India: The saga continues

So, where were we? Ah yes. After recovering from my ailment, I hopped a SpiceJet flight down to Fort Cochin in the state of Kerala. Wow, WHAT a difference to the north! It was just much...quieter. Don't get me wrong it was still India and dodging cows and rickshaws or whatnot is all part of the game but it wasn't Delhi, let's put it that way.

Anyway, a driver was waiting for me at the airport to take me to Costa Gama Homestay run by Benson, an accountant, and his wife who's a teacher. What super lovely amazing people! They were extremely concerned about my health and wanted to make sure I was happy and comfortable and well fed. Once checked in, they sent me downstairs to my room in the home of Trevor and Fiona, the couple who rent Benson the space to run the homestay. More lovely people! They too sat me down in the living room and brought tea and suggested all sorts of remedies for my lingering cough. After a nice chat with them I took myself out to supper down the road, and then promptly fell into bed for a good 12 hours!

The next day I planned to do a bit sightseeing of Cochin, but alas the rain was torrential, so I had to sit inside and read- plus there was no way Trevor was letting me out in that weather, vigilant as he was about my recent illness! Eventually it eased off and I set off with a borrowed umbrella to see various churches and whatnot. There's a huge Catholic influence in the south of India due to the arrival of the Portuguese to Goa in the 1500s. I had a lovely walk, including a peaceful rest in St. Francis church. Although raised Catholic, I'm not really sure where I stand on religion- my own or others- but I have to say that when one is feeling a bit lonely and/or homesick, something familiar can do wonders and, well, a church is a very familiar place to me! It was like a spiritual Starbucks!

After that I hauled myself to the Internet cafe for a much-needed blogging session and took myself out to supper again down the road from Costa Gama. Afterwards I had a chat with Benson about what he suggested I do next. He was very keen that I take a backwaters trip around the Kerala waterways so I planned that for the next day. I was up early for the shuttle bus, and we (about 20 people) were taken aboard a rice boat for a leisurely cruise around the canals. It was gorgeous and unbelieveably peaceful. The boat has no engine, so it just floats along, guided by a man with a stick. I promptly fell asleep, rocking to and fro'! We stopped along the way twice to learn about some of the cottage industries of the area- a limestone factory (I'm still vague on this, something to do with shells, not ACTUAL limestone?) and a coconut rope factory. By factory I mean, mud hut and one piece of makeshift machinery, but hey. We stopped one more time for a delicious lunch served on a banana leaf, and I had a lovely chat with two French girls on holiday for the week as they're studying for a year in Delhi (may the force be with them!). Afterwards it was more floating, more napping, more picture-snapping. Lovely day.

In the late afternoon I was dropped back off at the homestay and Trevor and Fiona immediately sat me down to hear all about my day ("Well, I slept a lot...) and before long I was hearing all about their son and daughter (who's in PR!) who both live in Mumbai and looking through the latter's wedding album from the year before- Trevor and Fiona are Catholic so it was a traditional (well, to me) white wedding. Trevor then told me that their 26-year-old son was having girlfriend problems, and wanted Fiona to come and visit and sort it out. They were soon on the phone with both children and at one point Trevor said to his daughter, "Don't worry, Mummy's coming!" Mummy's coming! Oh my goodness I would have given a lot to hear someone say that to ME- you know all is well in the world if your mum is on the way! It was lovely to spend that short time living a bit of family life and I'm really grateful to Trevor and Fiona for their kindness to me.

Later that evening I went to see Benson to pay for my stay and sort out the final details for my trip to Munnar and then ongoing journey to Goa. While waiting for him, I met Jade and Alan, a lovely English couple just starting an eight-month journey together. Turns out they would be arriving in Bangkok the same day as me- great, more friends in SE Asia! More on that in an upcoming post...

The next morning I was up at five to catch my rickshaw to the bus station for the four-hour journey to the tea fields of Munnar. I was planning on the 6:30am luxury express bus. Yes, well. If 'luxury' means a bus with absolutely no suspension, crammed full of about 900 people and with no windows (well, there was no glass or anything), then yes, it was extremely luxurious. My goodness- by the time we were bouncing along the twisty mountain roads of Munnar, I was not only about to vomit on everyone, but I had to use ALL my body strength to stay in the seat and not fly out the window. I had to wedge a foot on each side of the bar under the seat in front so that I didn't completely slide either into the aisle or through the window every time we turned, and I had to push upwards on the top bar of the seat in front so that I didn't fly through the roof over every bump. Nightmare- but a decent workout!

Munnar really was spectacular though- rolling hills and mountains of lush green tea plants in every direction. I found the guest house Benson had booked for me, run by a lovely guy called Deepak, and settled in for a rest after my early start. Later on I took myself out for lunch and a walk, and later out to supper where I met some nice Israelis who gave me tips on other parts of India, SE Asia etc. I went to bed fairly early that night, so as to be well-rested for my trek through the tea fields the next day, which was to prove an epic voyage in itself...

At 6:30am Deepak knocked on my door to tell me the weather was good enough for the trek and to be ready by 7. Once downstairs I met my fellow trekkers- a German couple and an Irish guy and his Polish girlfriend. We set off at 7:30 on a fantastic walk- fabulous views, good weather, good company. I was really enjoying myself, and then suddenly my ankle began to really sting. Figuring it was a bug bite, I looked down to see a massive leech sucking on my leg through my sock! I screamed like a little pansy-pants and reached down to tear it off. Man, that thing got me! It bled a TON and the guide had to give me a big ol' bandage to stop it. I was super paranoid after that and was anxiously looking at my feet the whole rest of the day- probably the reason I slipped and fell down about 17 times over the course of the hike, while no-one else fell once, seriously. Embarrassing.

After the leech episode, we stopped for a snack and a rest...and spotted three wild elephants! It was incredible to watch them wander about and we sat there for quite a while just looking. We then set off for about two more hours of walking, which was when it started to get quite difficult and I started to fall down. A lot. Still, the scenery was fantastic. One minute we were in the jungle, the next in the tea, the next in a valley of sorts. Our next stop was for breakfast (I was confused, but gladly gobbled down the bread and jam) and then we got on with four more hours of walking, again fairly treacherous in some spots. We saw all sorts of crazy bugs and things that we marveled at as we walked along, and occasionally came across the little mud huts of people who live in the forest and they would give us a friendly wave, to which I would generally respond by falling on my ass.

So, we continued to amble along and then, suddenly, it struck- the monsoon. It came CRASHING down (I though I'd seen the worst during ziplining in Jodhpur- no sir, not even close) and we had to run to some makeshift rickety hut thing for shelter while our guide dug out some ponchos and whatnot as none of us was prepared! We waited out the worst (we thought) and then dashed out towards our next destination, where it was rumored lunch would be served (it was 4pm at this point). After a little bit, a rickshaw came along and our guide managed to get all six of us in (seven including the driver- this SHOULD be illegal) and we were dropped off at another guest house in the woods where we were able to dry off (a bit- putting back on wet, blood-stained socks has GOT to be one of the worst feelings in the world) and get a yummy veg lunch/dinner. We hung out there, chatting and relaxing for about two hours, hoping the rain would ease, which it didn't really but eventually we had to get on our way (cue socks), and we set off again in our ponchos towards the main road where we were to catch a bus back to town and our guest house. After ten minutes or so of standing on a pitch black road in the pouring rain, a bumpy, windowless bus came to our rescue and we hopped on. But this was no ordinary bumpy windowless bus, friends. Oh no, this was...wait for it...the Catholic Party Bus! Woo hoo! This was validated by three things: 1) the rockin' Bollywood tunes blasting from the specially installed speakers; 2) the flashing red and green disco lights above the driver and 3) the massive picture of Our Lady looking over the passengers. I have to say, regardless of how I feel about religion and whatnot, I'm very glad the Mother of God was there watching out for us as we careened along mountain roads in the darkness, in a monsoon and crazy fog and in a 50-year-old bus likely not with sound brakes! Eek!

We made it back though, at about 7pm, and I have never, ever, ever been so thrilled for a hot shower, itself a rarity in India (unless you're at the Hyatt, dahling!). After 18 kilometers and massive monsoon action, I was OUT the second my head hit the pillow, feeling like I might never wake again!

I did, though, and the next morning I was up for another hellish bus ride back to Cochin to catch my train to Goa. It was as nightmarish at the first but I managed to keep my breakfast down somehow and arrived in Cochin at about 5pm. Benson came to meet me at the train station to give me my train ticket and then was kind enough to take me out to supper while I waited for my 8pm train. SUCH a great guy! Afterwards I went into the station and while waiting had a chat in broken English with a lovely old lady called Elsie (I think) who wanted to know if I was a Christian and if I was married. I answered yes to both, as I think that's what she wanted to hear!

The first thing I noticed when I got on the train- where I would be for the next 16 hours- were the cockroaches. Lots of them. YUCK! But, what was I to do? I set my bag down and took my seat, hoping I'd be able to find a way to sleep, and shortly another passenger approached me and was urgently trying to tell me something. I didn't really get it, but after a few minutes I realized he was trying to tell me there were RATS on the train and I should keep my feet off the floor. Oh Lord! 'Well,' I thought, 'that's it then, no sleep for me!' However, I couldn't maintain my vigil for that long, and eventually I did fall asleep and was lucky not to see a rat for the duration of my journey!

I arrived in Goa at noon the next day after almost 23 hours of traveling since leaving Munnar. I rickshawed to the bus stop to head down to the beach spot of Palolem and as luck would have it, there on the bus were two lovely English girls, Hannah and Emily, who would be my beach buddies for the next few days! When we got off the bus in Palolem, I joined them in looking for a place to stay- the options being limited as it was still the low season- but we found a decent enough guest house and settled in.

The next few days were spent on the beach, or in a beach cafe when the monsoon hit, or in the Internet cafe, or in the travel agency getting the next leg of my trip to Mumbai sorted. There was much girly chat, beer and wine drinking, hookah-smoking and such- lovely time, thanks so much again girls- such a pleasure! One particular activity involved avoiding getting into conversations with the Indian ladies who traipse up and down the beach trying to sell things. Every conversation begins with, "You have lovely skin, such lovely color, where you from?" and before long it's "Come to my shop, I give good price." There's nothing wrong with this in theory, they're just trying to make money, but I seriously couldn't get through ONE line of my book before I heard "Hello, lovely skin.." Sad thing is, though, some of these ladies had scars on their faces and bodies where they had tried to BLEACH their skin whiter, and there we were, trying our darndest to make our skin darker. Bizarre.

On my last day in Goa I had to get ready for another gut-wrenching (literally) bouncy bus journey back to the main station to catch my overnight sleeper bus to Mumbai. It was all right, but as is India's way, 12 hours soon became 15 and I missed my appointment at the US Consulate to get more pages in my passport, which was entirely full up. Grrr. My first day in Mumbai was therefore uneventful as I was exhausted so I found my hotel, slept, ate and slept again.

The following morning I attempted again to go to the US Consulate, armed with a new appointment time thanks to my friend Dan in Singapore who has mostly been in my time zone lately and therefore able to help me when I'm in a pickle! It was easy enough to drop off my passport with instructions to pick it up the next day, and afterwards I went for a little walkabout in Mumbai and found a shopping mall with AC for some breakfast. Then I caught a taxi to the Gateway of India where I snapped some pics and set off on the walking tour as described by Lonely Planet. Because I am sooo good with maps and things, I was lost almost immediately, but found myself in front of a museum where I overheard a hilarious conversation between a giant balloon seller (don't ask) and two Australians. I just had to join in, and was lucky enough to then meet Gabriel and Rohan from Brisbane with whom I proceeded to spend the rest of the day and night! They were in India because they had just spent 15 days driving auto-rickshaws across the north for charity- they had some INCREDIBLE stories! I abandoned the walking tour and we set off in search of bar because Rohan was in desperate need of a beer and I of air-conditioning. After a nice chat over getting-to-know-you beers, we caught a taxi to a famous antique market in the city, and moseyed around there for a while looking at all sorts of treasures. In the middle of all this, our beers caught up with us and all three suddenly became DESPERATE for the loo. There are something like 17 loos for every 1 million people in Mumbai, so it was a real challenge to find somewhere, but we ended up in a hospital...? At least we could relieve ourselves!

After that adventure, it could only be time for more beers, so we went back to the area of my hotel and had one of those 3-liter beer jug things with a tap that they bring to the table. We called them 'girafs' or something when I studied in France. I had a bit, and then while the boys polished off another 2-liter jug, I dashed across the road to get my glad-rags on for a fancy dinner as it was my last night in India and my new friends were willing to join me. We went to a brilliant place called Indigo and had a super fancy-pants dinner of risottos and duck and tortellini and things, paired with wine and whatnot. After dinner I headed home to bed so as to be up on time for my appointment at the Consulate, where I picked up my newly fattened passport with plenty more room for the numerous visas and stamps I am acquiring!

Afterwards I checked out of my hotel, and then tried to reach my Aussie friends to meet up again, but my phone kept saying Rohan's number was no longer in service (geez, thanks guys), so I gave up and took myself out for the sightseeing I didn't do the day before. The map I had was rubbish, and combined with the fact that I'm rubbish at reading maps, I basically ended up walking around a slum, which was lovely, as you can imagine. Soon enough though, I came across the bus entrance to the famous Victoria station (you know it from Slumdog Millionaire) and walked through it until I could see the impressive building that houses it, now a UNESCO site (check!). After a little wander, I found the post office and thought, ooh, I'll get some stamps now while it's open, and then find some postcards and drop them in a mailbox. Easier said than done! Getting the stamps was easy, but apparently, Mumbai is very modest and doesn't like to sell postcards with pictures of itself on it. WHAT a mission! It too me almost two hours to find some postcards and when I did they were RUBBISH, but I was literally running out of time in India and I'd already bought the stamps, so I had to get them. To the recipients of said cards (Tracy, Kristy and Mike, Steph T), as I wrote, I'm sorry to send you those horrible things clearly printed in 1975, but know my intentions were good!!

After the postcard saga, it was just a few hours until I had to go to the airport for my flight to Bangkok, so I did the obvious thing with my remaining rupees- took myself out for a glass of wine at the eternally posh Taj hotel (that which suffered the horrific terrorist attack in 2008). It was fantastic, and minus a security gate to get in, you wouldn't know such atrocities had taken place. I had a lovely glass of fancy wine and met two MORE Australian guys who had ALSO just done the auto-rickshaw thing across the north of India! Had a lovely chat with them until it was time to pick up my baggage and cab it to the airport.

As I boarded my Air India flight at one o'clock in the morning (which didn't let me down- flight attendants in sarees and 'dinner' served at 2:30am when everyone was asleep), I was genuinely sad to be leaving- India had taken excellent care of me for the past five weeks, and I had really gotten into the rhythm of life there (as much as there is one within the chaos!) and was getting a handle on, well, how to handle it! I will be forever fascinated by the culture, the people, the food, the colors, the smells, and I ASSURE you, Mother India, I will come and see you again. From the very bottom of my most humbled heart, NAMASTE.