Mysore Feet

Mysore is home to 2 million people, small by Indian standards but still a hustling and bustling hive of people, traffic, cows and tuk tuks.  On arriving we pass the Maharaja’s Palace, churches, temples, markets and crowds of people. The colour, the noise, the traffic and the dust - it’s a bit of a shock to our system as our experience of India to date has been in the quiet countryside and one street towns.

The Bazaar - Mysore

As we near our hotel we pass a roundabout upon which a sign sets out all the rules of the road and the associated fines.  From sitting in the ‘ladies seat in Mysore City bus’ to ‘Misbehaviour with the police’ all misdemeanours have a price to pay.

The dearest fine is about £3.75

We visit the Devaraja Market, a famous and lively bazaar in search of Kumkum, the heaps of brightly coloured chalks used in painting and for bindi dots. A number of stalls sell the powders and as the stalls are grouped together they make for an eye watering display.

Kum Kum - Devaraja Market

The smell of incense and spice is everywhere.  The stalls selling incense sticks and essential oils are all looking for customers and offer demonstrations of how to hand roll joss sticks. We watch, we smell the aromas of the essential oils, many of which are used in more familiar perfumes, and as usual we succumb to the sales patter and buy some oils to try.

The vegetables section of the bazaar is equally dazzling with bright clean and wonderfully displayed fruit and veg begging to be bought.  One stall sells nothing but tomatoes with thousands on show for the buyer to choose. 

Tomato World - Any size any shape, any colour

At each stall the vendors are busy topping and tailing the produce, removing wilting leaves and generally ensuring the fruit and veg are displayed to their best. A cow wandered past us stopping to nibble at the discarded leaves on the floor.  No one took any notice and  we just carried on.

A cow grazes through the ginger roots

The flowers and garlands section was a sea of bright colours and heavy fragrances.  Petals and buds are used for making the garlands and the flower wholesalers are shouting loudly looking to beat their competitors to the sale. We stop to admire the skill of the old ladies who are sitting on the floor and who rapidly assemble long lengths of yellow, white and red garlands, tying individual buds and flowers on to lengths of thin twine.

Flower garlands all made on site by hand

The market is an assault on our senses and leaves us exhausted at the riot of colour, smell and noise.

Garland Makers - Devaraja Bazaar

Our next test is that of patience and we are tested to the max at the railway station.  We want to travel on the Indian Railway and need to sort out reservations and tickets.  Unfortunately, we are booking at a time of major celebrations (Pongal) and the world and his dog are travelling.  Those who haven’t already got their reservations are in front of us in the booking office.

The reservations area is confusing to us but we understand queuing.  We take our number (291) and wait our turn.  There are two counters and number 212 has just clicked over.  We wait then spot a separate counter for women with a small queue. I join and jostle with the others until my turn arrives only to be told that I need to have the train numbers for the journeys. I’m directed to the enquiry desk outside where I join another queue and pick up chits that I need to fill in to buy the tickets. Eventually I push and shove my way to speak to the one attendant on duty.  She takes my chits and announces that the first 2 trains I want are already over-booked in all classes but I can go on standby.  She writes down the numbers and I return to the original queue.  One of the locals has the cheek to tell me there’s a queue – don’t I know it! Eventually, I hand over the completed chits only to be told that the train numbers are in the wrong place.  As I start to copy the numbers from the top into the middle of the chit the person behind me pushes to get served.  I’m getting used to this and hold my ground, elbows at right angles whilst copying the numbers and shove my chits back through the small hatch to the man who  informs me that all my choices of train are now all fully booked.  Aaaaaaaaaargh!

I book standby tickets without a clue as to what this means or how it works, hand over about £20 and at this point the guy asks for our passports which I do not have. So he cannot confirm any thing and tells me to return with the correct documentation plus the receipts for the money I have paid the next day.  Shades of the Banderawela post office – it’s taken almost 3 hours  so far and we still ahven’t got a seat on any train.

We were both a little nervous about visiting Mysore zoo as you are never sure what conditions you will find.  We’re pleasantly surprised to find the zoo clean and the animals looked well cared for. The highlight was at last seeing tigers. The tiger pen was big and grassy and a couple of the big cats lolled contentedly in the long grass almost invisible yet less than 25 feet away.  

What of the hunting, hunter bold?

A gorgeous white Bengal tigers sat regally almost posing for its photos.

Absolutely beautiful

One thing I hadn’t appreciated before visiting India was how many Indians themselves travel around on holiday.  The zoo is mobbed by parties of Indian holiday makers and large groups of excited school children all enjoying their day out.

The zoo was huge and amongst the other highlights were the giraffes, beautiful pink pelicans 

Pink Pelicans - could have been worse it could have been pink elephants!

and a whole variety of crocodiles who even as they lounged in the mud had an air of malice about them.

Don't get cocky - you'd make a nice set of luggage

We also witness the bravest mice on earth.  Cobras, described as fast and aggressive hunters by day and by night share their glass fronted pens with their food – a number of white mice who act as if they haven’t a care in the world.  We watch spellbound as a cobra slowly uncoils toward a couple of mice resting in a nook in the rocks – nearer and nearer the cobra gets, the mice oblivious to any danger until the snake is no more than inches away – it’s flicking tongue can touch their fur – the mice jump – the cobra surprisingly backs off and the mice live to fight another day – although I suspect their luck will have changed by now.

The Maharaja’s Palace is said to be amongst the grandest of Indian Palaces.  We start early and the palace lives up to expectations immaculate grounds, large and ornate temples and superb interiors.

The Maharaja's Palace - Mysore

No cameras are allowed inside the palace – you’re supposed to put them in a locker before entry but I had ours in my bag and the x-ray machine we pass through picks them up. I give my word to the attendant that we will not use them and he lets us in.

Rules are rules and I keep my word.  Obviously the rules are interpreted slightly differently by the huge number of Indian tourists who snap away with cameras and mobile phones, some of whom ask to pose with me for photos. John tries to charge 20 rupees a snap but no one takes him seriously and they snap away .

The palace was rebuilt at the turn of the last century after fire destroyed the original building.  Room after room oozes opulence with large murals and paintings of the Wodeyar Maharajas and their families.  The murals depict the Maharaja’s annual parade around Mysore with well turned out cavalry and foot-soldiers, elephants in their ceremonial garb and all manner of hangers-on including a division of the Maharaja’s bag-pipers complete with big hairy goat mascot. 

The picture frames are beautifully carved in stone or rose wood, and the trinkets and ornaments on display are exquisite, especially the collection of sandlewood boxes which contained petitions to the maharaja who ruled Mysore before independence.

On the second floor there’s an amazing court room which contains green and gold pillars which give the impression that the room stretches on into infinity – it doesn’t but our bare feet on the hard marble floors felt it might. Stained glass windows, silver engraved and ebony doors inlaid with ivory vie for our attention in possibly the best palace.  Sadly, as I haven’t a photo to show you’ll have to take my word.

On our last day in Mysore we poke around the bazaar area that surrounds the market. We investigate the noise of drumming which usually announces the opening of a shop or as we saw advertised the grand opening of an ATM machine.

We find a group of bare-chested dancers with drummers wandering up the road and bringing all traffic to a standstill as they perform their routine.  They are followed by what appear to be real whirling dervishes who have vicious swords and scary facial hair as they spin around pausing only whilst their followers attempt to erect a giant caber adorned with brass cymbals and bright silks.  

Whirling Dervishes in an off duty moment of non whirling

We haven’t got a clue what’s going on and many of the locals seem oblivious to the efforts being performed in front of them.  

We follow the little parade for a wee while as they carry on their routines in 33 degree heat before watching them move off drumming, dancing, spinning and cabering into the distance.

Mysore has been interesting and hot but we are ready now to move to the cooler climate of Ooty in the Nilgiri Hills.  We’ll  let you know how we get on in our next blog – and whether we can sort out the train tickets!

Fame in the Wilderness

Our next stop is Wayanad National Park.  It’s an 8 hour drive from Fort Cochin to Kalpetta and we’re travelling in an Indian classic car – an Ambassador which reassuringly is built like a tank.

Built like a tank - so is the car

We pass through small villages and towns which hug the coast as we head north.  Men stand around everywhere chatting and watching the world go by, whilst the few women we see are working in the fields, fixing the roads or sweeping the never ending dust away from their homes.  Outside of Khozikode we turn inland toward the mountains.  The road to Kalpetta is steep and narrow and at one point there is a series of nine hairpin bends that carry us high above the surrounding jungle. 

Tricky bends - but we can relax as we won't be going back this way

The road surface at each hairpin is atrocious with most of the tarmac gone leaving deep ruts and loose stones although these conditions do not slow the downhill progress of the many buses and lorries that force other road users to dodge and swerve out of their path.

 We stop to take photos of some of the breathtaking views and can see far below the twisting road that we’ve negotiated. Ice cream sellers are strategically placed at every viewpoint offering their wares.

Not Mr Whippy - more Mr Softee the purveyor of melted ice cream!

Eventually we reached the Chembre Heritage Hotel – the room has fine views of the countryside and hills but there’s a problem – they do not sell alcohol.  We plan a tuk tuk ride into Kalpetta to secure the necessary beverages but no tuk tuks come by.  Helpfully, the hotel manager jumps on his moped and heads off in search and returns followed by said tuk tuk. Our journey into Kalpetta is all downhill and to save fuel involves a fair bit of freewheeling – which is only marginally safer than walking.

Kalpetta is a working town full of men chatting and gawping at these Westerners who had stumbled into town.  We found a bar frequented by locals and on entering I was warned that it would probably not be advisable for a female to enter.  Peering through the door into the dimly lit room all I could make out was the shadowy outlines partaking in what could only be described as strong liquor.  I figured I could wait outside whilst John went in for our carry out.

Over the next few days the hotel arranged our sightseeing and we have had a superb time.  The weather has been hot and sunny and the countryside in Wayanad is stunning.

The Banasurasagar dam is the largest earth dam in India.  The huge artificial lake has islands dotted around which were once the tops of the hills. 

Views from the Banasurasagar dam

After wandering around we went for a ride on a speed boat to get some better photos and to enjoy a cool breeze – the temperature at 10 am already hitting 30 degrees in a place where everyone in Cochin said was cold!

Could be Scotland - except for the 30 degree heat

Back at the car we were parked next to a coach of girls and while I had a cigarette the girls giggled and talked to us through the windows.  When their coach driver returned he observed us chatting then asked John to take his picture with me. John agreed and suddenly four more drivers appeared to get into the picture.  John had to use each of their cameras to record the scene and so began  the start of my movie star status.

Pookot Lake continued our water theme and we hired an executive rowing boat.  The lake is small and John was keen to show off his rowing prowess although executive boats come with an accompanying rower.  Notwithstanding John’s intention to power the craft, the redundant oarsman hopped aboard as we pushed off and for the next 30 minutes we were accompanied by a reluctant chaperone.

John demonstrates his rowing skills - next year Henley 

In the water were black masses with lots of bubbles which on closer inspection were knots of large black tadpoles which our chaperone in a moment of lucidity explained would turn into small frogs.  Given that each tadpole was the size of a golf ball I would not like to bump into the frogs.

Killer tadpoles swarm to our boat

Soochipara waterfall was memorable not for the falls themselves but for the incredibly steep walk down and the numbers of young Indians who accompanied us.  The youngsters were in high spirits, laughing and joking as they made their way down.  Many stopped to chat to us and again we were asked to pose with them so that they could take our photo. 

We knew we were getting closer as the noise from below was raucous and as we reached the waterfall the boys where either in the water or stripping off into trunks or with towels around themselves to hide their modesty.  

Boys will be boys

They waved for us to join them but we declined.  All the girls in their colourful saris and long trouser suits sat and watched.  When we suggested they go in the water they giggled and blushed.  

...and girls will be girls.

Being the oldies we started back up the steep slope.  The walk is about 1.5 kilometres and we took it steady and through gasps for air, remarked that we must be getting fitter as we settled into a pace that kept us moving and before we knew it we had reached the top looking very hot but pleased with ourselves.

We had an early 5.30am start to take us to the Muthanga animal sanctuary.  We tiptoed past the sleeping porter, let ourselves out of the hotel and scaled the gate to meet our waiting jeep.

The journey in the jeep was bone jerking, particularly in Muthanga which has rutted tracks. In truth we didn’t see much of the wildlife – we’d hoped for tiger but had to settle for elephants, peacocks, deer and a big squirrel.  John also got to see some stars when our jeep bounced into another big dip and his napper smashed into the roof – maybe his language scared off the wildlife.

Even in the wildlife reserve the drivers cannot resist an opportunity to overtake

The day was young and after visiting a few historical sites we headed for the Edakkal caves.  There are wall carvings dating back to 3000BC and again there were hordes of Indian tourists but few Westerners.  When we arrived it was hot and muggy and we hadn’t appreciated that the caves were reached through a continuous steep climb of about 2 km. This walk made the trip to the waterfalls seem like a breeze. 

I might be smiling but it was the frozen smile of fear

Again, we were accompanied by coach loads of youngsters even more confident and chatty and requesting photos.  Surprisingly, as many girls as boys request snaps and our walk became something of photo shoot with frequent (and welcome) stops on the steep climb.  As we reached the first cave the path became treacherous with narrow steps and people going in both directions jostling past each other on the dangerously steep incline.

Another 'reluctant' photo shoot

We were becoming a dangerous log jam with increasing cries of “Hello, where are you from?” and “What is your name?” were followed  by the usual request for photos irrespective of the often perilous position we found ourselves in.  As the path became more difficult we reached a small plateau and I decided that I would stop at this point as getting down was going to be a nightmare.  

I can go no further.....

John continued on to the top whilst I was left to pose for photos while trying not to worry about getting down.  John said the views where spectacular from the top and the caves were interesting.

Views from the mouth of the caves

We’ve visited many lovely spots in Wayanad and tried a second safari at Tholpetty which was equally sparse on the animal front.  Our driver did however prove to be very good at spotting wildlife and at various times we stopped to see a magnificent wild elephant, langur monkeys and a wild boar.  

An old tusker wanders past ...

Great with stuffing and an apple

His ‘spotting’ approach did however leave something to be desired as it usually comprised driving on the wrong side of the road as we descended the mountain roads whilst staring into the under growth and largely oblivious of on-coming traffic. 

We are however alive to tell the tale although after two days in a jeep every joint aches. Our next stop takes us from the country and into the city of Mysore. We haven’t experienced Indian city life yet so in our next blog find out what happens when we get there.

New Year - WOW 2012

Judith, our fantastic host told us of the New Year procession going through the streets of Fort Cochin today. The town is going to be full of people from the neighbouring districts and she suggested that we avoid the crush and watch the parade from their friend’s balcony.  Wow – we have a ring side seat for the hottest ticket in town with a vantage point above the crowds.

Mel (Judith’s husband) told us that a 3pm start means nothing happens until at least 4pm and whilst waiting he gave us homemade wine and cake. At about 4 pm he took us up the road, introduced us to our host and promptly left to watch the procession on TV in the comfort of his home.

The sun was beating down, the crowd grew to more than 6 deep lining the road and the police shoved and cajoled the throng into some brief semblance of order. The women in the crowd were particularly striking as they stood in their bright and colourful saris.  Excitement mounted and the sound of the approaching drums announced the arrival of the procession.  Everyone jostled forward straining to see and the police busily shoved them back. 

The excited crowd get ready for the parade.

An enormous elephant led the parade and was followed by bands dressed in traditional outfits and sword fighters acting out complicated morris dancing sequences.  The noise of the drumming was loud and hypnotic as the procession moved past. 

Jumbo by name and by nature (for the eagle eyed).

The noise of the drummers was hypnotic

The procession included a beauty parade of ‘women’ dressed in their colourful finery and with immaculate make up.  Admittedly some of them looked a bit rough with big feet, thick wrists and misshapen chests but it was still a shock to learn that they were all men some of whom looked far too comfortable in their clothes and makeup.  In fact no women take part in the parade. 

Some of these chaps seem to know a lot about make up

All manner of floats passed by, each accompanied by their own sound systems and minders.   Some of the participants had obviously been working for weeks to build elaborate floats and costumes whilst other floats appeared to comprise blokes who had climbed on the back of a lorry at the last minute for a bit of a boogie.

Make your own mind up!

As time went on the crowd continued to press forward making it more difficult for the floats to pass by.  Many floats got stuck waiting for the crowd to be forced back to allow them to pass and as we watched, the sun started to drop with no end in sight for the procession. 

Prizes are awarded to the best floats and some of the entrants stood out, in particular a tank and soldiers all covered in a grey paint to resemble a statue of a national monument.  The men had to remain perfectly still for the duration of the parade which was especially hard with the snail pace progress.  A guy kept coming out to touch up the men and the tank with fresh paint as they dried out in the sun.

The winning float

Another float had warriors in kung fu poses balancing on posts and I don’t know how they kept their positions for the several hours it took to complete the parade.

I still don't know how they managed this.

I'll bet the guy in orange couldn't walk at the end

About 7 pm the procession came to an end and the crowd started to drift away which wasn’t easy because of the small side roads and the sheer number of people.  

The good natured crowd disburses

Our host advised us not to leave as purse and gold chain snatchers were known to exploit these jams. Not wanting to be rude we accepted an invitation to have a cuppa with our host, his friends and family.  Home-made wine, tea and fruit cake provided an excellent refreshment and we chatted happily for about 30 minutes until the crowds had disbursed. 

Our pictures don’t do justice to this amazing day.  The colours and the noise, the procession and the onlookers made for a memorable day and we are grateful to Judith for arranging our viewing and to her lovely friends for making us so welcome in their home and particularly on their balcony.

A First Taste of India

We arrived in India at 08.30 after a comfy 90 minute flight from Colombo - a small cock up on our part saw us flying business class which was a real treat – I only wish the flight had been longer!

Our taxi was waiting and we started the journey to Fort Cochin travelling through the large city of Ernaculam to get our first sights of India. It’s busier and a bit scruffier – and the heat even this early in the morning is a stifling 29C.  The driving however does seem a little more organised and isn’t quite as frenetic although everyone has a hand permanently on their horn (ooh er mrs).

The journey to Fort Cochin takes as long as the flight from Colombo. We are staying in a homestead which is very clean and Judith, our landlady speaks good English and is very friendly.  All the streets here are close together but our homestay is a little oasis surrounded by chaos. In the garden there are turkeys, doves and a Brahimy Hawk who likes to sit on a post next to the pond.  A well manicured garden has fantastic plants and shrubs including flowering cactus in pots and a climbing pepper corn growing up around a tree.

Eden Garden Homestay - Fort Cochin

We venture into Fort Cochin which is a small fishing port.  There are lots of tourists who have descended here to spend New Year’s Eve.  Walking along the sea front we watch the men fishing with Chinese nets.  These huge contraptions are operated by teams of men and look like giant boomerangs.  Lowered into the water and counterbalanced by large weights, the nets allow the fish to swim over them which are then hauled up by teams of men who strain to pull up the nets to scoop up the fish.  Each dunk of the net requires a lot of effort and the return of a few fish doesn’t at first sight look like a fair return but over the course of the day each net has a considerable haul of fish.  It must work as the nets have been here for more than 600 years.

Chinese Fishing Nets

Visitors can buy the fish and carry it over the road where for 100 rupees they can have it cooked on a grill come BBQ affair.

Jew Town is a short tuk tuk ride.  There are a couple of streets that house spice and antique shops catering almost exclusively to the tourist trade.  

Jew Town Quarter

The small shop fronts often open up into extraordinarily large galleries stocked with all manner of items from boats to stone carvings, silks and carpets. 

You can almost smell these spices

We eat at the Ginger House Restaurant which is on the river and offers cool breezes.  The chefs are busy preparing mouth-watering food in a large and spotlessly clean kitchen.  I wander in to the open plan kitchen to watch the food being cooked.  The skills and attention to detail of the chefs is remarkable.  Every dish is cooked from fresh ingredients and the prawns are kept alive in a bucket until ordered. One lady uses a torture device to extract coconut from its shell which goes into one of the many curries that are on the go. No microwaves or reheating left-overs here and the quality and taste of the ginger prawn curry is scrumptious.

A busy chef hard at it in the Ginger House

Whilst the shops and galleries are lovingly restored and offer a cool and pleasant experience it would be fair to say that not all the facilities are as inviting. 

Sounds inviting but the reality........

....is something different!

As usual we realise that tourist maps are not to scale and what looks to be just around the corner on the map is often a good mile down the road.  Luckily tuk tuks are cheap and plentiful with most journeys costing about 20 rupees (25p including tip!).  Reassuringly, tuk tuk drivers appear to have had driving lessons although a driving school named after the patron saint of lost causes is an interesting concept.  Training also appears to include the skills more often associated with Glasgow taxi drivers as we’re asked for supplements after 9.30pm – they haven’t yet introduced the boundary charge for Eaglesham but I’m sure they’ll get there.

Speaks for itself.

The town is decorated ready for the New Year’s celebrations - we will let you know how that goes in our next blog.  Until then, have a very prosperous NEW YEAR.