Thank god for duty-free Baileys

Sunday 22nd June

Well, the flight was about as exciting as I thought it would be. There was a baby in the row in front of us, fortunately, she was quite advanced for her age and liked waving back so we got on very well. At one point she waved at the entire plane and most of the passengers waved back.

Didn't get much reading done. Mainly because I had two new books to speed me on my journey - fairest, byGail Carson Levine (she wrote Ella Enchanted, that was that Drew Barrymore movie, wasn't it? - that's not a bad movie to watch if there's nothing else on) - anyway, it was a nice easy read, a take on Snow White, and I finished it neatly between Bangalore and Singapore. I'd also decided to go back and read the earlier books in the McCall Smith Scotland St series, of which The world according to Bertie was the most recent. I bought 44 Scotland St, as part of my MG Rd shopping extravaganza on Saturday. Which feels like a long time ago, now. In any case, I put the read book in my backpack, and the unread book in my handbag, whilst waiting at Changi, and pulled out the new one after we took off. Only to discover that I had not purchased 44 Scotland St, but had in fact purchased The world according to Bertie. Again. So, I looked at it when I bought it, looked at it when I had packed it the night before, and looked at it again when I swapped books over between flights. But didn't notice it until I actually went to read it. I gave it to the rather surprised lady sitting next to me on the plane...

So having returned to Melbourne, having waited for the luggage jam to be cleared so we could get our luggage, by which time the customs line had swelled to an hour-long wait, and having finally reached home several hours after actually landing (and, as usual, having to explain to the cab driver where the Flemington Rd off-ramp is) - I'm making sure the essentials of tv and internet are set up, trying to figure out what to take to work tomorrow, and enjoying a late supper of duty-free Baileys. Aaaahhh...

After The Fact Mind Boggler Of The Day:

Ah, joy...

Saturday 21st June

Ah well, I knew it wouldn't be that simple. Having arrived too late last night to do the suit-fitting thing, we turned up at the tailor first thing this morning (11.30) (after yet another uninspiring breakfast at the Sepia Residency). Needs some fine-tuning, come back at four...

Duly turned up at 4 (having done laps of MG Rd trying to get last-minute stuff for people, as my original plan was sold out when I got there...) - then waited for an hour and a half... Trousers could use some small adjustments, but I guess they will be happening in Australia!

Rushed (such as it is possible in Bangalore peak hour) back to the hotel to bathe and encourage my new suits to fit into my suitcase.

The suits were so big and heavy (in a good-quality kind of way), I was not sure I'd be able to get my suitcase packed, let alone checked in in a hassle-free manner. So I madly rushed around throwing out cheap stuff, eg my Nivea face-cream and almost-finished Dove body-wash, tipping out my shampoo, etc, in an effort not to pay a vast amount per kilo of cheap stuff I could have thrown out, if you see what I mean.

Surprisingly, the zip-out extension on my suitcase works in a mysteriously good way. If I have trouble closing the suitcase, I unzip the extension, close and zip the suitcase, and then I am able to re-zip the extension down again. And managed it with multiple suit contents. Heh, let's not get too far ahead of ourselves here - it still has to arrive in Melbourne!

Weighed in at 25 kilos, and they let it through, so all was well. And didn't weigh my carry-on luggage, which was even weller, there are a few weight-causing books stashed therein. Still, I could always go for Plan B on the backpack, which is to remove my laptop and slightly heavy powercord and pull the "I'm allowed a laptop as a separate item" line.

Have to admit I was feeling slightly sorry to be leaving Bangalore - having spent the previous two weeks travelling around, it felt a bit like coming home yesterday, what with all the familiar shops on MG Rd, which is about all I know of it. And I was beginning to recognise the approach to the Vintage Sepia.

Flight was about as exciting as a five-hour midnight flight can be. Large meal served at 1am, Bangalore time. Stiflingly hot during the allocated sleep period. Must find out why they make it so hot, is it just to make babies cry and adults grumpy? Something orchestrated by the hosties union, so they can prove they earn their pay?

Anyway, as a grand finale to the flight, the person sitting in front of me saw fit to throw up all over the aisle during landing. Not much you can say to that really. Adult. Sick bag in seat pocket in front of him. Chooses not to use it, but instead to share his fortune (and 1am dinner) with the rest of the plane. Perhaps he was in cahoots with the hosties union.

So now for a few hours of browsing Changi Airport (having realised that though I have time to go shopping in Singapore proper, probably not much will be open at 6am on a Sunday) - whilst looking forward to a nice long day-time flight back to Melbourne. With, I feel compelled to say, probably the crappest lineup of movies I've seen on a plane for a long time. Might have to dig out some of those weight-causing books from my backpack...

Hey there, Ganesh!

Friday 20th June

Ok, now I'm not even sure what month it is.

Went to check out - it had been raining since breakfast, and the place was steaming. Really. I'd been out of the aircon for about 10 mins and it was like I'd jumped into the swimming pool. And I really wished I could.

Flight was at 1.30, so took the 11.30 resort shuttle to the airport, to arrive at 12.30, in good time. But Ganesh had other ideas - the flight had been rescheduled to 5pm, which meant I had a bit of a wait. They'd tried to call me a number of times over the previous days, but couldn't get through. Because the travel agent had not only given them a non-existent contact number for me, but one which bore no relation whatsoever to mine. So apart from a couple of poorly-placed hotels (which I probably should have checked out a bit more closely before agreeing to), the only real problem I had with the travel agency has been an inability on their part to communicate vital phone numbers. Oh, and actually send through all the travel vouchers at once...

Anyway, the airport was also steamy, so it was a particularly pleasant experience. However, I had the thought of the bottle of port to look forward to in the evening (the resort accidentally gave me an extra bottle when I changed rooms). However, airport regulations had other ideas. I wasn't allowed to take it on the flight. I didn't really mind, after all, I didn't pay for it, but I couldn't really get a good reason from them. Something to do with it being a bottle. And / or alcohol. Anyway, the port stayed in Goa.

Eventually arrived in Bangalore, realised it was too late to go collect my suits from the tailor, so hopefully they will be in good shape by tomorrow... And in my weakened state, I signed a deal with the devil... I agreed to go to the tourist shops tomorrow with my driver. Arg, I hate those guys! Mind you, once I pick up my suits, and do a bit more shopping, I don't really have any plans.

Driver says the weather has cooled down over the past few weeks. It's averaging about 30, now...

Discovered to my joy that the Vintage Residency provides free wi-fi, so after spending about an hour trying to sort out the settings, but bolstered by a fresh lime soda, a pile of grilled chicken sandwiches and some halwa (my new most-favourite-dessert ever), I perservered, and managed to get access...

Oh, yeah. And I checked in online and gave myself aisle seats. Couldn't print out my boarding passes, the hotel doesn't have a printing facility, but hopefully I should arrive in good enough time to claim my rightful place(s).

So a nice, late start tomorrow, and, as well as free wi-fi, the sepia queen also has 24hr check-in/-out. That means that because I checked in after 8pm tonight, I can check out at 7pm tomorrow, time enough to come back and bathe before hitting the airport for the long and glorious trip home.

Bug On A Mirror Of The Day:

Chocolate Body Scrub Of The Day

Thursday 19th June

So, the electricity keeps going off for several seconds, then restarting. I believe this is due to the monsoon, cutting it off periodically. However, I'm not sure you should be able to see daylight via the power point...

Light switch

Having considered the possibility of renting a car (and driver, haha!) to go see Panaji myself, I decided to continue my break from the thrills of driving and vendor-avoiding in the suffocating humidity, and spent the morning doing the pool/reading thing.

My book, by the way, is pretty crappy. And therefore perfect for holiday reading. It's Labyrinth by Kate Mosse. It tries hard, but doesn't quite make the cut. It needs better editing. And it's making me want to read the real thing again, say Umberto Eco's Foucault's Pendulum. That book had me wanting to scour the occult bookstores for more information, but I was too scared, just in case someone was watching me...

Pool at night

Anyway, after lunch and a bit more pool/reading, it was time for my chocolate body scrub. Which was pretty damn good. Started with my American-Plan-Included sauna (the steam room here is incredible - so steamy you can't see your feet). And 46 degrees. Which is really quite hot.

Then the scrub - not drippingly oily like the Ayurvedic massages are, and now my skin is all soft and chocolatey-smelling. Must look out for more of these when I get home. Or try it myself - though I suspect that would be doomed to failure, if not logistically, then at least in that I'm not sure the chocolate would last long enough to reach my skin.

Flower Outside My Room Of The Day:

The best boat cruise of its kind in the world

Wednesday 18th June

The day started off beautifully cool. Then it rained, very convincingly.

Then it became amazingly hot - like being inside a sauna, but when you don't want to.

Wandered down to the stormy sea, promising the guard not to go swimming.

Went and sat under the fans in the lobby for a while, to read my book. Realised that it's not a picture of Henry VIII in the lobby, but in fact Vasco da Gama. Which makes more sense, I suppose.

Not Henry, Vasco

Turned up for my American-Plan-Included half-day tour of Goa, with 11 other people - Indian families, we all piled into the bus and off we went. Within seconds, 8 people were asleep.

We had a resort dude and a driver. First stop was optional - a visit to an original Portuguese villa. The group was remarkably unresponsive to the suggestion, but they went anyway, and seemed to enjoy themselves. It was quite interesting, particularly the villa family's method of solving problems. They went to the communal bathroom together, to clear their... er... minds.

Don't bother us, we're... thinking...

Following this, all instructions were given by the driver, in Hindi, rather than my preferred English, so I just followed everyone else.

Next stop, Shantadurga Temple:

One of the largest and most famous of Goa's temples dedicated to Shantadurga (1738), the wife of shiva as the Goddess of peace. She earns the refix - "Shanta" because on the request of Brahmaa, she medicated a quarrel between her husband and Vishnu restoring peace to the universe. In the sanctuary she stands symbolically between the two Gods.
[All sic]

We were kind of set free to come back in 20 mins, so that's all I know about the place. There seemed to be a hostel of some description, around the temple, and also an ATM... somewhere...

ATM this way

Next stop, Old Goa. Well, the Basilica of Bom Jesus, where lie the remains of St Francis Xavier. It's an interesting story about his remains - Google it. Once again, set free with 20 mins.

We made a (very) brief stop at a Cottage Arts Emporium - we all refused to get off the bus!

Then Panaji:

Panajim is one of India's smallest most beautiful state capital. Located on the South bank of the wide Mandovi River, it was made the state capital by the Muslim ruler YUSUF ALI SHAH. The best way to experience Panaji is to take a walk down the street. The atmosphere is relaxed and the people are very hospitable. There are balconies and red roof tiles. White washed churches and numerous small bars and cafes.

Or, a carpark full of tourist buses, and at one end of the carpark, three small shops crowded with tourists anxious to buy their Goa cashews, and cashew or coconut fenli (liqueur). Nothing else. I checked on the map. We were a good km or two away from the balconies and red roof tiles. But we had half an hour to make our nut and alcohol purchases, then we got to walk across the road to wait for an hour and a half for the world's best boat cruise.

WE OFFER YOU
THE BEST BOAT CRUISE OF ITS KIND IN THE WORLD
THE BEST BOAT
THE BEST PROGRAMME
ONLY TRIPLE DECK CRUISER
LIVE GOAN BAND & THUMPING SOUND
WELL STOCKED BAR AND SNACK COUNTER
COMFY-SITTING AND LOTS OF SPACE TO WALK AROUND
LIVELY FOLK DANCES
STAGE FOR YOU TO DANCE ON
ONE HOUR OF PURE PLEASURE IN PARADISE

I have to admit the cruise was not totally to my taste, I (and half the other couple of hundred passengers) spent most of the cruise on the top deck, where we could still enjoy the thumping sound through the deck, but also relative peace and fresh air. Except for when the rain provided its own thumping sound on the deck, then we thought we might go below to check out how the stage dancers were going.

So then back in time for dinner. I keep hearing how you lose weight in India. I definitely did in the first week, when I was spending all the time in the car - I was managing maybe two meals a day, and had no appetite. Probably a combination of living on traffic-induced adrenaline, and the altitude (which seems to affect my appetite, even if I'm not very high) (though I manage to eat in planes, so go figure).

However, I have more than made up for it over the past few days. I wasn't sure I could deal with buffet three meals a day, and was quite prepared to check out the other restaurants here. But the variety and quality's been very good, and I've been trying some of almost everything. Even if not particularly hungry - when am I going to get the chance again to try all this fab food? Particularly the vegetarian food. I actually seek out the cauliflower here...

Though for no apparent reason someone approached me last night to check that I was eating ok, and was the food too spicy and they could make something special for me if I wanted. I had thought that I was doing almost embarrassingly well, but maybe they thought I was just being polite.

Eh. Whatever.

 

Tuesday, 17th June

Sleep late.

Eat.

* Jump in pool.

Sit by pool.

Read book.

Repeat from * until sunburned.

Eat.

Move to a potentially quieter and definitely more scenic room.

Have decadent massage.

Book next decadent massage.

Eat.

Sleep.

More Scenic Room View Of The Day:

Straight on to the beach

Why does the Indian navy paint targets on its planes?

Monday, 16th June

Well, where to start...

I'm special!

Kingfisher Air should come fly in Australia. Really.

Flight from Cochin to Goa hopped via Calicut and Mangalore, those of us going straight through simply stayed on the flight.

First leg, 25 mins. We got a lunchbox containing:

• A cheese and coleslaw sandwich, white bread, crusts cut off, halved diagonally, halves individually wrapped in cling-film
• A piece of cake, wrapped in cling-film
• A giant oatmeal and raisin cookie
• Two sweets
• A mango drink with a twist of alphonso (sounds painful, but presumably Alphonso doesn't mind)

They had barely distributed them when we started to land, still eating happily.

Second leg, similar-length flight. We got a familiar-looking lunchbox, but with cheese, tomato and cucumber sandwich, halved vertically, and the addition of a couple of deepfried veg thingies. Very nice.

Third leg, 50 mins. Menu meal. I chose veg, which contained:

• Veg kofta korma
• Onion dal
• Vegetable pulao rice
• A salad
• Vermicelli kheer (my favourite dessert, right up there with payasam)
• A mango drink with a twist of alphonso (poor Alphonso)

Not to mention little bottles of water, a tray of sweets (and, inexplicably free pens), and free newspapers on take-off. Not to mention the fact that the seat in front is nowhere near my knees.

Catch an Australian airline giving you more than a warm juice and a packet of peanuts on such a short flight.

And catch an Australian airline having a "hot-seat of the day" competition. On the second leg, that hot-seat was mine! I won a laminated poster of Vitantonio Liuzzi, a driver for the ForceIndia Formula One team. I'm so lucky. And special!

Targets on planes

So there was a delay at Goa, waiting to taxi in to get off the plane. My plane was holding at the military apron. There were a number of fighter planes there, belonging to the Indian Navy. They had targets painted on them.

Now, I'm not an expert, but surely the idea is to make it harder for the enemy to get you, not easier. Just a suggestion - perhaps they could lose the targets.

Elvis was my driver

Extracted myself from the airport, met my ride to the resort. Temperature: 30 degrees at 80% humidity. Driver's name: Elvis.

We discussed the types of tourists that go to these resorts. He really dislikes Russians - they are very rude and messy and difficult to deal with. And don't speak English. On top of which, the women are "business women". I had a little think about that, had a sneaking suspicion, which he then clarified - apparently they all come over here to set up prostitution businesses. Though Elvis had met one very nice Russian family, the father was a geologist and the mother was a dentist.

He was talking about how Goans are different to the rest of India - and referred to other Goans as "our boys" and "our girls" - interesting. First time I've come across such a distinct sense of identity. Though, of course, that could be due to the fact that Elvis speaks better English than many of the drivers I've come across, and so was better able to express it, and me more able to understand it.

The shower caps are plentiful and the port is free

Reached resort after peaceful and almost traffic-free ride in (due to it being the off-season). Upon arrival I was banded.

The "American Plan" band

Feeling slightly like a criminal or a prisoner, I was led to my room, which is rather nice - one of two rooms in a single building.

There seem to be a lot of fire-related safety warnings. Learn your escape routes. Don't smoke in bed. If you even suspect a fire, leave the room (making sure you have secured both your room key and your family, in that order).

The room contains a complimentary bottle of wine and a complimentary box of matches.

A two-room cottage - note the fire-hose

A two-story room complex

I remain baffled as to why, in my split door, its the bottom half that opens while the top remains locked...

Midget bison entrance

Went for a wander down to the beach (because the resort does actually give onto the beach).

Of course there's beach cricket in India, though I might not swim...

Ok, definitely the pool for me

I had noticed a shopping complex on the way in, so I went out to have a look at it (having been relatively shopping-free for the last week or so, apart from the Bat-vendor-repellent-free-vendors in Jew Town). They actually let me out, despite my American Plan Band, and they let me back in afterwards, too, which was encouraging.

Managed to acquire a new book, as all I had left was William Dalrymple's The Last Mughal, which is very interesting and all, but too much like work. The shop dude heroically almost managed to not follow me around the shop and point out the good points of everything I looked at. I think it's a genetic thing.

For example, I noticed a cat wandering around the resort. He noticed me noticing, and proceeded to follow me all the way back to my room, asking for a tip (which is actually against the rules here, they have a tip box at reception).

There are 125 Indians here on a conference. I met their Hungarian economist and her translator at dinner, and the company director.

The buffet had live music and disco lights. Which would have been ok if my room had not been right beside it. I went to investigate the possibility of changing rooms, and was informed that I had been kept close because there were 125 men staying in the area, and the resort was looking after me. I boldly stated that I wasn't afraid of men, and then immediately had to run the gauntlet of them, who seemed to be all sitting on my balcony, for the room next to mine.

The music was loud, but I discovered that the half-bottle of wine is actually port (Indian port... which should be fine, because port is supposed to be a bit sweet) (I'm really quite surprised that every Indian is not a diabetic, the amount of sugar they put in things, it's almost as bad as the Americans), which should make getting to sleep a little easier.

I think tomorrow will be a day of doing nothing - lounging by and in the pool, maybe a visit to the gym, with just a smattering of room-changing. Maybe a massage ... hmmm ... they have a 24-carat gold body scrub ... papaya and honey ... oooh, chocolate body scrub ... mmm ... chocolate body scrub ...

Incongruous Advertising Image Of The Day: A platypus

Which way up

Sunday 15th June
Today is Sunday. In a Syrianic Christian area. Thus much is closed.

Went to Fort Cochin to look at...

• Mattancherry Palace - built by the Portuguese, renovated by the Dutch. Under reorganisation, so the portrait gallery was just empty walls. Interesting palanquins. Interesting because of how small they are (particularly the completely enclosed ones), and interesting because of how long the poley bits are.


• Ten minute drive to special tourist shop, you look for ten minutes, you don't buy, nice view from roof.


• Ten minute drive to Pardesi Synagogue. Parking area seems strangely familiar... almost exactly like the back entrance to Mattancherry Palace. Walk to synagogue through Jew Town. It's the off-season, so not only are there very few tourists, I'm the only foreign one. Massively outnumbered by shopkeepers. Fend them all off, go to synagogue, then dread the return shop obstacle course. Think longingly of Bat-vendor-repellent. Every single person had been waiting for so long for me to come back, they all missed me terribly.


• Had a look at the famous Chinese fishing nets - they have big piles of rocks tied to them as counterweights.


• Dropped by St Francis Church, where Vasco da Gama was buried for the first time. He was buried for the second time in Lisbon.


• Had a look at the beach. Hmmm... monsoon waves... Not boding well for the Goa-bound.


• Went to the Dutch cemetary - locked shut, so no chance of discovering long-lost relatives.

Stopped to look at idly moulds. Sadly, the whole package is too big for cartage and my-small-kitchen-storage. So I bought a tiffin container instead. The old dude at the till looked at me suspiciously and accused me of being Swiss. The young guy who'd helped serve me corrected him and said I was American. I suggested that I was not. "Australian! Cricket! Shane Warne!" "Aaaahhh! I like Ricky Ponting." Finally, Shane Warne has made himself useful to me. I wish he could be more useful, frankly.

Now formally hot and bothered, humidity having accompanied me all the way. Thought I might stop for lunch at a place the LP says the death by chocolate is to die for, but sadly, my driver said he needed to go to the hospital to have a tooth looked at. I'm sure that the sore tooth had nothing to do with a phone call he received where he was taking down flight details - because, of course, he's working for me until tomorrow morning...

Which way up

In any case, returned to air-conditioned hotel for multi-dessert buffet lunch, with the intention of attempting death by chocolate for dinner. Driver called to confirm that his tooth operation was successful and he would be able to drive me.

Spray'N'Wipe Cleaning Product Name Of The Day: Colin

Please stop talking to me when I’m eating

Saturday 14th June
No, really, please.

Maybe it’s just a given that if you’re a female eating by yourself you must feel lonely / uncomfortable /unloved / something bad. And the job of the hotel staff is to make guests feel at ease. And they have always been fairly attentive when I’ve been in a group, so it’s not just me. And I guess they like Australians because of the cricket. And, inexplicably, Shane Warne. But sometimes you just want some Bat‑waiting­‑staff‑repellent.

I ended up back at the resort by 9am, instead of the previously‑advertised midday, and arrived in Cochin by noon. My driver needed to go back to his office (not sure why), and the hotel’s a bit out of the way, so I’ve spent the afternoon showering the boat humidity off, buffet lunching‑and‑multiple‑desserting at my waiting‑staff‑intensive‑leisure, then sorting through photos, getting laundry done, etc. And purchasing some wi-fi time for blogging leisure activities.

Went for a wander to look at the pool (full of kids with adults looking on - I don't think I will get any pool time until I hit Goa), the gym and steam-room (closed for maintenance this weekend), and gift shop (closed down). There was a lot of smoke milling around outside, stifling the doorman. I asked whether there had been a fire, but no, they were simply fumigating the atmosphere around the building to get rid of the bugs, and presumably any pesky doormen. I guess it's a daily preventative measure, they have a couple of open-air restaurants.

Colourful Building Of The Day:

Not its true angle

Is a prawn still a prawn when it’s really, really big?

Friday 13th June
Heh. I’m writing this the day after, so I’ve only just noticed the date.

So after a number of phone calls, we established that the houseboat would pick me up at midday at the resort, and drop me off at midday at the resort the next day. Part one was accomplished without error.

Boat was nice enough, once again felt a little over‑staffed – three crew and just one of little ol’ me. Very pleasant, relaxing ride, and peaceful. The only rain happened just as the boat arrived, maximising my opportunity for wetness, which is always something to take advantage of.

Calming Kerala backwaters

Rice paddies - producing short, fat, rounded rice

Managed to get some decent reading done. Finished Alexander McCall Smith’s The World according to Bertie (where Bertie is a boy, not a dog), which I picked up in the airport, strangely against my original inclination to get the trashiest novel I could find (I put back the trashy rip‑off of the Da Vinci Code). Then I got started on Arundhati Roy’s The god of small things. Some strange synchronicities:

• Both books are written in a similar style, though TGOST is more intricate, and not so clever‑and‑knows‑it. (Though TWATB is still enjoyable, it’s a little more self­‑conscious than the No.1 Ladies’ Detective Agency books.)
• TWATB: one of the characters dreams of visiting the backwaters of Kerala (which is where I was, on the houseboat); one of the characters is called Ulysses; another character has controversial crushed-strawberry-coloured pants; and one of the blurbs in the front says AMcCS sees the god in small things.
• TGOST: set in the backwaters of Kerala (one of the reasons I was reading it, because I was there); there is a discussion about Ulysses; one of the characters has a non-controversial crushed-strawberry-coloured t-shirt; the book is called The god of small things.

Additionally, reading TGOST here was great, because it gave a lot of context to things like the hammer-and-sickle signs I've seen everywhere, and even to the cut-down version of the Kathikali performance I saw the other night.

A passing fisherman sold me some tiger prawns for my dinner. The 500g of prawns contained three (count 'em... one, two, three!) prawns. One was twice the size of the other two, which puts it at about 250g. It was enormous! And very delicious, sweet, grilled with curry paste. As were the other two.

Dinner: before

Dinner: pre-after

I’m not sure what I’m going to do when I get back, the food on this trip has been fabulous, particularly the vegetarian – thanks to my vegetarian colleagues, or I wouldn’t have tried so much of it to start with. I’m preferring veg to non‑veg dishes, though I will continue to explore the seafood a bit now I’m on the coast.

In Thekkady I purchased a cookbook - The South Indian Tiffin: Over 300 Vegetarian Recipes. That should keep me going, and my spidey‑sense tells me that a friend wants to borrow it. Hmmm… it has seven idli recipes. I suspect other friends also want to borrow it. I might have to acquire some idli moulds.

Breakfast, Kamat-style

Lunch, Raj-style

Able to scare small children with a single smile, it's... SuperTourist!

Thursday 12th June
The drive to Kumarakom. 3 ½ hours at most. But then we got to a certain point, and my driver said “I live over there”. He lives in the region. Did I want to take a detour which wasn’t very long, and we would come into Kumarakom from the north rather than the south. Ok, why not? We had to go overland in a jeep to get to his house, which he had bought a few months ago, because the track was so bad his car couldn’t make it. So he works in Cochin, and lives here, several hours’ drive away. He said he comes back every month or two. His parents, who work on the tea plantation – an 80 year‑old plantation, planted by the British, and not nearly as tidy as the other ones we’ve seen (mainly owned by Tata, which seems to own most of India) – live in the house with his brother, his brother‑wife and children.

He was clearly very excited to be home on an unexpected visit, and I was given a cup of tea and a large plate of biscuits, cakes and banana chips to enjoy. I briefly saw the sister‑in‑law, then she went and hid, I had a few words with his brother, and managed to repeatedly scare the two small children, who had never seen a foreigner before. And also one teenage girl who peered around the door, then giggled and ran away when I said hello.

The house is a simple cottage with a couple of rooms, a calendar hanging off a cross on the wall, and satellite TV. And they have a view to die for.

My driver is studying electronics, and driving to pay for it. He has two years to go.

Made it into Kumarakom, still having a number of near‑death experiences every day. General rule of thumb: if you are going to pass another vehicle approaching the crest of a hill on a blind corner, there will always be a giant truck coming the other way.

Was very muggy when we arrived at the Cocobay Resort parking lot. Noticed that my water bottle was squooshed in from the increase in air pressure – I guess we’ve been at around 1,500 to 2,000 metres for the past four days or so and now down to sea level. And it might explain my less‑than‑stellar performance in the gym. Haha. It’s a really big change from being comfortably cool in a t-shirt and shorts or jeans, to being swamped with humidity.

So. Spent some time at the carpark, because the problem was that I had to catch a boat to the resort itself. So I needed to know what time to get picked up tomorrow to go to the houseboat. Or know whether I actually need to get picked up at all, the houseboat might come to the resort. And where to get picked up the next day. Driver tried calling the number listed on the voucher, but it wasn’t helpful. I called Shubha, my travel agent, and she promised to: find out; tell the transport agent, who would get back to my driver and let him know. And he will call me sometime this evening… So I guess someone will eventually tell me what to do, and hopefully before checkout time tomorrow… My driver is really very sweet, he made sure I had his number (I thought I did, but he seems to have switched phones or numbers or something) – and if I have any problems whatsoever I’m to call him for help!

Slow boat to resort

Resort is fine, room is big, bed is hard (which is fine, but unlike Cardamom County where the bed had a giant doona as an undercover and was like sleeping in a cloud) (a pretend cloud, not the damp, uncomfortable real kind of cloud I’ve spent the last few days wandering around in). Restaurant is outdoors, and I had to order my meal in advance and say what time I wanted to eat, so they could cook it for me. Pro: meal is freshly‑made (theoretically). Con: you have to know what you are going to want and when. A general pro: the fresh lime soda is good. Actually, I’m quite counting on the freshness pro, I chose prawns malabar without considering the consequences…

Truck Name Of The Day: Clearance
Sign Of The Day: Child Friendly School

Who brings a radio on safari?

Wednesday 11th June
Really not sure what day it is today. Had to check on my mobile several times.

Being a bit lazy, I agreed to my driver’s suggestion of taking the 9.30 safari boat at the Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary (I was fairly sure there was one at 6.30, it says so in the LP, and that there’s a better chance of seeing animals then, but, well, I was just feeling lazy). So he picked me up at 8.15, to make the ticket counter opening at 8.30. We were there first, early, but some dude pushed in front of me (or was more attentive to the desk opening… whatever…) – and he bought 28 tickets! OMG! Was I even going to get a top deck ticket? Turned out ok, there were a number of boats.

In true Indian style, what seemed to be a well organised and ordered affair suddenly erupted into chaos after everyone was aboard. Something to do with there being several boats, and one boat being almost full and another one being almost empty. Somehow it all resolved itself without anyone actually changing to another boat, and we left.

Indians do not know how to be quiet! It wasn’t just the families, you have to expect some noise from kids, that’s what they do. But there were the raucous laughers. The mobile phone conversations. And the radio. Really, who brings a radio on a wildlife safari? So despite all the signs telling people to be quiet, we weren’t, really… Mind you, should I have been surprised, given the way the road rules are followed…

No Peters allowed

Most of the wildlife was a bit far off, but it was a very pleasant boat ride. We did see a cobra close up, some water buffalo as specks in the distance, a boar and some bison. Spotting the bison was very well done, in my opinion, as they were walking through deceptively high clumps of grass. I would have said the grass was only a foot or so high, but unless these were midget bison, it was a lot taller than that.

Midget bison or giant grass? ... you decide...

Having completed a lovely morning cruise, we went in search of a tea factory to inspect, which was both interesting and a bit disappointing, but in a good way.

Ended up at the Connemara factory, and they give free tours, no tipping please. So I had a personal escort through the factory, with about the same employee and visitor safety standards as the sugar factory I went through in Mauritius, ie, none.

But it was very interesting, the tea is dried upstairs on cool air driers for 14 hours before being sifted downstairs into a big mechanical chopper. Then the leaves are variously chopped, pulverised, sifted, dried, steamed, fermented, heated and sorted into different particle sizes. This is the slightly disappointing part – particles. None of that leaf tip, full leaf stuff, this is not Twinings. The factory creates pulverised tea molecules for teabags. And they have a number of different particle sizes, the largest (and therefore weakest flavour) is called Pekoe, and the rest have different names that I can’t remember, until you get to the finest grain, which is the strongest, and preferred by Indians. Which I can vouch for. With lots of milk and sugar. And strangely, as a non tea drinker, I don’t seem to mind. Perhaps the location makes a difference. I really loved Vietnamese coffee in Vietnam, but it’s not nearly as good when I make it at home (though not having the exact right ingredients could be a factor).

The rain started coming down, and just when I thought my day was about over, my driver asked if I wanted to go for an elephant ride. I’m slightly against elephant rides for the sake of it, I don’t mind the concept of doing a safari and actually going somewhere, but I figure doing endless laps of a small area must be boring for the poor elephant, and I don’t want to add to their misery. Assuming they are miserable doing laps with shrieky tourists on their backs.

Anyway, the Anavachal Road Elephant Camp (“Take Home a Trunkful of Memories”) was fine – the elephants looked healthy and happy (though not being an elephant expert, I could be wrong about the happy part). I allowed myself to be convinced to purchase the full package, including elephant ride through the plantation, feeding the elephants, elephant bath and shower, then logging demonstration.

So we went on our walk – mine was extended to go through the tribal jungle (er… village… er... whatever…). Imagine the excitement of a foreigner riding an elephant past a primary school at lunch time… in any country… There were shrieks and screaming and waving and running after the foreigner on her elephant. And then we went back past the school again – this time I had my camera ready, so added to all of the above there was the excitement of being photographed by a foreigner riding an elephant…

Elephant-riding-foreigner-induced primary school chaos

Fed a couple of elephants with these little sweet fried pastry things. They loved them! Not sure how good it is for them – do elephants have to watch their weight? One of them reminded me rather a lot of a dog I know, who would give an elephant a run for its money in the eating stakes. Turns out this elephant was pregnant – that’s about his league.

Then onto the elephant bathing. Giant pool, knee deep water. We (the mahouts and I) scrubbed her with pieces of coconut husk (the fibrous bit, not the shell, just like a scrubbing brush) – and she loved it. Totally. She just lay in the water like a giant goddess and accepted the tribute offered her. So that was the elephant bathing. I was invited then to participate in the elephant shower, ie I was to sit on her back whilst she showered me with her trunk. Apparently I’m being a bit of a wuss on this trip, so I declined, but she had her own ideas, and showered me anyway. Eh, it’s monsoon, I’ve been randomly wet several times already, and it’s not the first time I’ve encountered elephant snot on this trip…

A little more to the left, please

The logging demonstration was interesting – it was the elephant showing how she handles “here’s one I prepared earlier” logs – all directed by the mahout guiding her only with his feet. Very impressive. She rolled it with her trunk and feet, and then picked it up in her mouth, centering it for balance, and assisted with her trunk. Elephants are very smart.

Then I went for a wander around town, was not harassed to buy an onyx bracelet I tried on, found that the post office has an internet café (well, not so much a café, but internet access), decided not to purchase anything when a little old lady approached me with a selection of wicked looking knives, and checked out the prices of some spices. Thekkady is a nice little tourist town, unintimidating in exactly the way Munnar is not really.

My lazy day (as I had originally intended it to be) was finished off with two dance performances – the first a Kalaripparat martial arts display, which became increasingly impressive – the sword vs sword demonstration actually produced sparks. And there was uneven combat, eg knife vs piece of cloth (the piece of cloth dude won, swiftly hog tying knife dude, so someone else had to untie him so he could get up). And there is some yoga-esque element to it, one guy went through a set of exercises which culminated in him putting his legs behind his head.

Woke up with a kink in my neck

Then we zipped around the corner to see the Kathakali dance. It’s an old Hindu form of dance, and they started with an explanation of how the makeup is made (from grinding stones and mixing with coconut oil), to what the colours mean (green and white is good, black and red is bad) (I think). Then a demonstration of the acting forms used – facial expressions, etc, and a brief demonstration of the scene of a mother with her baby.

The eye roll

So on to the show. I was in the second row, and for some reason there was a fairly high concentration of small children in the region. All went well until the climax of the story, where the beautiful maiden revealed herself to be an evil hag, and both actors rushed repeatedly to the front of the small stage, shrieking … then there were a few more rather smaller people shrieking repeatedly…

The dance

Had a late dinner of paneer stuffed with dry nuts (well, there were cashews in the sauce, I think there was also some inside the cheese – in any case, it was delicious) and a Kingfisher beer. And a conversation about beer with one of the waiters. Because Fosters is everywhere, and once you say you’re Australian, you can talk about cricket and beer. And how long you’ve been in India, how much you like Kerala, and yes, you are travelling alone. It’s generally ok. And quite nice that most of the tourists I’ve seen are Indian families, not Westerners.

I have to say, that in the off-season, when the hotels are under-customered, one can be a little over-serviced. Perhaps also because I’m a female travelling by herself – every person I pass wants to have a chat. Which is all very well, but I don’t necessarily want to spend every spare minute being polite to people (outrageous!), and it’s not necessarily productive to wait until I have a mouth full of food before asking me how I’m enjoying my meal. And I haven’t decided yet if I like it when they fill my glass/plate the instant it’s looking a bit empty. I’m sure some people would like it (I’m thinking specifically of someone, here, you know who you are).

T-Shirt Of The Day:

Why you should never wear a t-shirt when you don't understand the language

A bus called Sharon

Tuesday 10th June
Today I saw a bus called Sharon.

I also saw a giant pink and purple bus heading straight towards me, and I have no idea how I didn’t see it until the last minute. The only explanation can be that I have become so inured to imminent death that I have ceased to notice it – either that, or its colours were so hideous that my mind blocked it out. Didn’t see its name, but let’s just call it PriscillaPlus and leave it at that.

Checked out dead on 9am, to hit the tea museum before heading to Thekkady. Except that the museum didn’t open until 10. So I asked my driver if we could see a tea plantation in Thekkady – he checked with his mysterious phone font of knowledge, and said we could. Mind you, that’s the same phone font of knowledge that said the museum opened at 9. So we took off straight on the 4hr drive to Thekkady.

The landscape was amazing – Munnar itself is a bit of a hole, and the Edassery Eastend hotel is the sepia sister of the Vintage Residency, only with more stars on the ceiling. But it’s worth spending time in Munnar for the scenery around it – yesterday was all mountains and tea, and today we spent some time on craggy rocks and tea (frankly, a little scary(ier than usual) in the car, because of a brief careen into a piece of jungle, I was envisaging a drop onto rocks... however, the scenery was great, and as we got to the other side of the mountains, we went into these little dells that were straight out of a fairy tale – the tea was all jig‑saw‑y, and the buildings looked like they’d been there forever and were held together by greenery.

Magical tea landscape

The road was a bit hideous in places, but where it wasn’t, we were travelling at up to 80km/hr – I think the sole road rule here is to drive as fast as conditions permit. We certainly went at safe speeds where the road was dodgy or gone. Oh, and the other sole road rule is never give in!

Bloody idiot, Indian-style

Thekkady is a much nicer place than Munnar, with shiny shops and all (though they tend to only be shiny at the front, once you go around the sides or the back the illusion is ruined). Checked into Cardamom County, and it’s very nice. Little cottages on the side of a hill (only mine wasn’t ready when I arrived, so they put me in one on top of some others on top of the hill). It has a pool, a bar, a gym, a spa and internet access.

After lunch, went to a Spice Garden – got a guided tour through all the spices and ayurvedic herbs from a very strange guy. A combination of very camp (note the manner in which he tucks his umbrella under his elbow), somewhat shy and shifty kind of like a stalker. But he seemed ok. Gave me lots of mysterious leaves to chew. I decided to take the afternoon off, maybe hit the gym – and give my driver a break, he did some fairly serious driving today.

Timing was good, rain started just after getting back. Once it starts, that’s it... (it is monsoon, after all).

Made an attempt at the internet – it was down, probably due to the rain – most things, most noticeably electricity, seem to be intermittent at this time of year. Then hit the gym. Two dodgy treadmills, a broken bike and a less‑broken bike, and a weights machine. Sat on the bike a while, then attempted the treadmill. All this sitting in cars has seriously affected my ability, generally crap at the best of times, to run. And, let’s face it, my motivation. A family group joined me in the gym, to play on the equipment. First up, the kids on the treadmill. Then the women on the treadmill. Shrieking occurring due to the fact that they were dressed in streetwear and their heeled sandals didn’t give them enough traction for the unexpected speed of the treadmill, which was going full‑pelt when they got on it… I left.

Something that constantly amazes me is the fact that women in saris, burkas, etc, all sit quite happily on the back of a motorbike, apparently oblivious to the fact that they are rather firmly attached to yards of fabric freely flapping mere inches from the swiftly‑revolving spokes of the bike wheel. I suppose Isadora Duncan‑esque natural selection comes into it somehow.

Road Rule Of The Day: ...rule?

What does monsoon rain look like?

Monday 9th June
Very sad ad I’ve been seeing on TV lately – about a girl who lost the love of her life to someone with paler skin. Oh, if only she’d been using the Ponds skin lighteningerer.

So, back to the day. Gave the tea museum a miss, mainly because it’s closed on Mondays. Apparently. Will try again tomorrow.

India is a very noisy place, particularly my hotel room. Traffic noise – it goes away eventually. Mosque noise – happens periodically. Clock chime noise – practically hourly. Echoey screaming children in the corridors – constant. Right now, the children seem to be performing some form of construction activity.

If the jummering gets too much for you, try the reiki

Went to the Eravikulum National Park – the place is supposed to be famous for some kind of rare goat. Got to see one. From a distance. We were only allowed a certain distance up the road, I’m convinced there were dozens of them gambolling just over the next rise.

Goat

We were basically walking through clouds, except, you know, tarmac, not soft, fluffy cloud stuff.

Clouds and tea

Proceeded on to the Top Station. It rained. A lot. It rained all the way down the steep and muddy stairs, until I got to the furthest lookout I was prepared to go to. Got a great 360 panorama of the view – rain, as far as you can see in all directions – though I have to admit I could still see the hill I came down. Just. What does monsoon rain look like? Difficult to tell, through all the grey.

View from Top Station, Munnar

My driver recommended a restaurant for a late lunch, and it was very nice – plus had payasam for dessert – yummy spiced rice pudding and sweet, sweet, sweet!

Then for a 90 min massage and steam bath – oily, oily, oily! Swiftly followed by a steamy and hot, hot, hot shower.

TV Award Category Of The Day: Best Actor in a Negative Role

Stars on the ceiling

Sunday 8th June (addendum)
Now there’s something you don’t see every day – and it’s a value‑add, they certainly didn’t mention it in the brochure… glow‑in‑the‑dark stars, planets and rockets on the ceiling of my room. And they glew all night.

What exactly is a musk melon, and should I be scared?

Sunday 8th June
After an uninspiring breakfast, checked out of the Vintage Residency (actually 3km from MG Rd, as opposed to the advertised 1km), leaving my safari buddy to his own devices until his evening flight out. His own devices apparently involved teaming up with our driver to extract vouchers from expensive tourist shops – when a driver delivers you to a shop, they get a voucher, whether you purchase or not. I guess at some point he got sick of shopping and sought revenge.

Arrived at the airport and checked in within an hour of leaving the hotel (so much of travel in Bangalore depends on the time of day) – a Kingfisher dude was roaming the carpark looking for tourists to assist to the terminal, he marched me straight up to the counter – for free! It’s his job!

Plane was a rubber‑bander (albeit larger than the ones I had in Mexico), and the flight was half‑empty, which was nice, and the food… for a one‑hour flight, we had a full‑sized dish and a piece of chocolate mud cake – it was fantastic! Go Kingfisher Air! Though it must be said that “musk melon juice” does taste as odd as it sounds (and for future reference, a Bangalore Torpedo ‑ beer, gin, anise and lemonade – does taste exactly the way you think it does. The Shandy From Hell). That musk melon drink repeated on me for all four of the windey road hours to Munnar.

At Cochin, found my driver easily enough, though he was a bit surprised to discover that we were going straight to Munnar, rather than a hotel in Cochin. But we sorted that out. We are going to be best buddies for the next nine days. As I discovered when I actually added up all the days in the monsoon part of my itinerary. If I stay here long enough, the monsoon might beat me to Goa, for an all‑round experience.

It turns out that people drive the same way in Kerala as they do in Bangalore. Except that there are many fewer cars. So to the usual description of the driving experience, add the phrases “at speed” and “hurtling towards”. Then for fun, add “windey, jungley, mountain road”. And “monsoonal rain”. So it’s appropriate that the first bus to loom around the corner was called HOLYMARY. That’s pretty much what I was thinking at the time.

“Hotel” continues to mean snack‑bar / restaurant, whilst “tourist home” appears to mean hotel. "Inn" means inn.

Stopped for a cup of tea on the way up the mountain, at which point the rain started coming down. Proper rain, where every drop equals a bucket in normal currency. Note to self: purchase umbrella at next opportunity.

Saw some tea plantations whilst driving through the clouds – the leaves are much larger than I’d thought they’d be. Will attempt to visit a tea plantation tomorrow, and will get advice from driver as to what else to see – we will be going near wildlife parks after we leave Munnar, so maybe tomorrow should be tea.

It’s quite cold up here now. Hopefully shorts and a sweatshirt will be ok tomorrow. Mainly because that’s all I have.

Store Name Of The Day: Stationery and Bakery