Tamil Nadu

Many travelers that I've met along the way didn't have much to say about Chennai. Even lonely planet advises travelers to use it as a transit point, nothing more. They should have seen Chennai as I've seen it. Arriving early in the morning, I met up with a upperclassman from School, Harini, who was kind enough to spend part of her precious weekend showing me around Chennai. We first went to see Marina Beach and the Bay of Bengal - a casualty site of the 2004 Tsunami. Expecting a tranquil refuge from the hustle and bustle of the city, I was surprised by how strong and how dangerous the waves are. A few bodies of drunk college students were found just a few days ago near the the beach. There might as well be crocodiles. I kept my distance from the water. After seeing a few more sights, Harini being the thoughtful person that she is, sent me off to Mahabalipuram with a huge tub of cookies and chocolates which took on the role of breakfast for the next few days.

Mahabalipuram was another tourist enclave, famous for its 7th century temples and rock carvings. I had a great time walking between sights, climbing boulders, and taking cheeky pictures with this huge round rock called the Butter Ball. That was pretty much the highlight of my visit to M'puram. Dinner was again with more cool people I met along the way and by morning, I was on the bus back to Chennai. That was when I met Gwi Deuk. A petite Korean girl, you would not have guessed that Gwi Deuk has just completed a 6 month long journey which took her from Vladivostok, Russia to Chennai India, traveling through Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Western China, Pakistan, Kashmir, and the Western Coast of India... on bike. Equipped with vodka and gasoline, she braved the Russian cold, the likes of Borat, and possible capture by militants to make this epic journey. My hat's off to her.

Arriving at Chennai, I have once again become the undeserving recipient of Indian hospitality. Chennai would have just become another city if Ramkumar haven't put me in touch with his family there, gave me a place to crash for the night, and treated me to some delicious home cooked food. Ramkumar Balaji, Ram's twin (you guys look so much alike it can get confusing) introduced me to the local silk industry, theater scene and Kollywood (the Tamil film industry, as opposed to Bollywood which is in Hindi) . As you might suspect, I don't speak Tamil, but these productions are pretty easy to follow if you have someone painstakingly translate it real time, while explaining references to politics and pop culture. Sorry Balaji! Sampada also put us in touch with Ajit for lunch, and we had a jolly good time. 

After 4 weeks of traveling India, I saw the first traffic police. They really do exist. Here's a picture.

1 month in India does not feel enough. I have yet to explore the North and North Eastern states. Moving fast between cities, I have only scraped the tip of the ice berg, getting a cursory feel of each place, and leaving just as I began appreciating the place. Just looking at sights got boring after a while, and I wouldn't have been able to sustain it without the company of friends and the prospect of meeting awesome people along the way. It will take a little getting used to, but once you acclimatize to the less-than-ideal conditions in some parts of the country, you will simultaneously marvel at its innate beauty, grimace at the squalor, and come out of it a slightly different person.

Kerala

After Bangalore, the excitement of my journey seemed to have passed an apex. What's left was more independent traveling and touristy sightseeing. Kerala turned that into a good thing.

I arrived in Ernakulam late morning after a restful overnight train ride from Bangalore. I came to Kerala to see one thing, the beautiful backwaters, so I went straight to the tour office as suggested by lonely planet to book the excursion. The day long group tour included lunch and a ride on a houseboat and canoe. Right after booking, I had some of the best parathas and coffees in India at the Indian Coffee House. Really cheap too. On the ferry ride to Fort Cochin, as I witnessed a tornado form near the opposite bank, I was overwhelmed by a whirlwind of questions of where I'm from and how I like India by local adolescents. These sudden bursts of attention usually culminate with my photo being taken with their cellphones and my camera.

Landing in Fort Cochin, a tuk tuk driver offered to take me around the different places of interest in town in exchange for taking me to gift shops where they can earn commission. I agreed as it would be a quick way to cover ground cheaply. One famous place, one "famous" shop. Cochin used to be a Dutch, Portuguese and Jewish settlement, and it was interesting seeing how the local culture is still influenced by them. That night, I went to see a Kathakali and kalarippayat performance. Kathakali takes facial expression exaggeration to the next level, where artistes tell epic stories using just their face and hands, no voice. Kalarippayat, however claims to be the predecessor of Shaolin Kung Fu having similar flowery yet lethal fighting moves.

The next morning, I joined the company of a jolly bunch from all over the world, lured to these parts by attractive photographs and the powerful word of mouth. Cruising the backwaters was a serene experience. The balmy weather, coconut tree, and laid back way of life is very alluring. Again, i'll let my pictures do the talking. Along the way, we were treated to a delicious serving of mussels cooked traditionally using spices wrapped in a banana leaf. The shells are then used to produce osteoporosis pills among other things by firing them into powder in a furnace. Because fishing is more lucrative, it is currently inactive. Production can be switched on rather easily, making it a great alternate source of income for the villagers.

The next morning, I decided that I had enough of Fort Cochin, so I hopped on a southbound "superfast" train to Varkala, only after another pit stop at Indian Coffee House. The train was so fast, it didn't bother to stop at Varkala and just flew on by. I had to backtrack a little, getting to the beach after sunset. Starving, I surveyed the cliffside restaurants. Most of them have a fresh marlin displayed like a trophy together with other lesser fishes such as kingfish, butterfish, barracuda, red and white snapper, Garupa, and tuna. I went with the restaurant with the freshest looking Tuna, which was when I met Kiran, Raj, and Hillary. If I hadn't turned around to ask if Hillary was from America, we wouldn't have become instant friends, and over cooked tuna wouldn't have been as bearable. Meeting awesome people was well worth the risk of embarrassment, and besides, there's always something to talk about with fellow travelers.

The nice thing about arriving at night is that waking up in the morning, you'll be presented with everything that place has to offer. Varkala beach sits at the bottom of a beautiful cliff, accessible by a few flights of stairs. Perched on top of the cliffs are all the familiar eating and sleeping establishments. In the morning, you can see dolphin pods surfacing for air from the cliffs, a sight to behold. The fine sands and powerful waves turned me into a beach bum for the next two days, boogie boarding and getting sunburnt. While waiting for the next big wave, I turned around and asked Patton if he was from Japan. Another instant friend, although I guessed wrong and made a fool out of myself. With these folks, I ushered in the year of the rabbit.

As much as I would live to follow them back to the backwaters and eventually Goa, I had to head to Tamil Nadu, the last item of my visit.

Next stop: Mahabalipuram and Chennai

Bangalore

What was originally a screwup by the travel desk turned out to be quite a pleasant experience on the sleeper class train from Goa to Bangalore. It took us over the scenic hills of the western ghats, past waterfalls, and through tunnels where the more primal of the passengers will start howling out the window. Tempted as I was to follow suit, I turned my attention back into the cabin where I shared my berth with a Harrier maintenance officer, navy seaman, and IT professionals of Bangalore's flagship industry. Apparently, no matter what discipline of engineering you've slogged through in college, you will most probably find yourself in IT sooner or later in India. We hung out and played this card game called "challenge", or as Americans would prefer to call it, "bullshit".

Having no hotel reserved, we headed to the center of the city and started looking for one. Within minutes, we were chased down by an employee of a hotel and was presented with a few rooms for a very good price, wifi included. The main drawback was that it was just above a noisy lounge. However, the city of Bangalore mandates that nightlife establishments close by 11:30 pm, something most local residents hate with a burning passion, If its left unchecked, it may also incite a now trendy, popular revolution. After a free flow thali lunch at the glitzy UB City, Dan has come full circle back to where he started his trip. I had to bid goodbye to my partner in mischief as he headed back to NY where his career will start and his fun, unfortunately, end :) Later in the evening, I met up with Sachin, a James Bond of sorts whom Dan met earlier in his trip and confirmed that he is indeed an uncommonly interesting person.

Meeting up with Sid's band of brothers: Shishir, Suraj, Ankush, Som, Bob Marley and George the next day has overtaken Goa and Udaipur on the awesome list. They say to judge a man by the company he keeps, the inverse is true as well. To receive so much hospitality across 2 degrees of separation is just undeserving. They showed me the Bangalore I wouldn't see as a tourist, like the Bangalore club, with a supposed membership wait time of 10 years, and where Winston Churchill still has an open tab. I even got to play basketball and get schooled by kids from the neighborhood, enjoying every bit of it. Thanks a bunch guys, you have made it very easy getting to the train station but very difficult leaving Bangalore!

Next up, Kerala! God's own country.

Goa

We took an early morning train from the CST in Mumbai to Madgoan in Goa, arriving late evening. Although the trip pretty much took up the whole day, it only cost 25 dollars per person for a second class air-conditioned berth, equipped with power outlets, pillows, blanket and bedsheets. Food vendors were constantly making their rounds with Samosas, chicken lollipops and chai. It was nice to enjoy the serene countryside, get some reading done, rest up, and brace for Goa.

Landing into a new town is always a disorienting and an abrupt affair. It almost feels like the starting whistle of a scavenger hunt, as you race to complete objectives as efficiently as possible while filtering out distractions. It is the execution of a shoddy plan, put together hurriedly with limited information and self assurances that somehow everything works out. The plan was to get to Palolem beach south and find somewhere to crash, while filtering out bogus directions and offers for "I take you to BEST beach". We made our way there, sharing the cab with 2 travelers from the UK whom we've met on the train. Walking along the beach at Palolem, we had a few lodging options. We went with the concrete room as it looked a little nicer than the straw hut and only cost the equivalent of 2 dollars more, for a total of 15 bucks a night. The beach was every bit as imagined, clear waters, relatively quiet, and frankly a little boring as I wasn't the type to lay around all day sipping piña coladas. So we rented a bicycle, chugged down a fresh coconut, and made our way to scope out Agonda beach just a stone's throw to the north. As expected, we grossly underestimated the distance and intensity of the ride there. We took the single gear bike through 8 kms of undulating terrain and by the time we got to the beach, I just wanted to laze around with a piña colada. Agonda was even more secluded, which explained why fish was sold at half price. At a beach shack restaurant, they brought out a assorted platter of freshly dead fish for our selection and inspection. They grilled the kingfish to near perfection, and we showed no mercy to that unfortunate thing just as the Goan hills showed no mercy to us on the way there and back.

Next morning, we took a series of buses to Ponda where we visited a spice farm. Because I allowed a guy to slip in front of the boarding line, I had to stand for much of the 2 hr long journey with party music and the latest Bollywood tunes blaring away in the bus. In the beginning, I was slightly concerned for my safety standing alone in the bus due to poor road conditions and aggressive driving. However, as more people piled on, reaching the stated allowable passenger limit and way beyond, I realized I had sufficient people between me and the windshield, and the compression enabled me to free a hand from the handrails and begin catching up on the previous blog post on the iPod.

At the spice plantation, we got to learn about the different indian spices used in cooking and medicine and meet the half man half ape they nicknamed Tarzan. Tarzan has been climbing trees since he was 8 or so, using only his massive arms and a bundle of rope wrapped around his legs. He is able to swing from tree to tree without getting down, he is a professional coconut harvester.

Prices are always negotiable. Arriving to the Baga - Calangute beach area that evening, we managed to talk down room rates by fostering healthy competition between guest houses and a little bit of timing. As the day progresses, the likelihood that a room will be rented out that evening decreases while the importance of each visiting backpacker increases. With the rapport we had with the manager, we promised not to disclose the awesome rates we were getting to anyone else.

This beach had a lot more going on. Around this time of the year, retirees from Europe and Russia follow the migratory birds and flock to beaches in Phuket, Sharm El Sheik, and Goa to tempt fate with skin cancer. At night, the beach shacks serve scrumptious seafood feasts as diners ate al fresco and enjoyed fire and tightrope performances and firework shows. Further north is Anjuna and Vagator beach, with restaurants perched dangerously on beautiful cliffs and fun seekers hopping from rock to rock on the beach at low tide for photo opportunities. The hippy movement is strong here and people peddle marijuana at the same places they sell postcards, tshirts and flags of Bob Marley and Che Guevara. Some even come all the way from Nigeria to deal, unaffected by the 10 years in jail they potentially face.

Just a heads up for travelers going there in the future, there are professional ear wax removers who approach you with the innocuous intent to help you remove some "sunblock" left in your ear. Out of nowhere, he will have a suite of wax removing tools and appear to remove some of yours as a favor. Unless you yank your ear away from his vice grip, he will keep going at it and charge you 50 rupees at the end. This is not mentioned in the "Dangers and annoyances" section of the Lonely Planet spoiler. If you really need the service, go with the one with the name card and "government license"

Goa is where you would go to relax and unwind.. People are noticeably friendlier, happier, and less likely to lose their temper. Even the dogs leave the cats alone. If one is careless, he will see days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months and months turn into years in Goa. That was the case with a French paraglider pilot who has been catching drafts around the cliffs for about 13 years.

We, however, did not catch that bug, and we left after a brief stay to go to Bangalore where Dan will fly back to NYC and I continue solo south to Kerala and Tamil Nadu. If given the chance, I would definitely return to Goa. Thanks, Sujit for the exhaustive list of recommendations in Goa!

(pictures will be added when I get the chance)

Mumbai

We landed just before sunset, and found ourselves plunged into the massive urban sprawl that is Mumbai, or Bombay to the older generation. Led by our prepaid, non-air-conditioned, and very eccentric taxi driver, we were introduced to the sights and (at times pungent) smells of the city. As our taxi driver was cursing at the traffic in English and playing tour guide to us in Hindi, I saw for myself that this was another place of haves and have nots, the vast income disparity evident with the beggar knocking on the window of a shiny new Mercedes, ultra modern skyscrapers rising above squalid slums, and the destitute homeless lie on the streets while sharply dressed professionals dodge them like potholes or just hop over them, like potholes.

That night, we headed to Colaba in South Mumbai for some food and drinks. Along the way, we passed by Leopold Cafe, a site of the 2008 attacks by militants from Pakistan. There are still holes in the wall outside, possibly from bullets that missed the people in the restaurant on that fateful day. Despite this, the restaurant was still overflowing with customers and kingfisher beer, and it seems that people have either moved on, forget, or become oblivious to the fact that it could very easily happen again.
We started our day visiting the Victoria terminus, also known as the CST, also another site of the terrorist attack. I walked in expecting it to be the most fortified location in south Mumbai, but all I saw was a sleepy machine gunner and people going around metal detectors. They must have either stepped up on intelligence gathering, or that the people selling concessions are actually undercover commandos.

The rest of the morning and early afternoon was spent walking around a lot. We took a commuter train to the suburbs at Khar road just to see what it's like over there. The suburbs remind me of some residential parts of Singapore, but not long after we found ourselves in the middle of a slum relocation project in the west near the coast of the Arabian sea. There we got a good whiff of drying and dying krill amonst other things, and the scale of it is quite a sight. Fishermen would just lay out the gazillions of krill on sandy fields, roads, sidewalks, rooftops and any other flat surface touched by sunlight. Every urban critter will then congregate like animals to a Serengeti water hole, taking first pick, maybe spitting out the ones that are not tasty enough. The rest is then hand picked (it's probably cleaner this way compared to scooping it up en masse with all the other goodies on the road, although more time consuming) and perhaps exported to Asian countries with a healthy appetite for dried shrimp to be consumed, like Singapore!

Getting on the commuter train to Chowpati Beach, I had my first experience of chasing after a moving train. I got on first, then Dan. Dan had the luxury of realizing that the commuter trains are different than the intercity ones on the main line, in that they accelerate a lot faster. In retrospect, unless you are as nimble as Dan, you should not try it. Marveling at how inexpensive the tickets were at 7 rps each, we made ourselves comfortable in a very deserted carriage while the other sardines in the next carriage looked on with envy. This continued until we were slapped with a fine by a ticket attendant for only having a second class ticket and being in first. We were misled and had no idea. The metros we're used to don't segregate by class or gender.

After a whole day of walking, The rest of our day was spent mostly food hunting. Near Chowpati beach is a stand (New Kulfi Centre) selling Kulfi, a spiced ice cream served solid and diced up. It was so good I could have made a meal out of it. After that we went to a rooftop bar to cool off and get away from the streets for just a moment to recharge before taking the elevator back down to India. Dinner was at this superb roadside stall just behind the Taj Hotel (Taj was also attacked in 2008) It didn't matter if you had to eat on the sidewalk or if cars drove through the eating area as the restauurant's a well established local eatery and the stood is just plain tasty.

One great thing about blogging from an iPod is that I'm doing it in a very crowded bus, standing up, with one hand on the rail and the other typing away. More on this next stop, Goa!

Rajasthan

This post is long, be warned!

We left Agra and the state of Uttar Pradesh about 4 days ago and we've just been traveling around the western state of Rajasthan, starting from the Mogul Fort of Fatehpur Sikri and the Keoledeo Bird Reserve, then proceeding to the capital Jaipur, followed by Pushkar, Ajmer, and the very lovely Udaipur. Until Udaipur, we had the convenience of a hired driver which helped us cover many sites very efficiently. Arko, if you are reading this, you are right! I will go into this in more detail in a subsequent post as it is quite interesting on it's own.

Fatehpur Sikri is a red fort situated on a hill, about an hour's drive from Agra, or the Taj Mahal. On the way to the main gate (which is in itself very impressive), you'll see pigs digging around trash, cows commuting somewhere, mountain goats jousting on the steps, touts selling stuff, guides telling you you're too stupid to navigate around by yourself, and people just hanging out cos it's a Friday at an islamic site. Just outside the mosque area were ruins just begging to be climbed. We got up a set of stairs leading up to the top of a watch tower of some sort, and was presented with a pleasing bright yellow landscape of canola flowers and green grass fields. Within the fort, we got to see how the mogul king housed his Muslim, Hindu, and Christian wifes, store his treasure, and execute his criminals in public. On the walk back to the car, we were outflanked by a few kids, only waist tall. Haloo! Money?? We would love to help them out, but there's only so much we could do for every kid in India asking for money. They were very persistent, but we could outrun them. After telling them to go back to school and stay there, we made hell for leather and took off. What a scene... Two grown men in their prime running away from a bunch of kids, some shoeless, some toothless. To our surprise, they actually gave chase. Approaching the car, we thought of a fun thing to do the next time a tout approaches us. We will in turn, try to sell him something equally ridiculous, and equally overpriced. If its a guide, we will offer him a tour of the attraction that we have just arrived at and laid eyes upon for the first time.

Another hour to the west, along the way to Jaipur, we stopped at the Keoledeo Bird Reserve, situated in the middle of nowhere. We went in not because we liked birds, but because there was a tigress roaming about. The bicycles for rent were all rented out, so we decided to tour the 29 sq km park on foot. We saw a lot of exotic birds, all the common critters, but no tiger. At stretches along the way, a rickshaw driver was just tailing us and telling us repeatedly how tired we were, and how unsafe it was with the tiger roaming around. We're definitely safer as sitting ducks inside an open-air rickshaw. On the way back, we were hungry, tired, sunburnt, and desperately in need of that rickshaw. Hoping to get a cheaper fare, we kept the bravado, as if we could walk a few more miles, and it worked. On the rickshaw after a quick bargaining session, the driver started lamenting about his singlehood after passing a bunch of female tourists. Not weird at all.

On the way to Jaipur from Keoledeo, our driver felt the urge to visit a famous temple to pray. He explained to us that many people believe this temple to be highly effective for people with psychological issues. Wait, what? Curious, we followed him in to observe. We took off our shoes and stored it at a stall by the main street selling incense and proceeded through the temple. Walking barefoot through a busy, grotty county side road, dodging pies and wading through unknown yet colorful puddles, is an experience that I won't elaborate further in this blog. Please try it yourself sometime, as you'll walk out of it a stronger and more resilient person. I still can't shake off the shrill cries of agony from the wanting devotees in the temple, something truly bone chilling. I walked out of it with a red tika on my forehead and a solemn mood. On the way to Jaipur, we were cracking open roasted peanuts and tossing the shells out the window like the driver told us to. I thought it was liberating, but the singaporean in me was going insane, paranoid of getting fined.

We arrived in Jaipur around evening time. For those who get lost and disoriented easily, one way to tell youre in Jaipur is by realizing that most of the buildings are pink, similar to the color of adobe. We had just missed the kite festival which took place during the day, but there were kids still flying kites most everywhere. There were quite a lot of "over the counter" fireworks being launched, continuously going off in the city and surrounding areas because of wedding celebrations as explained by our driver. Later that night, we witnessed the first of three street fights outside our hotel in Jaipur. Too much alcohol, but not too much testosterone. The next day, we went to 3 forts, all strategically situated on a rugged hill over looking a valley. For the military buffs and RTS gamers, the view on top of Jaigarh Fort presents a classic setup of high advantage choke points and dead grounds cleverly using the hills as a natural barrier supported by high, fortifiable walls that resemble those in China. Perched on the same mountainside is the Amber fort, it's majesty resembling Minas Tirith of Tolkien lore. The elephant traffic on it's winding passageways takes you back to the late 1500s, and you can almost imagine the chaos leading up to a siege on the fort. From the top, you can see a fairytale lake palace which was still used by the Rajasthani royal family until recently.
One good thing about staying in small family owned inns is that they would sometimes upgrade you to a better room, hoping you would leave a good review on trip advisor in return, since they rely so much on word of mouth for business.

Hippies still exist, and they tie their hair in dreadlocks, stop shaving, and congregate in Pushkar, near the eastern edge of the Thar desert. Other things that congregate in Pushkar are camels during the annual camel fair held around November. A very small city, it's known for it's many temples and a sacred lake used for both religious rites and laundry. This place is so sacred, that restaurants within the township are not allowed to sell non veg food or alcoholic beverages. You can, however, get "bhang" (or marijuana) rather freely for religious purposes, which explains the thriving hippy population. We met one on a hill top who quit her job a year ago and has been globe trotting since. We had the fortune of observing a local engagement party, which began as a loud traffic halting procession on the streets in the afternoon, and ending with a dinner disco party at our hotel. Observing from the balcony, we were invited to join in the festivities, but we weren't sure if we really should or if they were just being polite. They had a separate section in the grass just for making chapati (unleavened bread) and masala to feed the many guests, and a dance floors with kids rocking out to the latest Bollywood tunes and repeats of "sheela ki jawali".

On the train ride from Ajmer to Udaipur, I got to see the beautiful colorful Rajasthani country side at sunset, dotted with canola and untarnished by trash - a stark contrast to Ajmer city where I boarded, where a man literally pulled down his pants right in front of me and did his business into a drain. The air-conditioned chair class (CC) ride took 5 hours and cost only 750 rupees for 2 passengers. It is the preferred way to cover short distances and also meet other travelers.

Udaipur is probably the most pleasant city I've stopped at so far. The streets are cleaner, the air is fresh, and the touts are less aggressive. The two main attractions in the area are the massive waterfront city palace, and the 007 endorsed lake palace which was featured in the Bond film, Octopussy. If you have a thousand dollars, you may get to stay there a night too. While exploring the area, we found a cable car that took people to the ridge of a bordering mountain. We reasoned that the fact that it is still in business after all these years mean it's got a good safety record. Also, at 66 rupees, the price was very attractive. I'll post pictures so you can judge for yourself if it was a dollar fifty well spent. The coolest thing was that I got to see a flock of a dozen eagles up close and personal, soaring effortlessly on the drafts on the mountain ridge, twitching only their head and tails, going into a nose dive occasionally to scoop up a chipmunk or two.

Next stop: Mumbai!

3 days later... Agra

I've managed to experience quite a good bit the three days i've been here. Dan and I got to see how karaoke is done here at a random bar at a mall in Delhi..like they're auditioning for Bollywood and as if there was no mike. Some of these guys and girls can seriously sing. However, all that was eclipsed by Dan's demonstration of "Billionaire" by Bruno Mars, before we made for the exit.
Unlike many attractions out there, the Taj Mahal looks way more impressive live. The marble changes color as the sun sets into a bright amber, creating a different ambiance. Perfect, if it weren't for veteran squads of touts who can say and do anything to separate you from your money. Some would even charge you for taking photos with them and their pet monkeys.

"China? Japan? Korea? 500 rupees, ok? Ok since you are student, 490... ok waiiitt come back! 100 rupees best price!"
I still don't even know what they want to sell me.

A big fan of Indian food all my life, growing up in Singapore and even preparing indian dishes at times, my coming to India is pretty much like a fat kid walking into a candy store. Although we've been managing to get by with about 15 dollars a day, it's still pretty unnerving not knowing what the next mouthful of food will do to you. As I write this entry, an epic battle between good and evil is taking place in my very own stomach, and I'm not sure if good will triumph over evil again this time. Regardless, Indian cuisine is one of my favorite foods, and its deliciousness is only enhanced by eating with your hands. I find myself going back for more Thalis and Paranthas every single day, seldom disappointed. I'll eventually get tired of it, but all I can think of right now is pouring masala all over bismati rice and gobbling it all up.