk'ey experience than a nice drive. I fell asleep quite fast anyway and don't remember most of it. Susanne was sitting in the front (with seat belt, as law demands here) and I was in the back, where there was no seat belt again. Well, the seat belt was there, but the thick decorative carpet over the rear seats made it impossible to access the lock. I was not impressed.
Anyway, our not-so-elegant driver had more almost during the 1,5 hours drive than our entire Rajasthan trip, and I remember once waking up mid air on my way towards Susanne's seat as a white Tata Indica with yellow tourist plates (amazing what one notices while airborne) being "parked" not far in front of us, waiting for something else to move before it could continue. Towards this temporary roadblock we were heading at normal highway speeds on locked wheels (how I got airborne) with out driver mumbling something that I registered as prayers. Following the Indian automotive spirit, the white Tata we were about to plow through got a free lane and moved out of our ballistic path of impending destruction. Wheels were unlocked and I fell back into my seat and was sleeping moments later. It was all a lot less dramatic than it sounds, I should add. Everything happened in a very short time frame and I had no way to judge speed or distance properly where I was sort of gliding into the seat in front of me. One also becomes rather jaded after a few minutes in the traffic here, it is all far too chaotic to consider in any realistic way when it comes to risk potential and safety. London during the rush hours truly seems like a sedate suburb at noon compared to this.
We were dropped off at the boat and paid Rs1800 for the ride, we were told by our original driver that never showed that we will get this refunded by the owner of the boat (why from him, I am not sure. We were already so late that we didn't stop to ask about it then). Before we boarded our floating hotel we made sure that the boat owner arranged a taxi for us from the dock back to the train station so we wont miss our train in case our driver fails to shop up once more. We were also told by the boat owner that the travel agency had just that morning booked the boat ride, and that he had not even been paid, but that should be sorted soon anyway as he had just called them and they would have it sorted in 5 minutes...
After balancing up a single plank (loudly protesting against the combined weight of me, my backpack and my shoulder bag) to get to the bow I was finally starting to relax. Boats are nice. The boats here are quite different from the ones I am used to in Norway/Europe/western hemisphere. A wooden hull that's usually.. uhm, sharp? in each end lays quite low in the water, the superstructure is also made of wood but in a rather houseish-way for comfort and covered with bamboo on the outside for style. The interior is also quite housey, with our bedroom being built like a hotel room and not like a room in a vessel floating about. As a result, our two doors wont close properly, none of the locks match up, and the bathroom is missing a few tiles that have fallen off due to vibration - while the front of the boat is more or less vibration free, it is impossible to stay in our bedroom or bathroom for any amount of time while the engine is rumbling - its like a continuous earthquake. Our boat also had a nice upper deck towards the bow where we had an excellent panoramic view. The rudder is located on the bow with a little wooden box with a pillow on as chair and two levers are mounted close by for force and direction of thrust. Engines remind me of my dads old busses soundwise. While the boats here seem rather sluggish (or, as I thought of them, swimming Hutt's) they are surprisingly maneuverable. They have to be, as they are as uninterested in following any form of rules or regulations on the water as they are on land. I have no idea if traffic here is righthanded or lefthanded
We went up to our observation deck again and were served tea an hour or so later. It was so nice and peaceful sitting up there floating away with all the other slugs through the maze of waterways that Backwaters turns out to be. After some time there were only a handful of boats left and the channels got smaller. Every now and then there was a small settlement along the banks consisting of 2-5 buildings and a ferry jetty. Loud single deck ferried roamed the water at high speeds throwing huge waves over the man made sides of the canals and into the gardens. When approaching a jetty they would keep the engines firewalled until the bow was about to reach the jetty and then they would thrown them full astern. This was the boat was stopped in less than a ships length and resting peacefully along the jetty with people jumping in and out like a city bus.
There were also lots of smaller boats around, little fishing boats, canoes, slightly larger affairs either powered by man or machine with a little roof over them for sightseeing in the smaller channels, various working boats for all kinds of purposes and little cargo barges.
We made a short stop at a kiosk along the water, one of our three crew members had to buy something that looked like food. The boat was just slowly drifting along the bank until he caught up with us a dozen meters further down and jumped aboard.
I have no idea what time it was, but we turned around and headed back the way we had come. I laid down on a bed at the back of our observation platform to relax a little. I was barely asleep before I was brashly awoken by the strangest of sounds. We had hit land, but not with out hull. Docking next to a village they had misjudged their stopping distance and had rammed the plastic tarp covered bamboo roof I was sleeping under into the branches of a palm tree. That was a new experience.
They backed up and got us positioned properly before making the ship fast to said palm tree. I joined Susanne for a walk around the village. Slightly larger than most others we had seen, this one had maybe 10-15 houses along the bank and on what turned out to be a little "island" that we had docked with. It was separated from the main bank with a little canal about 3 meters wide we had to cross balancing on a tree trunk. The entire village was so located along the bank with only 50cm or so to walk on between fences and the murky overgrown water a little below. There were also several goats, one of which had made it its mission to push anyone that didn't feed it into the water. It was a very small goat however and it had not yet realised that it would have to gain some speed to build up momentum so I ended up just petting it as I walked by. It seemed confused. People here seemed nice too, a little reserved until you greet them but then they light up and want to tell you everything about their village - in Hindi and beyond. There were also a few children here. One girl asked very nicely for a coin which she got (we then got her name, got to see her mom and were shown the outside of her house), and a couple of boys and a very little girl that could barely walk got their picture taken. Again, a Polaroid camera here would be great. The English level among the kids seem a lot better than in Rajasthan. There are a lot of schools along the banks here, guess that helps.
Many here have TVs as well, that might also have something to do with it. Every house (almost, anyway) have a satellite dish and as we were floating past we could hear broadcast music and TV shows from most of them.
After our walk we went back to our boat and took positions up in our observation lounge again. It was slowly getting dark and we enjoyed the sunset. Food was to be served at 8 so we had well over an hour left - not that we were overly hungry after the lunch yet.
As the sun set, torches were lit along the other bank. Music was being played in several places, and we noticed processions with torches along the bank. Fireworks were audible and at times visible as a distant flash somewhere in the area. There was more music and singing and the procession came back into view heading the other way. This time "our" procession also launched some fireworks and had some sort of show with fire. Ending their show there they marched back and as they met up with a similar procession coming from the other direction they went into the jungle. As we went downstairs for dinner we could still hear them singing and playing. Just as we were done eating there was a huge fireworks display and the show hit its climax. It was gone as suddenly as it had started.
They turned off the lights on the ship after food and Susanne and I spent the next hour relaxing and chatting on our top deck. It was getting late so we retired to our cabin. The generator was awoken and the air-condition came to life. If it wasn't for all the mosquitoes and whatever else there is out there we would both have slept in the bed out on deck, but a nice air-conditioned room is almost as good - especially when it is free of bugs.
Shortly before 13:00 our hotel had found the address of the house boat we were booked in at, and they arranged an A/C taxi to take us there. This driver had none of the smoothness or skills shown by Sanji, and the ride was more of a tuktuk'ey experience than a nice drive. I fell asleep quite fast anyway and don't remember most of it. Susanne was sitting in the front (with seat belt, as law demands here) and I was in the back, where there was no seat belt again. Well, the seat belt was there, but the thick decorative carpet over the rear seats made it impossible to access the lock. I was not impressed.
Anyway, our not-so-elegant driver had more almost during the 1,5 hours drive than our entire Rajasthan trip, and I remember once waking up mid air on my way towards Susanne's seat as a white Tata Indica with yellow tourist plates (amazing what one notices while airborne) being "parked" not far in front of us, waiting for something else to move before it could continue. Towards this temporary roadblock we were heading at normal highway speeds on locked wheels (how I got airborne) with out driver mumbling something that I registered as prayers. Following the Indian automotive spirit, the white Tata we were about to plow through got a free lane and moved out of our ballistic path of impending destruction. Wheels were unlocked and I fell back into my seat and was sleeping moments later. It was all a lot less dramatic than it sounds, I should add. Everything happened in a very short time frame and I had no way to judge speed or distance properly where I was sort of gliding into the seat in front of me. One also becomes rather jaded after a few minutes in the traffic here, it is all far too chaotic to consider in any realistic way when it comes to risk potential and safety. London during the rush hours truly seems like a sedate suburb at noon compared to this.
We were dropped off at the boat and paid Rs1800 for the ride, we were told by our original driver that never showed that we will get this refunded by the owner of the boat (why from him, I am not sure. We were already so late that we didn't stop to ask about it then). Before we boarded our floating hotel we made sure that the boat owner arranged a taxi for us from the dock back to the train station so we wont miss our train in case our driver fails to shop up once more. We were also told by the boat owner that the travel agency had just that morning booked the boat ride, and that he had not even been paid, but that should be sorted soon anyway as he had just called them and they would have it sorted in 5 minutes...
After balancing up a single plank (loudly protesting against the combined weight of me, my backpack and my shoulder bag) to get to the bow I was finally starting to relax. Boats are nice. The boats here are quite different from the ones I am used to in Norway/Europe/western hemisphere. A wooden hull that's usually.. uhm, sharp? in each end lays quite low in the water, the superstructure is also made of wood but in a rather houseish-way for comfort and covered with bamboo on the outside for style. The interior is also quite housey, with our bedroom being built like a hotel room and not like a room in a vessel floating about. As a result, our two doors wont close properly, none of the locks match up, and the bathroom is missing a few tiles that have fallen off due to vibration - while the front of the boat is more or less vibration free, it is impossible to stay in our bedroom or bathroom for any amount of time while the engine is rumbling - its like a continuous earthquake. Our boat also had a nice upper deck towards the bow where we had an excellent panoramic view. The rudder is located on the bow with a little wooden box with a pillow on as chair and two levers are mounted close by for force and direction of thrust. Engines remind me of my dads old busses soundwise. While the boats here seem rather sluggish (or, as I thought of them, swimming Hutt's) they are surprisingly maneuverable. They have to be, as they are as uninterested in following any form of rules or regulations on the water as they are on land. I have no idea if traffic here is righthanded or lefthanded
We went up to our observation deck again and were served tea an hour or so later. It was so nice and peaceful sitting up there floating away with all the other slugs through the maze of waterways that Backwaters turns out to be. After some time there were only a handful of boats left and the channels got smaller. Every now and then there was a small settlement along the banks consisting of 2-5 buildings and a ferry jetty. Loud single deck ferried roamed the water at high speeds throwing huge waves over the man made sides of the canals and into the gardens. When approaching a jetty they would keep the engines firewalled until the bow was about to reach the jetty and then they would thrown them full astern. This was the boat was stopped in less than a ships length and resting peacefully along the jetty with people jumping in and out like a city bus.
There were also lots of smaller boats around, little fishing boats, canoes, slightly larger affairs either powered by man or machine with a little roof over them for sightseeing in the smaller channels, various working boats for all kinds of purposes and little cargo barges.
We made a short stop at a kiosk along the water, one of our three crew members had to buy something that looked like food. The boat was just slowly drifting along the bank until he caught up with us a dozen meters further down and jumped aboard.
I have no idea what time it was, but we turned around and headed back the way we had come. I laid down on a bed at the back of our observation platform to relax a little. I was barely asleep before I was brashly awoken by the strangest of sounds. We had hit land, but not with out hull. Docking next to a village they had misjudged their stopping distance and had rammed the plastic tarp covered bamboo roof I was sleeping under into the branches of a palm tree. That was a new experience.
They backed up and got us positioned properly before making the ship fast to said palm tree. I joined Susanne for a walk around the village. Slightly larger than most others we had seen, this one had maybe 10-15 houses along the bank and on what turned out to be a little "island" that we had docked with. It was separated from the main bank with a little canal about 3 meters wide we had to cross balancing on a tree trunk. The entire village was so located along the bank with only 50cm or so to walk on between fences and the murky overgrown water a little below. There were also several goats, one of which had made it its mission to push anyone that didn't feed it into the water. It was a very small goat however and it had not yet realised that it would have to gain some speed to build up momentum so I ended up just petting it as I walked by. It seemed confused. People here seemed nice too, a little reserved until you greet them but then they light up and want to tell you everything about their village - in Hindi and beyond. There were also a few children here. One girl asked very nicely for a coin which she got (we then got her name, got to see her mom and were shown the outside of her house), and a couple of boys and a very little girl that could barely walk got their picture taken. Again, a Polaroid camera here would be great. The English level among the kids seem a lot better than in Rajasthan. There are a lot of schools along the banks here, guess that helps.
Many here have TVs as well, that might also have something to do with it. Every house (almost, anyway) have a satellite dish and as we were floating past we could hear broadcast music and TV shows from most of them.
After our walk we went back to our boat and took positions up in our observation lounge again. It was slowly getting dark and we enjoyed the sunset. Food was to be served at 8 so we had well over an hour left - not that we were overly hungry after the lunch yet.
As the sun set, torches were lit along the other bank. Music was being played in several places, and we noticed processions with torches along the bank. Fireworks were audible and at times visible as a distant flash somewhere in the area. There was more music and singing and the procession came back into view heading the other way. This time "our" procession also launched some fireworks and had some sort of show with fire. Ending their show there they marched back and as they met up with a similar procession coming from the other direction they went into the jungle. As we went downstairs for dinner we could still hear them singing and playing. Just as we were done eating there was a huge fireworks display and the show hit its climax. It was gone as suddenly as it had started.
They turned off the lights on the ship after food and Susanne and I spent the next hour relaxing and chatting on our top deck. It was getting late so we retired to our cabin. The generator was awoken and the air-condition came to life. If it wasn't for all the mosquitoes and whatever else there is out there we would both have slept in the bed out on deck, but a nice air-conditioned room is almost as good - especially when it is free of bugs.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Is it spicy, ma'am?
I woke up once around 5, the train was all quiet except for the A/C fans. Everyone appeared to be sleeping as I snuck through the car, and the door next to the restrooms was open. We were stopped at some small platform, but there were no-one about. It was nice walking about a bit, all alone. Doesent happen very often in India I think. After what was probably only a few minutes, but it felt like a private little eternity. The locomotive sounded its horn and I jumped aboard as it slowly woke to life and started moving. I was sleeping again shortly after, far deeper than I had been earlier. Susanne woke me up around 8. The others in our compartment had gotten off already so we had it to ourself, was practical for packing all our stuff again. We both skipped breakfast, neither of us were hungry and we were not sure how long it was until we arrived at our station. Susanne got a lot more done on her blog (should be coming up about the same time as this goes live, http://cosmaasworld.blogspot.com/ ) and I finally had a chance to send the update I wrote last night via email as it turns out that the Eee takes an aweful lot of time parsing the java used in the Blogger text entry field.
We arrived in Ernakulam Junction ca. 10. The heat was just as striking as we expected it to be, my phone being of the oppinion that it was no less than 31 degrees celsius.
We were to be picked up by someone from our travel agency, but saw noone as we came into the station building. Susanne called our agent, and he explained that the car was 5 minutes out. "Oh no", we thought, remembering the "just another 5 minutes" in Delhi two weeks ago. Making a long wait short, several phonecalls, "5 minutes later"'s and well over 1 hour later, we were finally told to take a taxi to the hotel as the car was still stuck in traffic. Indian efficieny at work. 5 minutes later I got an SMS with the hotel adress and as soon as we set foot outside the trainstation the taxidrivers descended unto us like hawks for a hare. We found someone who knew where it was and the price seemed right so we jumped in. Finally we got to ride in one of the old cars, an Ambassador Grand (no idea who makes them, will have to wikipedia that later.) A piece of Indian history on wheels. I sounds like a tractor, drives like a spunge and is as comfortable as a car can get without wearing one of the German or British luxury badges.
It said in the hotel voucher that the hotel was ~2km from the trainstation. 2km in India is a lot further than in Norway as one drive around each and ever other car, scooter, tuktuk, bus and pedestrian trying to get in your way. After asking a few people along the way our taxidriver found our hotel and we got unloaded. This hotel is stylish, posh even. In the delicately decorated lobby there was a well dressed smiling lady ready to check us in, a first for us on our journey. The problem was that we never got our hotel vouchers in Agra like we should have, and they could not find us in the system. A few phonecalls later (they sorted everything, we were just sitting in the nicely airconditioned lobby and waiting) and we were shown to our room. As far as Indian standards go, our room is about as luxurious as the Owners Suite my dad and I booked on our Oslo - Kiel - Oslo cruise last year. While we dont have the minibar of Agra nor the WiFi connection of Udaipur, this is by far the cleanest and nicest and most exclusively furnished room (and hotel) yet. The city of Cochin in general seems a lot more clean and the people come across as far friendlier than up in Rajasthan. There are also far less animals in the street. I've seen only one goat so far and he was trodding along in a backstreet. Perhaps the fact that cows are on the menu here keeps them off the street.
After the long trainride and the uninviting shower in Agra, it was so nice with a long warm shower. Sadly it was too late for laundry (would have been delivered tomorrow evening), so I am rather short on clean clothes now. Good thing I bought those clothes back in Jaisalmer, they are also perfect for this heat. We then ventured up to the rooftop restaurant but found it completely deserted - even the furniture was gone. The nice ladies in the reception directed us to a restaurant/café on the groundfloor. The service was all one could wish for and then some - our waiter was even putting food from the bowls onto my plate. I went for a nice mutton roast with spices and fried coconut leaves, a local speciality.
Susanne tried a platter of various traditional Kerala meals. While my food was spicy, hers was bordering on live fire. Her face was sort of glowing in this interesting red hue and her lips/mouth was quite swollen. Our ever-present waiter came over and asked in the most natural way possible; "Is it spicy, ma'am?". Imagining the steam slowly rising out of her ears was by no means a long leap for the imagination, but the waiter was nice and she tried her best not to falter from the spices as she admitted that it was probably a little too spicy for her taste.
Susanne tried their watermelon juice and ananas juice. The watermelon one was really nice. I ordered 7UP and got Pepsi, but it was still nice after the heat outside. Once we were done eating we went back to our room to repack our bags for warm wather excursions and went downstairs. Before going outside we had the reception change two Rs1000 notes into 100s as they are easier to use here. We then inquired about the closest medical store (I had read that it was the best place to purchase chewing gum here) and how best to get to the boat going to Fort Cochin (an area, old town, not a fort).
I am addicted to chewing gum and I had the last one I brought from Germany on the train this morning, so it was a welcome sight finding a pack of Orbit. We then tuk-tuked to the boat jetty and got in line. Their idea of efficiency here is to only start selling tickets once the boat has docked. This way there is a long queue waiting, only one person selling tickets to the two lines (gents in one, ladies in the other) and lots of running. Susanne had found a nice Indian couple in the ladies queue, both were in IT and as the queue went on she got us invited to their wedding in Mumbai sometime around xmas this year. Perhaps combining that with Thailand? I really have to come up with some devious plot to earn enough money to keep up with her traveling plans. Anyway, as the boat arrived, Susannes newfound friend bought us all tickets and we ran aboard the boat as one of the last to make it (still a long queue left). The boat was nice, an old wodden contraption with a roof, no windows. The engine rumbled along in the middle, fenced in but not boxed in. I am not sure how long it took to cross the harbour to get to our destination but it was quite some minutes. Once there we made our way into the streets. The Indian couple adviced us where to go and we found another tuktuk. Along the way the driver asked us if we could do him a favour and have a 5-minute looksee in a shop along the way, as he got points every time he brought someone there. We agreed (the shop didnt look shady) and it was actually worth a visit. Susanne found a nice spice box but it was too big to bring and we wouldnt have time to get it shipped before leaving for Backwaters tomorrow. We tuktuked on to the Kachi Arts Café (or so), and had a look around. We stopped by a nice perfume shop where Susanne picked up a bottle of pink Kerala flower, smells really nice. We then made our way back towards the water and walked along the beach as the sun set. While the people do seem nicer here than in Raj., I was still not comfortable walking around too much in the dark and we found a tuktuk to take us back to the ferry jetty. Like the other one he asked if he could stop by a shop where we could have a looksee but we declined as it was getting late (turned out to be the very same shop). At the ferry terminal we were among the first in the line, but it was quite a wait. In Susannes book, the "Rough guide to India", it said that the ferry leaves "every 20 to 50 minutes". I am not sure how long we waited, but it was getting cooler so it was OK. Once we had the tickets we were shuffled into a large cage where we waited some more until our boat came. Then everyone in the cage made a run for the boat to get the best places.
The cruise across the harbor at night was really nice with all the lights. The seem to have a far more evolved traffic culture on the water than on land, so there were none of the "almosts" we were used to from the streets. Back on our side we tracked down a tuktuk, but the driver was unsure about our destination. Asking some others there he said he knew where it was. Once we were on our way, he explained that it was just hard for him to read it on the phone as he could hardly see anything when it got dark. Hm.
After picking up a bottle of mango juice for Susanne (she is hooked), we went back to our hotel and awoke the airconditoner in our room. Susanne says she is still full, and I think Ill just have something light delivered to our room later. If we make it down to the foyer before it gets too late we should be able to upload the pictures from the last days as well.
We arrived in Ernakulam Junction ca. 10. The heat was just as striking as we expected it to be, my phone being of the oppinion that it was no less than 31 degrees celsius.
We were to be picked up by someone from our travel agency, but saw noone as we came into the station building. Susanne called our agent, and he explained that the car was 5 minutes out. "Oh no", we thought, remembering the "just another 5 minutes" in Delhi two weeks ago. Making a long wait short, several phonecalls, "5 minutes later"'s and well over 1 hour later, we were finally told to take a taxi to the hotel as the car was still stuck in traffic. Indian efficieny at work. 5 minutes later I got an SMS with the hotel adress and as soon as we set foot outside the trainstation the taxidrivers descended unto us like hawks for a hare. We found someone who knew where it was and the price seemed right so we jumped in. Finally we got to ride in one of the old cars, an Ambassador Grand (no idea who makes them, will have to wikipedia that later.) A piece of Indian history on wheels. I sounds like a tractor, drives like a spunge and is as comfortable as a car can get without wearing one of the German or British luxury badges.
It said in the hotel voucher that the hotel was ~2km from the trainstation. 2km in India is a lot further than in Norway as one drive around each and ever other car, scooter, tuktuk, bus and pedestrian trying to get in your way. After asking a few people along the way our taxidriver found our hotel and we got unloaded. This hotel is stylish, posh even. In the delicately decorated lobby there was a well dressed smiling lady ready to check us in, a first for us on our journey. The problem was that we never got our hotel vouchers in Agra like we should have, and they could not find us in the system. A few phonecalls later (they sorted everything, we were just sitting in the nicely airconditioned lobby and waiting) and we were shown to our room. As far as Indian standards go, our room is about as luxurious as the Owners Suite my dad and I booked on our Oslo - Kiel - Oslo cruise last year. While we dont have the minibar of Agra nor the WiFi connection of Udaipur, this is by far the cleanest and nicest and most exclusively furnished room (and hotel) yet. The city of Cochin in general seems a lot more clean and the people come across as far friendlier than up in Rajasthan. There are also far less animals in the street. I've seen only one goat so far and he was trodding along in a backstreet. Perhaps the fact that cows are on the menu here keeps them off the street.
After the long trainride and the uninviting shower in Agra, it was so nice with a long warm shower. Sadly it was too late for laundry (would have been delivered tomorrow evening), so I am rather short on clean clothes now. Good thing I bought those clothes back in Jaisalmer, they are also perfect for this heat. We then ventured up to the rooftop restaurant but found it completely deserted - even the furniture was gone. The nice ladies in the reception directed us to a restaurant/café on the groundfloor. The service was all one could wish for and then some - our waiter was even putting food from the bowls onto my plate. I went for a nice mutton roast with spices and fried coconut leaves, a local speciality.
Susanne tried a platter of various traditional Kerala meals. While my food was spicy, hers was bordering on live fire. Her face was sort of glowing in this interesting red hue and her lips/mouth was quite swollen. Our ever-present waiter came over and asked in the most natural way possible; "Is it spicy, ma'am?". Imagining the steam slowly rising out of her ears was by no means a long leap for the imagination, but the waiter was nice and she tried her best not to falter from the spices as she admitted that it was probably a little too spicy for her taste.
Susanne tried their watermelon juice and ananas juice. The watermelon one was really nice. I ordered 7UP and got Pepsi, but it was still nice after the heat outside. Once we were done eating we went back to our room to repack our bags for warm wather excursions and went downstairs. Before going outside we had the reception change two Rs1000 notes into 100s as they are easier to use here. We then inquired about the closest medical store (I had read that it was the best place to purchase chewing gum here) and how best to get to the boat going to Fort Cochin (an area, old town, not a fort).
I am addicted to chewing gum and I had the last one I brought from Germany on the train this morning, so it was a welcome sight finding a pack of Orbit. We then tuk-tuked to the boat jetty and got in line. Their idea of efficiency here is to only start selling tickets once the boat has docked. This way there is a long queue waiting, only one person selling tickets to the two lines (gents in one, ladies in the other) and lots of running. Susanne had found a nice Indian couple in the ladies queue, both were in IT and as the queue went on she got us invited to their wedding in Mumbai sometime around xmas this year. Perhaps combining that with Thailand? I really have to come up with some devious plot to earn enough money to keep up with her traveling plans. Anyway, as the boat arrived, Susannes newfound friend bought us all tickets and we ran aboard the boat as one of the last to make it (still a long queue left). The boat was nice, an old wodden contraption with a roof, no windows. The engine rumbled along in the middle, fenced in but not boxed in. I am not sure how long it took to cross the harbour to get to our destination but it was quite some minutes. Once there we made our way into the streets. The Indian couple adviced us where to go and we found another tuktuk. Along the way the driver asked us if we could do him a favour and have a 5-minute looksee in a shop along the way, as he got points every time he brought someone there. We agreed (the shop didnt look shady) and it was actually worth a visit. Susanne found a nice spice box but it was too big to bring and we wouldnt have time to get it shipped before leaving for Backwaters tomorrow. We tuktuked on to the Kachi Arts Café (or so), and had a look around. We stopped by a nice perfume shop where Susanne picked up a bottle of pink Kerala flower, smells really nice. We then made our way back towards the water and walked along the beach as the sun set. While the people do seem nicer here than in Raj., I was still not comfortable walking around too much in the dark and we found a tuktuk to take us back to the ferry jetty. Like the other one he asked if he could stop by a shop where we could have a looksee but we declined as it was getting late (turned out to be the very same shop). At the ferry terminal we were among the first in the line, but it was quite a wait. In Susannes book, the "Rough guide to India", it said that the ferry leaves "every 20 to 50 minutes". I am not sure how long we waited, but it was getting cooler so it was OK. Once we had the tickets we were shuffled into a large cage where we waited some more until our boat came. Then everyone in the cage made a run for the boat to get the best places.
The cruise across the harbor at night was really nice with all the lights. The seem to have a far more evolved traffic culture on the water than on land, so there were none of the "almosts" we were used to from the streets. Back on our side we tracked down a tuktuk, but the driver was unsure about our destination. Asking some others there he said he knew where it was. Once we were on our way, he explained that it was just hard for him to read it on the phone as he could hardly see anything when it got dark. Hm.
After picking up a bottle of mango juice for Susanne (she is hooked), we went back to our hotel and awoke the airconditoner in our room. Susanne says she is still full, and I think Ill just have something light delivered to our room later. If we make it down to the foyer before it gets too late we should be able to upload the pictures from the last days as well.
Train!
A few notes and things Id like to note down to remember, as well as
the 12th and the train ride.
the 12th and the train ride.
In Agra we had a bakery next door to our hotel. Susanne found a couple
of different items that both tasted really nice.
I bought a box of Pringles the other day, at Rs220 (or Rs190 when I
found that a little hard) it was still more than most vegetarian
dinners here. Still, it tasted really nice. Susanne has also been
stocking up on Oreos here, they are using the American recipe here so
they are without milk. The chocolate ones taste better than the
regulars.
A few day ago, in the car, stopped at some roadside trade station, I
woke up from my normal snooze. And looked out the window. And looked
straight into two endlessly deep black eyes attached to the toothy
side of a Cobra. The first thing I did was glancing up at my window
(while keeping one and a half eye at the black tube of death possibly
considering me for lunch) to see it if was closed. It was. I then
slowly moved my knee to flip the door lock. "Susanne" I said. "Look,
snake". Sure, it was only 50cm long, drugges and in the basked of some
lady apparently wanting a few rupies to let us pet her priced
posession. It was still a snake, and it was just outside my window.
There were no exchange of rupies and no petting. I dont think there
were even any pictures. I was happy when Sanji came back and drove
off. Bye snake.
In the morning of the 12th we got up late. After snoozing unusually
long even for us, we got up just in time to get everything packed
before leaving just after 10. We got our seat numbers from the hotel
manager and I paid for the water bottles I robbed from the minibar in
case it would be hard to come by on the train (as well as a mango
juice for Sue). First stop was the post office. A few rupees changed
hand and none of the armed military guards (one arriving on a sweet
Royal Enfield as we got there) shot us as we snuck in the rear
entrance. Our driver was a regular there, and this way we beat the
queue and managed to get everything done in time. Like the rest of
India, the mail system is.. inefficient. We arrived at, circa, 10:30,
and left 11:45. Everything took time (but a lot less time for us than
for those stuck in the actual waiting lines). First there was
weighing, then there was filling out customs documents. Then there was
random waiting for a while as someone vanished with Rs200 to pack the
items anbut not the items themselve. After some time the items
vanished too. After more waiting they came back all wrapped up. I
would not have trusted that kind of wrapping with anying breakable,
but for cloth I guess it should be fine. Then there was writing of
adress, more weighing and then paying. What would have taken a very
minutes (+ packing) in Norway somehow took more than an hour here. At
least it was that much less to lug around the rest of our trip.
After the post office it was time to give our driver a little
something. Neither Susanne nor I am good with the whole tipping thing.
During the last days our trip of we had learned that our driver was
actually paying for his food and sleeping arrangements himself most of
the nights, which was a surprise to use as we were under the
impression that this was already paid when we booked the trip. While
it was impossible for us to get him to say anything regarding what a
"proper" or "good" tip would be, we got him to give us an estimate of
Rs500 / day for his food and lodging. So, for roughly 10 day, that
would be Rs5000 already. I was very happy with everything he had done
for us, my experience of India would definitely not have been the same
without him. I think Susanne shared my thought on that matter. We
ended up deciding on a total of Rs10000, which would be roughly €170.
Excluding the 5000 spent during the trip, the 5000 extra would equal
half an average monthly salary as far as we were informed. I only wish
I could have afforded to give him more. I will definitely recommend
him, and it is not impossible that we come back to India in 2012 for
Kashmir and other northern regions with him as our guide and driver
again. Like all other Indians we've dealt with financially it was
impossible to tell if he found it OK, too much or too little. His
general mood did not drop at least, so I guess thats a good sign.
He then dropped us off at the train station half an hour early. He
also arranged for two carriers. While I wouldnt have had a problem
carrying my back to the train, I very much appreciated that they would
also make sure we got to the right seats in the right wagon in the
right train and for that I was very comfortable paying Rs200 for. Once
we were positioned on a platform the carriers vanished. Susanne
vanished a few minutes later to inspect a fast food joint closeby. I
had hardly turned around before one of the ever present hawkers were
uppon me. I kindly declined a shoe-shine, but as he was about to walk
off, he noticed the tears in my shoulderbag. I almost shooed him off
out of habit, but reconsidered. That was actually one of the things I
would like to have sorted here. He wanted Rs50, which was nothing
compared to what I paid for the bag in Finland all those years ago.
Susanne came back with food, and I vent off to see what they might
have for me, foodwise. I ended up with two decrusted cheese/butter
sandwiches and two somethingsomethings made out of what resembled
butterdough with vegetable fillings. These were even heated in a
microwave. I cannot remember what I paid, but it was not much at all.
Coming back to Susanne and my bag-repair-in-progress I found that the
price had gone up to Rs200 as he had found more things on it that
needed fixing. At first I was a little annoyed that he had talked
himself into more money when the basic reapirs would have been fine
(Sorry Susanne), but, decided that it would probably be better having
it completely repaired anyway. I find it funny that I now have a large
blue carbine hook permanently embroided to the side of my bag, as I
used it for repairing one side of the bag back in the desert. It is
unique now. He also managed to get another Rs100 for a shoeshine, the
enterprising little Indian. I am sure he needed the money more than
me, and my boots are now as shiney as they were that cold December day
in Oslo shortly before Christmas and the start of my adventure. Right,
thats a note. Everyone in Oslo told me that the boots I wanted would
be too warm for India. I am happy I did not listen to them. My boots
were nothing short of perfect, comfortable with all the walking, nice
and warm in the cold mornings and saved my ankles more than onces in
the rough stairs that are leading to and from every temple and
fortress and palace. Norwegian mountain hiking boots are ideal for
Indian travels. If they DO get too warm down south (its already 35
degrees + outside during the day according to the weather data on my
phone, not that we feel it much in our airconditioned train) I also
picked up a set of Gobi hiking sandals in Cologne before leaving.
The time of departure of our train drew close and a train was arriving
at our platform. Our carriers were not to be seen, though. Susanne
went over to ask a couple of tourists standing close by. One of them
were German! We got it explained how the overhead information board
displayed data and that it would cycle between Hindi and English. That
way we realised that the train standing there was not ours, and
shortly after the train left, the carriers came to tell us the same
thing. Now that we had the information board to look at, we realised
that we were in for a little wait. Only 30 minutes or so, however.
Another two trains arrived but neither matched our train number. ~40
minutes later the display changed to Arriving, and another 5 minutes
train and carriers arrived at the same time. We were guided to our
seats, made sure everything was there and paid them. We had gotten the
top bunks and I climbed up and started making myself comfortable -
building a little den. Carbine hooks should never be underestimated,
and one of them are now securing my shoulder bag to one of the roof
mounting points for my bed. I also extended the power outlet in the
train, so we have to outlets accessible from up here. I was lucky with
the extender I brought, it was just a random thought as I was checking
to see that everything was packed and it proved extremely useful as we
have often only had access to one socket in the hotels and other
places. Linen and blankets were distributed and I made my bed ready.
Only one of the bottom bunks were taken, by a nice young Indian from
up north. We sat "downstairs" with him and chatted for some time until
I retreated to my bunk for "taking the relax" as Sanji would have
said.
I started reading a little on my Kindle (Sacred Stone by Clive
Cussler, the last book I had to read in the Oregon Files series), and
started Spotiy on my phone. Spotify I have been using quite a bit
here. Often I have found that plugging in the hearphones is the only
way to get some mental privacy here, the walls are always so thin.
Falling asleep with Rammstein and waking up with Beach Boys a couple
of hours later, I climbed down to Susanne who was sitting on the other
side of the hallway looking out of the window studying the landscape.
I joined her on the opposing seat and enjoyed the view until sunset.
We must have switched to diesel at some point, as there were no longer
any poles for electricity and there was a thick black cloud following
us a short distance away from the window. A train employee came around
and took dinner orders. We both opted for the "veg" option. I got
quite a bit further in my book before food arrived, and we moved over
to our little cabin. Each cabin consists of 2 beds suspended under the
roof, and two "backrest
-cum-beds" that can either be a bed with the seatback folded down of a
couch that comfortably holds 3 people when the seatback is folded up.
The table is quite small so we used the space on the couch between us
to set up our meal. we were served three alufoil containers and a
plastic cup of water. The larger container held rice, two roti and a
small bag of pickle. Each of the two smaller containers held different
kinds of food. One was a nice thick sort of vegetable mix, based on
potato (aloo). The other was more of a soup based on lentils (dal).
While the aloosomething was spicy, the dal was the closest I hope I
will ever come to eating red-glowing lava.
Still, it made me full. At some point after eating, someone who had
booked the couch/bed we were sitting on arrived so we retreated
"upstairs". It was not just a "someone" actually, but what appeared to
be a revered holy man, or somesuch. The easiest way to describe him
would be "Father Christmas" dressed in orange and decorated with
flowers thread onto a long string. The goblins were replaced by a
whole menagerie of Indian caretakers, and he was constantly getting
his legs massaged and everything else taken care of. I must have
fallen asleep sometime before midnight, as the person sleeping under
me was supposed to get off around that time. Before heading off into
dreamland though, I had to bite the sour apple as they say and finally
give the funny "Indian style" crouching toilet a go for the first time
since arriving here. I was actually less problematic than I had feared
but with my bad knee it is not the best of solutions for me. I did see
a glimmer of hope as each of the two toilets on the end of the car I
visited were marked "Indian Style" with a sign on the door, and a
placard inside said something to the effect of "Do not leave the seats
on Western Style toilets wet". Western Style sounded good.
I woke up as someone said "10!" out loud and clear, the number of my
bunk. Food?! I had forgotten than I had ordered breakfast sometime
after dinner. I got another of the large alufoil packages. This time
it had half an omelette and three slices of freshly sliced white
bread. Crude, but yammy. Susanne went for the Indian Breakfast; I am
not sure what it was but she said it tasted nice. Not long after
having finished my food, there was a person walking by selling more
bread and omelette. Thats aslo worthy of a note actually - during the
day there is an even stream of people selling stuff walking through
the coridors. "Coffee!" "Chai!" "Chips and bisquits!" "Cold drinks!"
and so on and so on. We have tried some of the dirrefent snacks. I
especially liked this one thing that was a cross between the two
different styles of breadrolls we have in norway (rundstykke, bolle).
It had the taste approximating the first and the consistency of the
latter. Anyway, as the "Bread, Omelette! Omelette, Bread,
Omelette!"-vendor was coming back I took the chance to grab a couple
of boxes more. I only had 500-bills though and the vendor was unable
to exchange, but before I realised what happened one of the aids of
our orange father christmas had exhanged it with 100s. Thank you,
whomever you were! After 9 slices of bread with omelette I was truly
"satt" as they say in German. Susanne talked me out of bed and back
into the chairs as soon as the holy person and his entourage had
gotten out. I did venture down the other end of the carriage and was
happy to find that one of the toilets there were of the "Western
Style". I finished my book as the day went on, and I've just started
another one I bought before leaving Germany, the latest in the Dirk
Pitt-series from the same author as before. If someone remembers the
movie Sahara, it is based on an earlier book in the same series. At
one point we got a new bedbug in our compartment, be he was/is mostly
sleeping. Lunch arrived, it was pretty much identical our our dinner
last night, just with a slightly different makeup of the two dishes.
Sauce was still impossibly spicy. I then paid for both our lunches and
my upcoming dinner to save the guy taking order from having to procure
too many small bills. Even my 100s are a little large here.
Shortly before 8, when food arrived, we stopped somewhere in northern
Goa and a lot of people got off. Susanne had spent most of the time
after sunset to write on her blog and the Eee was running low on power
so we went back up into our beds. My dinner arrived shortly after,
while SUsanne had not ordered one as she was still full from lunch.
She said. Before eating half my dinner. Women. A lady boarded the
train and is now occupying the other bed downstairs so we are "stuck"
up here. The rooflight has been out most of the day as the guy under
me was mostly sleeping anyway. There are still night-lights for each
bed though and they cast a cozy dim yellow glow on the beds. I got
more reading done and Susanne got more writing done until she wanted
to get some rest. Now I'm happily tapping away on it writing this. I
am sitting directly under the A/C outlet as the roof is getting warm,
I am quite comfortable where I am though. It is roughly a quarter past
10 in the evening and I guess I go to sleep soon too. If I am lucky
Ill be able to post this tonight, it all depends on my ability to find
a cellular signal for long enough to upload it. Perhaps we will have
internet in the hotel in Cochin tomorrow so we can dump some more
photos on Flickr. Again Im stuck in notepad and I wont have the time
to do proofreading in Chrome while posting this so I am sorry for all
the typos I am sure are still lurking around here.
*edit: I never got it to work so I fell asleep around midnight. Now
its 9 soon and Im trying again.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
short update
In train towards Cochin, been here since 1300 yesterday, arriving 10ish tomorrow. All is good.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Agra
Again the day started with my backup alarm waking us, quick packing and huffing off into the car, it has become somewhat of a routine by now. Before leaving Jaipur we drove to the City Palace to grab some pictures from the outside. Apparently, some parts of the interioir is available for tourists, but it is so little and at such a cost that we did not bother. Back into the car and heading out of the city. Pretty good roads from Jaipur to Agra - and lots of road toll stations to pay for it at. At one point our driver pulled over for a smoke, and Susanne spotted a temple on top of a nearby hill with a long set of stairs winding up to it... and gone she was. We watched her climb the stairs from where the car was parked, but decided to drive to the bottom of the stairs so we could fetch her as soon as she was down. Apparently there was an old man, a monkey and some goats up there.
We drove a bit further before stopping at a tourist restaurant for breakfast/lunch. The only reason we stopped there was actually so that our driver could get the company-sponsored free food there, I guess we would have been better off just buying him some food at one of the non-touristy roadside truckstops we've come to enjoy so much. These tourist places are heavily overpriced and serve only "ok"-ish food that cannot possibly compare to genuine indian food.
Once on the road again we went straight for Agra. This time I saw so many of these empy frames/drivetrains being driven around. I also saw what I at first assumed was the same thing for smaller trucks, but what I later came to realise was ingenuity at work. Someone had come up with the idea of recycling old trucks. Theres a lot of big pickups here reminiscent of a Mercedes Vario, and I guess they have a relatively short lifespan as there seemed to be a lot of available frames/drivetrains for them. Anyway, once that was procured, cabs were removed and tractor engines replaced the original powerplant. Steering shaft was lengthened and a vertical muffler installed (or simply remained on from when the engine was installed in a tractor). No cabs or any other form of protection, just a steering wheel and a large engine up front and the pickup bed in the back. They made a funny sound as well, almost semidieselic, chugging along the roads with all sorts of loads.
Agra is as confusing as any other large indian city so far. We stopped by the hotel, this time located in a quite new building, had our luggage unloaded into our room, and were on our way again. We stopped to pick up our guide for the Taj and drove as close to it as possible in our diesel car. There is a large environmental protection zone around the site, ca. 1km from what I was told. We walked to the ticket counter, paid our Rs750 each (and claimed our complimentary water bottles and shoe covers) and went for the security gates. Security here is tighter than at any normal airport. Women go through one set of gates, men through another. You are only allowed to bring water, camera and tissues as well as medical items. No food, no chewing gum, no music players, no sharp stuff (my Leatherman stayed in the car...). After explaining why I was carrying a box of soap sheets I was let through. The site is quite huge, we entered through the west gate and were treated to the sight of the east gate, workers gate and main gate. Our guide explained the gates and gardens to us before heading through the main gate.
Taj Mahal is probably one of those tourist attractions that are as impressive in real life as it is hyped up to be by "everyone". Their efforts to keep the area clean is also paying off, it is the nicest and cleanest place I've seen in India so far. After taking all the standard touristy photos and getting more information about the structure and construction process, we went across the vast gardens and into the structure itself. It is very impressively decorated; instead of being painted, all graphical work is inlaid stone. Tiny little semiprecious and precious gems are shaped by hand to fit perfectly into carved out recesses in the extremely hard marble. This way, a single flower can consist of many dozens of individual stones and tens of colors. The favorite stone of Mumtaz(?) - for whom the Taj Mahal was buildt - had the peculiar effect of lighting up when shone uppon by a lightsource. A very impressive sight in the darkness of the tomb.
We also got the story of the Black Taj, or actually, I told it and the guide confirmed it. It was also interesting hearing how the massive stone blocks were moved the 400km to the site, and how only Iranian workes were used.
After the Taj we took an electric trolley (weee) back to the car and drove to visit one of the Iranian families still living in Agra and working their trade of inlaying stones into granite. This trade, and especially the unique glue they are using, is still a highly guarded secret that is only passed from grandfather to grandson. It was interesting to see the process and the products in the shop were impressive and surprisingly affordable; a 1x1meter round table with beautiful decorations for Rs50k. This quality marble allows for daily use, no scratches or spills will remain and washing is also no problem. Do want.
We then headed back to the hotel and asked for our tickets for Kerala and beyond. After some confusion we got our train tickets at least. Hotel vouchers and flight tickets are yet to appear. We retreated to our room and I started uploading a batch of pictures. Suddenly the doorbell rang, it was a waiter from the restaurant downstairs and he was ready to take our order. ....ke? Not like I had had time to look through the menu yet at all. Something got ordered and 10 minutes later we were seated in the restaurant. Food arrived but it was rather underwhelming. Way overspiced (not spicy, that is, just far too much spice used) and generally not good. Hmpf. Back in our room again we realised that internet was gone, the WiFi for this floor was out of action. We decided that.neither of us were up for calling reception to have it sorted and it would be nice getting a good nights sleep instead. Halfway into dreamland I got yanked back to reality by the doorbell. There was a guy delivering toilet paper and more towels... for a little tip, of course. I mentioned the lacking internet and he called for an electrician(!) from our room phone. Susanne, who was also almost sleeping, was not ammused. 5 minutes later the doorbell rang again and the electrician was there. Too bad he could not speak english, it took me quite some time to explain that the router would have to be rebooted. After some pointing and explaining and showing and clicking and gesticulating he did vanish for some time and the WiFi came back online. He was actually the one who were expressing the most joy from recieving a few 10s for his work so far in India.
Now we have internet, pictures are going online and the Do Not Disturb sign is hanging outside. Doorbells are randomly going off down the hall, but not here. Now that Im done writing Ill cuddle up and get some sleep. We meet Sanji at 10 to get more information regarding our further travel plans, go to the post office to send some of the stuff we bought back to Europe and grab some eatables for 40hr train ride before being on the train 12:30ish. Sounds like stress to me. Also a little disappointing to find out that we will not be sitting together for the Kerala-Goa train ride. I guess the same thing goes for the Agra-Kerala train, we will get our seat numbers tomorrow.
We drove a bit further before stopping at a tourist restaurant for breakfast/lunch. The only reason we stopped there was actually so that our driver could get the company-sponsored free food there, I guess we would have been better off just buying him some food at one of the non-touristy roadside truckstops we've come to enjoy so much. These tourist places are heavily overpriced and serve only "ok"-ish food that cannot possibly compare to genuine indian food.
Once on the road again we went straight for Agra. This time I saw so many of these empy frames/drivetrains being driven around. I also saw what I at first assumed was the same thing for smaller trucks, but what I later came to realise was ingenuity at work. Someone had come up with the idea of recycling old trucks. Theres a lot of big pickups here reminiscent of a Mercedes Vario, and I guess they have a relatively short lifespan as there seemed to be a lot of available frames/drivetrains for them. Anyway, once that was procured, cabs were removed and tractor engines replaced the original powerplant. Steering shaft was lengthened and a vertical muffler installed (or simply remained on from when the engine was installed in a tractor). No cabs or any other form of protection, just a steering wheel and a large engine up front and the pickup bed in the back. They made a funny sound as well, almost semidieselic, chugging along the roads with all sorts of loads.
Agra is as confusing as any other large indian city so far. We stopped by the hotel, this time located in a quite new building, had our luggage unloaded into our room, and were on our way again. We stopped to pick up our guide for the Taj and drove as close to it as possible in our diesel car. There is a large environmental protection zone around the site, ca. 1km from what I was told. We walked to the ticket counter, paid our Rs750 each (and claimed our complimentary water bottles and shoe covers) and went for the security gates. Security here is tighter than at any normal airport. Women go through one set of gates, men through another. You are only allowed to bring water, camera and tissues as well as medical items. No food, no chewing gum, no music players, no sharp stuff (my Leatherman stayed in the car...). After explaining why I was carrying a box of soap sheets I was let through. The site is quite huge, we entered through the west gate and were treated to the sight of the east gate, workers gate and main gate. Our guide explained the gates and gardens to us before heading through the main gate.
Taj Mahal is probably one of those tourist attractions that are as impressive in real life as it is hyped up to be by "everyone". Their efforts to keep the area clean is also paying off, it is the nicest and cleanest place I've seen in India so far. After taking all the standard touristy photos and getting more information about the structure and construction process, we went across the vast gardens and into the structure itself. It is very impressively decorated; instead of being painted, all graphical work is inlaid stone. Tiny little semiprecious and precious gems are shaped by hand to fit perfectly into carved out recesses in the extremely hard marble. This way, a single flower can consist of many dozens of individual stones and tens of colors. The favorite stone of Mumtaz(?) - for whom the Taj Mahal was buildt - had the peculiar effect of lighting up when shone uppon by a lightsource. A very impressive sight in the darkness of the tomb.
We also got the story of the Black Taj, or actually, I told it and the guide confirmed it. It was also interesting hearing how the massive stone blocks were moved the 400km to the site, and how only Iranian workes were used.
After the Taj we took an electric trolley (weee) back to the car and drove to visit one of the Iranian families still living in Agra and working their trade of inlaying stones into granite. This trade, and especially the unique glue they are using, is still a highly guarded secret that is only passed from grandfather to grandson. It was interesting to see the process and the products in the shop were impressive and surprisingly affordable; a 1x1meter round table with beautiful decorations for Rs50k. This quality marble allows for daily use, no scratches or spills will remain and washing is also no problem. Do want.
We then headed back to the hotel and asked for our tickets for Kerala and beyond. After some confusion we got our train tickets at least. Hotel vouchers and flight tickets are yet to appear. We retreated to our room and I started uploading a batch of pictures. Suddenly the doorbell rang, it was a waiter from the restaurant downstairs and he was ready to take our order. ....ke? Not like I had had time to look through the menu yet at all. Something got ordered and 10 minutes later we were seated in the restaurant. Food arrived but it was rather underwhelming. Way overspiced (not spicy, that is, just far too much spice used) and generally not good. Hmpf. Back in our room again we realised that internet was gone, the WiFi for this floor was out of action. We decided that.neither of us were up for calling reception to have it sorted and it would be nice getting a good nights sleep instead. Halfway into dreamland I got yanked back to reality by the doorbell. There was a guy delivering toilet paper and more towels... for a little tip, of course. I mentioned the lacking internet and he called for an electrician(!) from our room phone. Susanne, who was also almost sleeping, was not ammused. 5 minutes later the doorbell rang again and the electrician was there. Too bad he could not speak english, it took me quite some time to explain that the router would have to be rebooted. After some pointing and explaining and showing and clicking and gesticulating he did vanish for some time and the WiFi came back online. He was actually the one who were expressing the most joy from recieving a few 10s for his work so far in India.
Now we have internet, pictures are going online and the Do Not Disturb sign is hanging outside. Doorbells are randomly going off down the hall, but not here. Now that Im done writing Ill cuddle up and get some sleep. We meet Sanji at 10 to get more information regarding our further travel plans, go to the post office to send some of the stuff we bought back to Europe and grab some eatables for 40hr train ride before being on the train 12:30ish. Sounds like stress to me. Also a little disappointing to find out that we will not be sitting together for the Kerala-Goa train ride. I guess the same thing goes for the Agra-Kerala train, we will get our seat numbers tomorrow.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Pushkar and Jaipur
The roads from Udaipur varied from 6-lane highways to single-lane roads carved into the side of the mountains. Other times there were construction-sites for many miles.
Once we came over a truck that had gone into the ditch and another one trying to pull it out. The were both fully loaded 6-axled semi-trucks running without attached sound-mufflers like most are (if its not vital to the running of the vehicle, it will not be replaced when broken, and they are quite exposed there just under the front bumper), it was quite the sight (and sound).
That is also an interesting observation; it seems like most trucks and buses are modular. First of all you have the running-gear mounted to a frame. Then you have a cabin for the trucks, these seem to be made in huge batches. They are simple sheet-metal made as simplistic as possible. Non-curved window-panes. Doors are simply cut out and hinged backwards or mounted as sliding-doors, and often the window in the door comes out with the frame as a single piece. The steering-wheel/instrument panel is connected to the frame, not the cabin. The seat is a simple wooden frame with a pillow, and only on the drivers side. The rest of the flat floor is usually covered with a carpet and/or pillows. Then, behind the cabin, one can attach any one of a large array of cargo-carrying fixtures. Tanks or containers or boxes in any size. Should the mission change, one simply changes the attachment. It seems like people prefer keeping their cabins though, and that only the frame/running-gear is sold. Once sold, it is simply driven to the new owner without cabin or cargo-hopper. An interesting sight for sure. To keep their cabin when transferring to a new truck, the old one is removed if there is one. That makes for an interesting selection of nosed trucks with their original cabs removed and said sheet-metal cabins replacing them. Now the same thing happens with buses. You have frames and you have bodies. There were many different bus-bodies standing jacked up along the roadside, just waiting for a chassis to be lowered onto.
I also got to see the first Indian V-8 in action during this day. It was mounted in the back of an incredibly large bus, and it was not muffled at all. It appeared to have more than enough power for the bus, as it was doing the most unlikely bypasses. No way our snappy little Tata could follow it as it weaved through highway traffic!
I have mentioned that the trucks and everything else here is loaded to the breaking point. It seems like they have found an effective way of limiting accidents involving overloaded trucks; most of the larger ones are limited to 40kp/h. This does make things a little more interesting on the highways though, as the speed difference of a car going 100 and a fully loaded truck going 35-40 can get interesting in lots of different ways. Then there is the whole deal with properly secured cargo. Mostly it is not. Secured, that is, at all. Especially stones are loaded onto a truck or tractor until it will hold no more, and then it drives away. Any good bump in the road will send the load flying, and pure luck keeps it from landing on a passing or following car.
We arrived quite late in Puskar. It is a pretty small town with little business. Apparently only the Israelis have any real trade going on there. After finding the hotel - which for once was a bit of a challenge, as the name on our voucher didn't match any actual hotels there - and checking in, Sanji arranged a guide for us to take us to the only known Brahmen(?) temple in India. Pushkar, being so small and lacking any source of income, is relying heavily on tourists. In turn, this makes the merchants even more pushy than other places. This did not turn out to be a problem as we had our guide, however. It was the first time I saw monkeys up close, as two feuding tribes were having an argument and in doing so were wrecking the market place around us, roofs collapsing and merchandise being thrown around. The temple was somewhat underwhelming compared to the others we've seen. On the way back we stopped by the lake, a nice place but also here lots of people offering to relieve us of our money.
We made it back to the hotels with most of our treasury intact and went for a snack on the rooftop restaurant., after which we went to bed.
Waking up, we barely had time to pack before we left. Once on our way Sanji told us he had also not had any breakfast and wondered if it was OK if he stopped somewhere along the highway. Of course it was! We had nice Indian breakfast with some bread with baked-in cauliflowers, a bowl of dal and "pickle". Bread and Dal was nice.
I must have fallen asleep again quite soon after breakfast, as the next thing I remember was the chaos of Jaipur traffic two hours later. Sanji found the hotel very fast this time (how one can actually manage to remember where anything is in these cities amazes me, it makes Oslo or any other large European city seem like a children's 50-piece puzzle in comparison). We checked in, had our luggage delivered to our room, freshened up a bit and then we were on our way again. Sanji would be our guide today. First we drove to a place where we could take pictures of a palace in the middle of a lake. Also first time I saw an elephant here. Then we went on to the fort. For me, it was the most fascinating fort. While it had lost most of its splendors to time and wear, the sheer grandness and the lack of blocked passages was everything I could wish for. Hardly any doors were locked, no hallway fenced off. I could have spent days there exploring every little room. Like the fort in Udaipur they had running water here, and outside they had a small constructed lake filled with water pumped up with the use of drought-animals. Sadly I only had an hour, and I lost Susanne just once in the maze it turned out to be. When I found her again she was the point of interest for a large crowd of Indians wanting pictures with this beautiful European girl. Once free of the photographing horde we made our way back down to the parking lot. The walls surrounding the fort were also impressive by the way, very "great wall of China"-ish.
We then went to a fabrics-shop to see how they do their "block printing". Using a set of differently engraved blocks like stamps, they apply pattern to cloth. The cloth is then laid in the sun to dry for 12 hours, after which the color is so attached to the cloth that daily use and machine washing does not affect it. Susanne also got to try a Sari, very very pretty.
Next we visited a jewelry-store. First we got got see how they ground rough unimpressive stones into precious stones. Then we were presented with our "birth-stone", different stones based on our month of birth. Mine is the Ruby, and they found the Star Ruby for me. Truly amazing stones. Not only are they shiny, but these stones, when cut properly, will reflect light with 6 lines in a star pattern. One must really see this effect for themselves, as it is quite amazing. I did however favour the "black star", a black stone with a similar effect, just 4 lines instead of 6. However, at well over Rs4000 (€70) for only the stone I found it too much. Even if I could have found the money it would still have been a matter of wearing it, and I am not one for rings nor pendants. It was still nice to see all the precious and semi-precious stones they had and how they prepared them.
Next on the programme was a stop at a tomb made for a Maharajan family. It was very nicely made. Again we were approached by quite a few kids wanting sweets or rupees. We still haven't figured out what to do with these. If you give them something they just want more. If you give a few, a lot more will come. If you give them money, it will just be taken by their parents. Its obviously not very helpful giving them sweets, and its hard finding something cheap and durable we can have in the car to give them, that doesn't take a lot of space. Susanne has set her mind on nuts but have been unable to find any so far.
Personally I find the children more annoying than anything else. They are there from the car stops until it leaves again, hanging onto the doorhandles for as long as they car as it drives away. Once you get out, they are constantly doing everything they can to get attention, by talking/yelling, by pulling on your clothes or walking in your way. Saying that you don't have anything for them does not have any effect. It seems like they have learned that as long as they are at it long enough the tourists will always give up in the end and give them something. They are extremely persistent, I must give them points for that at least. Susanne finds it a lot harder than me, feeling helpless, unable to do anything useful for them but unwilling to just ignore them.
People in general here, I find, are too pushy and "in your face". Constantly. That is, except those who have no interest in you; those who are not trying to get any money from you. They are the most helpful souls imaginable and will go to great lengths to help out. They seem to be forming an ever-decreasing minority however, and wherever you turn there seems to be someone wanting money from you. It gets a little tiresome after some time. The "personal sphere" or "comfort zone" we're so used to maintain up in cold, empty Scandinavia is simply non-existent here. Even with the hotel doors locked and lights turned off one can still not feel truly on his own, with the windows and doors usually being so thin that they hardly contain any outside noise. Now, I can fall asleep in any situation, so that's not a problem, but I do miss a little "me-time" now and then. The desert and the lake were nice like that. Just Susanne, our driver/guide/friend Sanji and I and not another human within hearing or seeing distance for a short moment. Serene.
We made one last stop on our sight-seeing round today, stopping at a nice palace garden. It is often used for scenes in Bollywood movies. Again Susanne became the local attraction and everyone wanted pictures with her.
On the way back to the hotel Susanne stopped to make a call to her father on his birthday today. Almost 3 minutes for the bank-breaking charge of... Rs33. A notch over €0.50!
Once back at the hotel we went up to the roof to find the restaurant. Susanne had a combo-dish with three different curries (omnom) and I tried the Chicken Masala (the last item on my "to-try" list of Indian meat-based dishes I know from Europe). It was a lot better than the Euro-version, but I still think the vegetarian food here tastes generally better than the non-veg. and I will try to stick to the plants from now (mostly was so far, anyway). Old habits are hard to turn, however. I do think most people would find inspiration in seeing all the animals here - either walking around 'freely', stuck in a cage going somewhere or on the butchers block about to become someones dinner - as far as going (temporarily, anyway) vegetarian. "Chicken" is no longer just a description on the package you pick up in the supermarket, but something you try not to stumble over on your way across the town square.
Lots of pigs here too, it started in Jaisalmer as far as I remember, and they have grown larger and larger as we traveled in this general direction. Goats can be seen anywhere along the road and in town. I once asked Sanji about the price of a goat, and he said Rs600.
As far as animal care goes, I think European "pet" and "use" animals have a better life, while the food-animals might be better off here in many cases compared to the European industrialized animal-production. Still, even with so many being 'vegetarian' to some degree here, it is clearly not out of animal-welfare-related reasons. Hot-iron branding is still the most common way of marking the animals of the various families, often animals are tied up on such a short leach that they can hardly move or lay down, and access to shadow or water is non-existing. Injured animals are also left to their own.
It is interesting to see how well dogs are able to cope though, omnivores of opportunity as they are, they are usually able to come out of any situation with all hairs in place. The human-dog bonds you see in Europe has been traded back for dog-dog bonds, and there is usually two or more of them sticking together - sometimes forming large packs. Most of the time though, they are mostly just laying around snoozing and soaking up the sun. I can easily imagine Solo (the dog living with my mom and me) in a setting like this, she has always been such an independent and resourceful little creature, able to get it 'her way' whatever that might be.
Tomorrow I believe we go to Agra, the end of this part of our journey. We will have one night there, as well as a look-see at the Taj Mahal, and then the train will take us all the way to, I think, Kochin(?) in Kerala. A 40 hour train ride!
It's 23:00 again and I should sleep. Hope this post didn't get too confusing, there is just so much to experience here and so little time to remember it and note it down like this. In a way, this blog is as much a tool to help me remember the day as it is a way to share it. Unable to post pictures now as I'm logged in via my phone, the hotel WiFi doesn't cover our room and its too cold to sit in the common area for hours while uploading.
Once we came over a truck that had gone into the ditch and another one trying to pull it out. The were both fully loaded 6-axled semi-trucks running without attached sound-mufflers like most are (if its not vital to the running of the vehicle, it will not be replaced when broken, and they are quite exposed there just under the front bumper), it was quite the sight (and sound).
That is also an interesting observation; it seems like most trucks and buses are modular. First of all you have the running-gear mounted to a frame. Then you have a cabin for the trucks, these seem to be made in huge batches. They are simple sheet-metal made as simplistic as possible. Non-curved window-panes. Doors are simply cut out and hinged backwards or mounted as sliding-doors, and often the window in the door comes out with the frame as a single piece. The steering-wheel/instrument panel is connected to the frame, not the cabin. The seat is a simple wooden frame with a pillow, and only on the drivers side. The rest of the flat floor is usually covered with a carpet and/or pillows. Then, behind the cabin, one can attach any one of a large array of cargo-carrying fixtures. Tanks or containers or boxes in any size. Should the mission change, one simply changes the attachment. It seems like people prefer keeping their cabins though, and that only the frame/running-gear is sold. Once sold, it is simply driven to the new owner without cabin or cargo-hopper. An interesting sight for sure. To keep their cabin when transferring to a new truck, the old one is removed if there is one. That makes for an interesting selection of nosed trucks with their original cabs removed and said sheet-metal cabins replacing them. Now the same thing happens with buses. You have frames and you have bodies. There were many different bus-bodies standing jacked up along the roadside, just waiting for a chassis to be lowered onto.
I also got to see the first Indian V-8 in action during this day. It was mounted in the back of an incredibly large bus, and it was not muffled at all. It appeared to have more than enough power for the bus, as it was doing the most unlikely bypasses. No way our snappy little Tata could follow it as it weaved through highway traffic!
I have mentioned that the trucks and everything else here is loaded to the breaking point. It seems like they have found an effective way of limiting accidents involving overloaded trucks; most of the larger ones are limited to 40kp/h. This does make things a little more interesting on the highways though, as the speed difference of a car going 100 and a fully loaded truck going 35-40 can get interesting in lots of different ways. Then there is the whole deal with properly secured cargo. Mostly it is not. Secured, that is, at all. Especially stones are loaded onto a truck or tractor until it will hold no more, and then it drives away. Any good bump in the road will send the load flying, and pure luck keeps it from landing on a passing or following car.
We arrived quite late in Puskar. It is a pretty small town with little business. Apparently only the Israelis have any real trade going on there. After finding the hotel - which for once was a bit of a challenge, as the name on our voucher didn't match any actual hotels there - and checking in, Sanji arranged a guide for us to take us to the only known Brahmen(?) temple in India. Pushkar, being so small and lacking any source of income, is relying heavily on tourists. In turn, this makes the merchants even more pushy than other places. This did not turn out to be a problem as we had our guide, however. It was the first time I saw monkeys up close, as two feuding tribes were having an argument and in doing so were wrecking the market place around us, roofs collapsing and merchandise being thrown around. The temple was somewhat underwhelming compared to the others we've seen. On the way back we stopped by the lake, a nice place but also here lots of people offering to relieve us of our money.
We made it back to the hotels with most of our treasury intact and went for a snack on the rooftop restaurant., after which we went to bed.
Waking up, we barely had time to pack before we left. Once on our way Sanji told us he had also not had any breakfast and wondered if it was OK if he stopped somewhere along the highway. Of course it was! We had nice Indian breakfast with some bread with baked-in cauliflowers, a bowl of dal and "pickle". Bread and Dal was nice.
I must have fallen asleep again quite soon after breakfast, as the next thing I remember was the chaos of Jaipur traffic two hours later. Sanji found the hotel very fast this time (how one can actually manage to remember where anything is in these cities amazes me, it makes Oslo or any other large European city seem like a children's 50-piece puzzle in comparison). We checked in, had our luggage delivered to our room, freshened up a bit and then we were on our way again. Sanji would be our guide today. First we drove to a place where we could take pictures of a palace in the middle of a lake. Also first time I saw an elephant here. Then we went on to the fort. For me, it was the most fascinating fort. While it had lost most of its splendors to time and wear, the sheer grandness and the lack of blocked passages was everything I could wish for. Hardly any doors were locked, no hallway fenced off. I could have spent days there exploring every little room. Like the fort in Udaipur they had running water here, and outside they had a small constructed lake filled with water pumped up with the use of drought-animals. Sadly I only had an hour, and I lost Susanne just once in the maze it turned out to be. When I found her again she was the point of interest for a large crowd of Indians wanting pictures with this beautiful European girl. Once free of the photographing horde we made our way back down to the parking lot. The walls surrounding the fort were also impressive by the way, very "great wall of China"-ish.
We then went to a fabrics-shop to see how they do their "block printing". Using a set of differently engraved blocks like stamps, they apply pattern to cloth. The cloth is then laid in the sun to dry for 12 hours, after which the color is so attached to the cloth that daily use and machine washing does not affect it. Susanne also got to try a Sari, very very pretty.
Next we visited a jewelry-store. First we got got see how they ground rough unimpressive stones into precious stones. Then we were presented with our "birth-stone", different stones based on our month of birth. Mine is the Ruby, and they found the Star Ruby for me. Truly amazing stones. Not only are they shiny, but these stones, when cut properly, will reflect light with 6 lines in a star pattern. One must really see this effect for themselves, as it is quite amazing. I did however favour the "black star", a black stone with a similar effect, just 4 lines instead of 6. However, at well over Rs4000 (€70) for only the stone I found it too much. Even if I could have found the money it would still have been a matter of wearing it, and I am not one for rings nor pendants. It was still nice to see all the precious and semi-precious stones they had and how they prepared them.
Next on the programme was a stop at a tomb made for a Maharajan family. It was very nicely made. Again we were approached by quite a few kids wanting sweets or rupees. We still haven't figured out what to do with these. If you give them something they just want more. If you give a few, a lot more will come. If you give them money, it will just be taken by their parents. Its obviously not very helpful giving them sweets, and its hard finding something cheap and durable we can have in the car to give them, that doesn't take a lot of space. Susanne has set her mind on nuts but have been unable to find any so far.
Personally I find the children more annoying than anything else. They are there from the car stops until it leaves again, hanging onto the doorhandles for as long as they car as it drives away. Once you get out, they are constantly doing everything they can to get attention, by talking/yelling, by pulling on your clothes or walking in your way. Saying that you don't have anything for them does not have any effect. It seems like they have learned that as long as they are at it long enough the tourists will always give up in the end and give them something. They are extremely persistent, I must give them points for that at least. Susanne finds it a lot harder than me, feeling helpless, unable to do anything useful for them but unwilling to just ignore them.
People in general here, I find, are too pushy and "in your face". Constantly. That is, except those who have no interest in you; those who are not trying to get any money from you. They are the most helpful souls imaginable and will go to great lengths to help out. They seem to be forming an ever-decreasing minority however, and wherever you turn there seems to be someone wanting money from you. It gets a little tiresome after some time. The "personal sphere" or "comfort zone" we're so used to maintain up in cold, empty Scandinavia is simply non-existent here. Even with the hotel doors locked and lights turned off one can still not feel truly on his own, with the windows and doors usually being so thin that they hardly contain any outside noise. Now, I can fall asleep in any situation, so that's not a problem, but I do miss a little "me-time" now and then. The desert and the lake were nice like that. Just Susanne, our driver/guide/friend Sanji and I and not another human within hearing or seeing distance for a short moment. Serene.
We made one last stop on our sight-seeing round today, stopping at a nice palace garden. It is often used for scenes in Bollywood movies. Again Susanne became the local attraction and everyone wanted pictures with her.
On the way back to the hotel Susanne stopped to make a call to her father on his birthday today. Almost 3 minutes for the bank-breaking charge of... Rs33. A notch over €0.50!
Once back at the hotel we went up to the roof to find the restaurant. Susanne had a combo-dish with three different curries (omnom) and I tried the Chicken Masala (the last item on my "to-try" list of Indian meat-based dishes I know from Europe). It was a lot better than the Euro-version, but I still think the vegetarian food here tastes generally better than the non-veg. and I will try to stick to the plants from now (mostly was so far, anyway). Old habits are hard to turn, however. I do think most people would find inspiration in seeing all the animals here - either walking around 'freely', stuck in a cage going somewhere or on the butchers block about to become someones dinner - as far as going (temporarily, anyway) vegetarian. "Chicken" is no longer just a description on the package you pick up in the supermarket, but something you try not to stumble over on your way across the town square.
Lots of pigs here too, it started in Jaisalmer as far as I remember, and they have grown larger and larger as we traveled in this general direction. Goats can be seen anywhere along the road and in town. I once asked Sanji about the price of a goat, and he said Rs600.
As far as animal care goes, I think European "pet" and "use" animals have a better life, while the food-animals might be better off here in many cases compared to the European industrialized animal-production. Still, even with so many being 'vegetarian' to some degree here, it is clearly not out of animal-welfare-related reasons. Hot-iron branding is still the most common way of marking the animals of the various families, often animals are tied up on such a short leach that they can hardly move or lay down, and access to shadow or water is non-existing. Injured animals are also left to their own.
It is interesting to see how well dogs are able to cope though, omnivores of opportunity as they are, they are usually able to come out of any situation with all hairs in place. The human-dog bonds you see in Europe has been traded back for dog-dog bonds, and there is usually two or more of them sticking together - sometimes forming large packs. Most of the time though, they are mostly just laying around snoozing and soaking up the sun. I can easily imagine Solo (the dog living with my mom and me) in a setting like this, she has always been such an independent and resourceful little creature, able to get it 'her way' whatever that might be.
Tomorrow I believe we go to Agra, the end of this part of our journey. We will have one night there, as well as a look-see at the Taj Mahal, and then the train will take us all the way to, I think, Kochin(?) in Kerala. A 40 hour train ride!
It's 23:00 again and I should sleep. Hope this post didn't get too confusing, there is just so much to experience here and so little time to remember it and note it down like this. In a way, this blog is as much a tool to help me remember the day as it is a way to share it. Unable to post pictures now as I'm logged in via my phone, the hotel WiFi doesn't cover our room and its too cold to sit in the common area for hours while uploading.
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