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?