Cows Cows Cows!

The cow is a sacred and holy animal here in India and uses this very much to its advantage as it strolls sedately across the road and sleeps right in the middle, forcing the crazy drivers to act even more crazily!

Cows are everywhere here:

Attending temples!

At train stations!

Taking baths!

On the beach…

And, generally, all over the roads!

'Midnight's Children' by Salmon Rushdie

Most of what matters in our lives takes place in our absence

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‘Who, after all,’ she reasoned privately, ‘ever truly knows another human being completely?’

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To understand just one life, you have to swallow the world

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Nobody can face the world with his eyes open all the time

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Who what am I? My answer: I am the sum total of everything that went before me, of all I have been seen done, of everything done-to-me. I am everyone everything whose being-in-the-world affected was affected by mine. I am anything that happens after I’ve gone which would not have happened if I had not come.

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A nightmare:

No colours except green and black the walls are green the sky is black (there is no roof) the stars are green the Widow is green but her hair is black as black. The Widow sits on high high chair the chair is green the seat is black the Widow’s hair has a centre-parting it is green on the left and on the right black. High as the sky the chair is green the seat is black the Widow’s arm is long as death its skin is green the fingernails are long and sharp and black. Between the walls the children green the walls are green the Widow’s arm comes snaking down the snake is green the children scream the fingernails are black they scratch the Widow’s arm is hunting see the children run and scream the Widow’s hand curls round them green and black. Now one by one the children mmff are stifled quiet the Widow’s hand is lifting one by one the children green their blood is black unloosed by cutting fingernails it splashes black on the walls (of green) as one by one the curling hand lifts children high as sky the sky is black there are no stars the Widow laughs her tongue is green but her teeth are black. And children torn in two in Widow hands which rolling rolling halves of children roll them into little balls the balls are green the night is black. And little balls fly into night between the walls the children shriek as one by one the Widow’s hand. And in the corner the Monkey and I (the walls are green the shadows black) cowering crawling wide high walls green fading into black there is no roof and Widow’s hand comes onebyone the children scream and mmff and little balls and hand and scream and mmff and splashing stains of black. Now only she and I and no more screams the Widow’s hand comes hunting hunting the skin is green the nails are black towards the corner hunting hunting while we shrink closer into the corner our skin is green our fear is black and now the Hand comes reaching reaching and she my sister pushes me out of the corner while she stays cowering staring the hand the nails are curling scream and mmff and splash of black and up into the high as sky and laughing Widow tearing I am rolling into little balls the balls are green and out into the night the night is black…

The Moustache Museum

Sadly, the Indian toilet museum in Delhi was way too far away for our Delhi bellies to reach.

However we do have fond memories from this palace in Rajasthan we declared the Moustache Museum for it's gallery of handlebar "Raj Stashes".

They are quite exquisite.

A few messages from MK Gandhi on India - still words to live by.

While I prate about universal non-violence, my experiment is confined to India. If it succeeds, the world will accept it without effort.

My faith is biggest in the midst of impenetrable darkness.

Today the villages are dung heaps. Tomorrow they will be like tiny Gardens of Eden where dwell highly intelligent folk whom no one can deceive or exploit. The reconstruction of the villages along these lines should not begin right now. The reconstruction of the villages should not be organized on a temporary but permanent basis.

My patriotism is not exclusive, it is calculated not only not to hurt any other nation, but to benefit all in the true sense of the word. India's freedom as conceived by me can never be menace to the world.

The moment you talk to the Indian peasants and they begin to speak, you will find wisdom drops from their lips. Behind the crude exterior you will find a deep reservoir of spirituality. I call this culture.

All faiths are equal. I believe that they are all god-given and I believe were necessary for the people to whom these religions were revealed and I believe that, if only we could all read the scriptures of the different faiths, we should find that they were at bottom all One and were helpful to one another.

My goal is friendship with the world and I can combine the greates opposition to wrong. I have that impict faith in my mission that, if it succeeds - as it will succeed, it is bound to succeed - history will record it as a movement designed to knit all people in the world not as hostile to one another but as parts of one whole.

My life is an indivisible whole, and all my activities run into one another; and they have their rise in my insatiable love of mankind.

My life has been an open book. I have no secrets and I encourage no secrets.

I am not afraid to die in my mission if that is to be my fate.

The Kerela Backwaters

Chris - From Goa we continued south on nighttrains to Kerela, "God's Own Country", nearly to the southernmost tip of India. When we took our first walk down the streets of Alepepy, Steph proclaimed this to be the most ordinary and real experience we have found in India. Here nobody even thought to solicit or harass us. Everyone went about their business and we were very content to be clear of the tourist trail for a day. In fact, I was able to have two very local experiences here in Kerela.

First, some new friends of ours from the train recommended popping in for a chai tea at one of the tea shacks that line the roads with glass pastry boxes in the doorways. I found several of these the next morning on a walk to snap some street photos. The cramped tables inside were filled with old men filling up on their morning meals. A steaming cup of sweet chai was brought over immediately even though it seemed like it was already lunch hour. The old men expertly used their fingers as utensils when it came to pinching handfulls of the large puffy kerela rice mixed with some dahl (lentils) and scooping it into their mouths.

From these streets of Alepepy, we hired a converted rice patty boat (replica). We had it all to ourselves with a crew for a 24hr tour of the backwaters. This may have been our biggest splurge on the world tour. We decided to go or it because everyone has told us that it is absolutely one of the best experiences in India, and worth every penny. It was. A two bedroom boat with captain, chef and deckhand/tea boy, that set us back 80 pounds. We slipped past the simple, beautiful living for people whose colorful homes dot the small stretch of land that seperates the backwater canals from the rice fields. Most importantly we thought it was important to relax and enjoy some of our final days in India.

Then we ended the day with another very local experience. Steph asked the captain where I could go get an Indian shave to get rid of the 'brillo' beard that was getting out of control. While our chef was fixing dinner, the captain took us on the little public canoe over to a tiny village where I asked for a proper shave. We made friends in the barber shop and Steph and I were very happy with the smooth result and dropping my scruffy look :-) The Indians where perplexed when I insisted on losing my powerful moustache...

After getting lost in the backwaters we caught a bus to the Dutch/Portuguese colonial town of Fort Kochin. After visitng the mosques and temples in north, it was amazing to see the Christian corners of India and the oldest church, where Vasco de Gama was temporarily buried. Saturday was the first day of Divali - the festival of light. This is one of the main holidays on the calendar in India. We might be able to relate it to both Thanksgiving (focus on family) and Christmas (decorations and giftgiving) with many more traditions. But of course Divali is second to Christmas here in Kerala, so we flew back up to Delhi while the city was still decorated with lights and showered in fireworks.

River Crossing to the Village Barber Shop

Staying put in Palolem, Goa

Having had enough of the fast-paced travel and needing a little beach-bum action, Chris and I headed to the wonderful Palolem with the intention of staying for four days before moving up the coast to sample some more of Goa's sandy stretches.

However, the pictures (and our new geeky video diary!) say it all. It was just too beautiful and relaxing; we parked our bums and stayed in this idyllic paradise for ten days!

There was nothing to do but yoga...

Eat...

Read...

Sunbathe...

Eat some more...

Read some more...

Sleep...

We did, however, venture slightly further up the coast on scooters (much to the shock-horror of my Mum!). We seriously went at 15mph the whole way as we were too scared to go any faster! It was the first time I'd EVER been on a scooter and there was no way I was going on the back of Chris': his only experience with scooters was a CRASH at the age of 18. So... we got one each for - wait for it - £1.50 for the day! Of course, this didn't include helmets (nor insurance) but we insisted -yes, mum! - and were given some very large and non-fastening ridiculous helmets. Better than nothing I suppose!

Palolem was continually under construction while we were there, much to Christophe's frustration who hates the fact that investment is so short-term here. Every year, the people must take down their huts during monsoon season and then re-build them in time for the busy holiday season from November to March.

Mumbai

Chris > We are sitting at Leopolds for a few hours before our train. We found time here to catch our breath. Today there is an entire special edition of the Times of India comparing India to China on the day it has marked the 60th borthday of the People's Republic. Steph and I have long chats that leads to many comparisons of our own while the Times takes an insecure tone towards Chinese development. There is a steady roar around us from the loud groups of friends under the towering pillars and tired retro clock. It's sad to see the bullet holes in the front glass and the multiple guards at each entrance since it was attacked last November...but the crowds still pour in from Colaba Causway and the city pushes forward, inside and out.

I also realized here how much I truly enjoyed this cosmopolitain city and would add it to my short list of places to return one day for unfinished business (with Hong Kong and Shanghai). I don't think Steph would agree with this choice. Unfortunately wecame during a holiday weekend, limited by both the heat and heavy rain. It was not difficult to get around - the bumble bee cabs were great - but we had a very hard time finding a decent place to stay and this can make or brake a city as chaotic as this. Mind you, Steph also had to put up with me marching us around to find the city's famous eats. Still feel we only touched the tip of the iceburg...

This is city that India promotes as having 'made it' with it's booming middle class, but continues to turn it's back to seas of urban poverty. Greater Mumbai has 18 million people and is expected to grow to the world's most populous city by 2020. There is 1 bus / 1300 people, 17 toilets / 1 million people, and just 1 civic hospital for 7.2 million inside Bombay. There are sharp contrasts here. Our visit was decisively SoBo (South Bombay) where in the old British neighborhoods. Not only did we avoid the biggest slums in Asia, but we also missed some of the hotter neighborhoods of "NoBo" like the yuppie Bandra, or Jumu where Bollywood hangs out.

Mumbai has both old charm and an electric energy. Those who are fueled by a city's energy will be hungry for more.

Chris > A Top Day in Mumbai

A perfect day in Mumbai starts early. Wake up to the sound of seaguls from the port and the fishmongers who have already opened the Colaba markets at 5am. Start your morning with a stroll in old colonial Bombay between Victoria terminus and the Taj Palace. Be sure to head down MG road via the University (whose clock tower was modeled after Big Ben), the cricketers on Oval Maiden, and the English-Indian architecture that blends into the Prince of Wales Museum, built by the same architect as St Pancreas.

Sassoon Library - a welcomed oasis. For souvenirs try two addresses nearby. You could pick up a recent Indian CD from from Rhythm House Records across the street. Then dig through the antiques and curiosities at Phillips on Mukherjee Chowk circle, or tourist trinkets along Colaba Causway towards Sassoon Docks.

If the sun is already beating down on you, pop into the High Court for an animated trial or have a relaxing read on the balcony of the Sassoon Library - a quiet oasis. Eventually make your way to the India Gate where a mid-morning harbor crossing will take you to Elephanta Island. Here there is an abundance of ancient cave carvings to explore while protecting your food and drinks from the island’s monkey inhabitants.

Elephanta Island - The portugese used this island as a training ground for rifle practice. Today you are serious risk of getting your food or drink swiped by some very cheeky monkeys.

After an hour, hurry back to the city and hop into a 1950’s Fiat style bumble cab to Swati Sweets for lunch. Here you can sample Mumbai’s best ‘chaat’ (snacks) without tempting Delhi belly on the street. Wash it down with an alfonso mango lassi, if they are in season.

India Gate and the iconic bumble bee cab that weave through traffic with a rickety engine hum. But traffic here is notably quiter than Delhi since horns have been banned inside Mumbai. Drivers must also use their meter - a welcomed change to stressful haggling in the rest of India.

Mumbai can get hot and sticky in the mid afternoon. Catch a ride to the Liberty Cinema to take in a matinee of the latest bollywood film in art deco splendor. Unfortunately one-screen cinemas are becoming endangered spaces since the creation of the multiplex. However if you have saved some energy, try to brave the crowds and commotion of the Chor Bazaar ‘thieves market‘. Then end your day as many Mumbaikers do at Chowpatty Beach with a stroll a delicious sweet, salty and tangy ‘Bhel Puri’ snack.

Make it your mission to hunt down Mumbai’s famous snacks. Start with some Pankhi steamed pancakes. Then try a pav bhaji or ragda pattice. But be sure to pick up some Bhel Puri - a combination of puffy rice, crunchy graham, tomatoes, onions, mint chutney, peanuts, coriander and lime.

From here you could attend an evening bollywood dance class at the nearby Gold’s Gym. But I think it’s more likely you will need to head back to the hotel room for a much needed re-charge. You could treat yourself to some fine dining at Indigo near the Taj Palace... Just be sure to finish the day with a beer at Leopold’s - a time honored meeting place for ‘westerners‘. Bollywood may beckon a third time since many casting agents seek next day extras or foreign voice overs for a modest wage. And if you have another day, why not? It’s Mumbai!

Leopold’s - Always buzzing with life. Note the bullet holes still riddled across the center window. Sadly, security guards now stand at each entrance since this was one of the western hangouts targeted by terrrorists on November 26, 2008.

Jodphur

We arrived in Jophur shaken, exhausted and without accommodation at 10pm. The private bus from Udaipur was probably the worst experience we have had on our world trip. Our tuk-tuk driver in Udaipur recommend these as they are faster and more comfortable than public government buses. Let me tell you it’s not that we were unfamiliar with traffic mayhem here. But we should have known better than to get this advice from a rickshaw driver. They are often the tobacco spitting, cowboys of Indian road jungles in India. The journey was, as promised, in a comfortable coach with leather seats. Strangely the cabin sleeper bunks above the seats and driver’s section was mostly walled off. However the drive through the mountains and deserts kept us clenching to the seats the entire way.

It was a HORRIBLE experience. Firstly, the highway was closed so we took a farm road through the desert. But what was most frightening that nobody seemed to have any regard for the safety of people inside. An old man explained why this is. The drivers of private buses try to overtake every single vehicle in front of them so as to make faster more profitable journeys from city to city for the company. We were shaken inside this tin can the whole way. As everyone knows, a horn in India is used to say “I’m coming through”. Our horn never took a break in 7 hours. Every overtake was from a centimeter behind - a swerve that tilted the whole bus on angle, blindly into oncoming traffic. The oncoming trucks then became a game of chicken. The journey was 7 instead of 5 hours. We just couldn’t believe we traveled all this way for 24hrs in Jodphur. 2Why did we travel so far into the desert just take a night train back toDelhi? The famous fort had better be good!

Fortunately their was the Blue Guest House in Jodphur. The family took us in late that night. Their 500-year old blue building had some of the best decorated rooms we have seen on our budget tour of the world.

The next morning we went downstairs expecting a rushed tour of town before the train. Our luck changed when Manish, one of the owners, sat us down for a coffee. It turned out I accidentally gave him the address to this blog in an email the day before. He was really interested to hear what we thought of his hotel and what we thought of India. Manish also let us in on his enthusiastic plans to open a restaurant, internet café, and kerela massage parlor.

Through him we were able to book a great driver for the day and see all corners of town. We ate a fantastic uttapam and thali lunch at Pryia’s (a local institution) and washed this down with a sweet lassi from the clock tower market. But the highlight of Jodphur was indeed the fort that towers over the city. We took the rickshaw up the cliffs to the gate where, by chance, a procession was commencing up the spiral castle road. It was such good timing. This made Jodphur for us.

We were sweaty and completely overheated, but Manish then let us shower back at the hostel before grabbing the train back to Delhi. He even took us to see his future restaurant site - due to open in the next few weeks. We learned that day how a friendly host and home could really turn our trip around!

The journey to Jodphur...

Christophe asked me earlier:

“What has been worse, do you think:

* The 23 hours train journey from Xi’an to Shanghai with stomach bugs and no toilets except filthy holes in the ground?

* The 14 hour night train from Shanghai to Beijing, sitting up all night with people sleeping under our seats?

* OR this…"

Chris asked me this during the scariest bus ride of my life.

As there is no train service between Udaipur and Jodphur we had to take a 5 hour bus ride, which of course ended up being 7 hours. The bus ride took us first through mountains at crazy speeds, making us believe that the driver didn’t care for his life in the slightest! Following this, we went through desert roads which literally were deserted bar the occasional humongous herd of goats which we swerved off the un-tarmacced, pothole-filled road to avoid. We saw the occasional farmer tending to a very dry crop but apart from that, nothing but gravel and tarmac and a few scarecrows. And cows, of course.

It was a very bumpy ride to say the least. We found out that the usual desert road was closed so we were then having to take an even less-maintained track part way there. Finally, tarmac! We breathed a sigh of relief…until our driver began over-taking trucks at break-neck speed. He’d clearly dreams of being Lewis Hamilton, but seriously… wrong vehicle, mate. We were very unhappy and fearful (!!) at all stages of the journey but we could hardly demand to get off in the middle of the desert! Gosh. Christophe saved the day a little bit by getting his lovely laptop out (Lisbeth, yes - I am now a convert!) so we could watch very bumpy films to keep our minds from thoughts of bus crashes and rolling down mountains until the battery ran out...

Udaipur

Chris: Udaipur is known for being a romantic city and top tourist destination for Indians for a long time. We arrived off a delayed train at about 10pm without accommodation or food in our stomachs. So we scrambled for one of the only names we had, the famous ‘Lal Ghat Guesthouse’. It turned out to be one of the oldest guesthouses in India. The Lal Ghat’s charming rooms overlooked the lake in prime position. Within minutes we were on a restaurant terrace with an orange moon setting over the lake’s islands and mountains.

Udaipur’s intrigue was the setting for James Bond’s ‘Octopussy‘. Of course we followed in 007’s footsteps from the snake charmer where he first steps off the boat, to the palace hotel where he won at backgammon and had champagne by the pool with Magda. We sipped a Bombay gin and tonic as the sun set. From the terrace bar you can see the film continues across the water - from Kamal Kahn's fort in the Monsoon Palace, through the jungle where Roger Moore was hunted like a tiger, to the Octopussy’s island where he swam under an alligator disguise. We cherished these moments in the day at a nighttime screening of the film itself at a rooftop bar overlooking the Monsoon Palace.

We also found some of our own Udaipur treasures. In the morning a man welcomed us into his home for a cup of chai and a chat. Steph was not exactly in agreement with all of his views (such as women sticking to home chores and not being allowed out of the house even to go to the market) but we definitely welcomed his open friendliness. It was just a relief to meet his family and talk to people who were not trying to sell anything (it gets a little tire

some along the tourist trail).

After a very forgettable lunch with lonely planeters, we rummaged through the back of a tiny curio shop to find an antique, brass scorpion padlock and ankle bracelet for Steph. I also picked up a curious printing mold with the design of a very old moghul 1-rupee coin (before the formal British ones came in).

The old shopkeeper and his son were happy to show us how the mold could be used on metal imprint, wax stamp or even to print a personal seal on business card paper. We were lucky enough to later find an old bookbinder down a small alley. As we watched how the camel leather covers were engraved and then stained, the boys agreed to encorporate our stamp as a design in a custom made diary. This was probably the best souvenir we could bring back from India - for only 100 rupees (1.3 euros).

In Udaipur we woke up each day to the sound of a procession on the temple steps across the water. Worshipers were pouring water from the lake onto each other to the steady rhythm of drums. I would rise early to sit on the alcove stone balcony to order a pot of coffee and found myself watching the entire sunrise on the harbor. From here you could hear the swimmers across the bay and women pounding soap suds into their clothes on the steps where bond disembarked. It was from this spot, and these panoramic morning views, that I first fell in love with India.