A Short Boat Ride In Kerala

The India Diaries

At this writing I’m on an 80 foot deluxe houseboat on the Bampa River in backwater Kerla, India.    I’m having a rum and coke and cruising the rivers in the state.  It’s almost impossible to explain how amazing it is.  This boat has a crew of 4 including a cook who knows his way around in the kitchen.  I just bought some huge prawns to be cooked for dinner that were so fresh you could have set them free.  Now we are heading with another couple of boats in our group to spend the night on a secluded place on the river.  The River is actually 9 feet higher than the surrounding rice fields and one of the true wonders of the world.    

It’s been a crazy few days.  I spent the last couple of night jammed in a metro sweat box hotel without any AC or comforts in Kochi.   I have to say that was not my favorite place at all.  It was cool to see the chinese fishing nets that were used on the island but it would not be a place I would return to.  

The night before that were spent high in the hills on a coffee plantation names Glenora.  It was a very quiet and magical place.  The views of the surrounding mountains were amazing because everything was so green.  It was near a wildlife park that was home to wild elephants and tigers.  I needed the silence of those nights to recharge my system for a bit.  There is so much life here in this country it’s hard to believe that anyone could rest.  I am traveling with an extraordinary mix of travelers who understand what they are looking at and perhaps why they travel.  I wish Americans could and would travel more and like this.  Maybe we would understand that joy and kindness are not exclusive to hour own cultures and that tolerance in religion, nationality, beliefs, life and love are  goals that every human being should strive for.  

Tomorrow is the last day of the year and it looks like it will come to me before some of you.  It’s the on the far side of the world time table thing.  I hope I can post and wish all of you a wonderful new year and say good bye to one of the most eventful years of my life.  Namaste. 

Saint Nick in India

Everyone has heard the tale of St. Nick.  Right?  The old guy with the white hair that gives out stuff?  Standard I think.  But did you know that he actually hangs out on Harash street in Mysore, India?  It's true.  I snapped this photo of him checking out some skimpy man thong at a table in the bar of the Parklane hotel on Christmas day.  He likes the premium Kingfisher beer and the veggie spring rolls.

There is nothing more strange than being Santa in an Indian bar with a hundred waiters just standing looking at you in amazement.  I took one for the team today and did my duty.  Lot's of folks used the lap today to tell me if they were naughty or nice.  I'm not sure a single one gave me an honest answer but it doesn't matter since they all got a gift anyway.  The locals absolutely thought we were nuts with this Christmas thing but I have to say it was a lot of fun.  Nothing like shaking up the local bar on Christmas day.  To all of you a very Merry Christmas and Happy New year from the other side of the world.  May all you hopes, dreams and wants come to you with love and happiness.  

The Kingdom of Hampi

I woke up very early this morning and went out to the rice patties.  Acres and acres of terraced ponds each perfectly constructed and overflowing into each other like a champagne glass fountain at a posh wedding.  There were a couple of mats and pillows next to the start of the fields and I laid there and watched the night say good bye to the day.  As I lay there I noticed streaks of black flying in front of me.  Bats were taking the mosquitos from the air only inches from me.  I sat there watching this amazing show for 45 minutes until the light made the bats disappear.  It was truly one of those strange and magical things that happen to travelers when they do something different.  It was just me, the bats, and the light.....

Hampi was one of the sites of the Hindu Kingdom in the 14 to 16 century.  It is a massive and beautiful ruin that is simply enormous.  It covers several square miles of land and now props up a small city.  Huge temples and several markets with pillars that run for miles cover the landscape.  To get there from my lodging it was a short ferry ride across the river.  I am staying on a island in the middle of the vasaparasu river.  The river is life to this part of India and is to be used and worshiped.  It is truly a wonderful place that I had not even heard about a few days ago.  Tomorrow it is time to leave.  Hampi is dry.  By dry I mean Texas backward county dry.  As in, no Alcohol at all dry.  How did the Baptist get ahold of a Hindu city?  Amazing.  

Palolem Beach Morning

I’m sitting in an empty lifeguard chair on an deserted stretch of the beach in Palolem, Goa.  The time is just closing in on 7 AM.  The air is cool and damp and the sounds of the surf are all you really hear except for the occasional barking of the orders from the lead fisherman getting ready to go out for the morning.   Few people are up so it’s a very tranquil place to be.  The street dogs are all over the beach playing some strange game that seems much more fun than their normal fight for survival.  It seems that their is some kind a bounty on trying to knock down the lone traveler with a camera too.

The dichotomy of this scene is me sitting in this serenity with a laptop. I used to put pen to paper but I suppose, like this beach I have given way to the evolution of the modern world.  I watch the fishermen get ready much like they always have, building fires and tending nets. .  The changes come in the form of a motor and some brightly colored football shirts but the routine is the same.   Sometimes you have to wonder which was a happier life.   What was this place like a hundred years or more ago?  Everyone was doing their things to survive and I argue they didn’t feel this pressure of a western world pushing down on them.  Not that envy and jealously and want are exclusively a western things.  They aren’t, but there is no doubt that it is harder to explain to a child why they don’t have the same things they see on TV now then it was to explain the situation a hundred years ago. 

A game of Cricket is developing among the locals down the beach and women are walking by on their cell phones.  Time to find some coffee because the beach dog games are over.  I guess they have to go back to the real world too.

Indian Sand .. Baga Beach

Indian Sands

Baga beach in North Goa turned out to be a very nice place.  It’s a typical beach town on the backpacker circuit.  Lot’s of cheap hotels and hostels with AC/Non AC.  Plenty of super maxi cool boom boom bars where ladies get in free and also drink free.  Ladies this is your kind of place...  The beaches are clean and there are miles of them.  It’s good to be here for a couple of days and rest.  On the beach I did notice several different kinds of sacred cows lounging around.  The animal versions seem very much at home in the sun and surf.   I doubt that they know about hamburgers yet.

My 13 hours on the train from Bombay started great but ended with a few health issues.  Must have been the mysterious  chicken lollipop that did me in.  Nothing like spending a few hours in a hot jerking rail card to get you in the mood for a long trip.  Anyway, I seem to be back in the land of the living.  At least for now.  I must press on.  

The search for La Crema continues along the Western Coast of India  but my confidence is somewhat low.  It is a learning experience for a wino however....who would have thought that Pakistan makes a wine....Muslims may be getting it after all...

Tomorrow I will venture into old Goa and see what the Portuguese left in this place.  Then it’s on the Southern Beachs of Goa for a few days.  I’m not sure what the differences might be but I will keep you posted.  There are so many Russians here most of the signs are in Russian and just an off color comment.....Russians in Goa should consider their swimsuit choices carefully.  Sacred Cow type stuff. 

Laws of the Jungle

I remember my first day living in Singapore a few years ago.  I cheated death at least 3 times in the first 24 hours.  In countries where they drive on the "Wrong" side of the road, it's very very dangerous to cross a busy street...Why, you ask?  Because you look the wrong way first and then step out.  BAM...flattened  honky tourist.   Bombay is that fear multiplied by 6.  Buses, cars, motorbikes, bicycles, tuk tuks, and people are all out to mow you down.

After spending some time watching the locals it became apparent that fear and hesitation will kill you.  You just have to go for it and not stop.  Move rapidly and keep the same speed without looking at the angel of death coming toward you.  So far so good, although I did get bumped by a rather hard side mirror from a 21 ton cement truck.  I was pushed into the line of fire by a small woman in a black sheet.  I was of course walking on the wrong side and she didn't like it.  My new strategy is to find the largest group of older sandaled gents or women with children and latch onto them as they make their break.  The thinking is ....these guys have survived so far ...and would they really run over small children to kill a yankee dog like me?    I will be testing the theory this evening and hoping for the best.  There is some shiva festival going on down at the harbor and they are telling the the traffic will be crazy....(really).

I was also introduced to Satari this morning.    She will be my home off and on for the next couple of months.  The fact that I have a seat on the bus is a good thing.  The truck is really amazing when you think about where it is going and what it will be doing over the next few months..  I will enjoy the beaches of Goa over the next few days,  provided I get back from dinner in one piece.  

An Afternoon in Bombay

It's been awhile since I have experienced the sights, sounds, and smells of the Far East.  Strangely, not much has changed.  The continuous honking of horns, complete chaos of traffic, unfamiliar foods, and of course.....no hot water.   Still with all it's uncertainties you have to love the place.

Bombay as I am going to call it, is a sprawling mass of humanity on the Eastern side of India.  This will be my jumping off point for Goa on Tuesday by train.  I already have to change hotels because the Maderas Cricket Team is refusing to give up their rooms.  What is cricket anyway?   And so it goes.

Today I strolled the chaos looking for some food and drink and ended up with both.  The Leopold Cafe has been around since 1871.  I'm sure it was the happening place back then when British aristocrats ambled in looking for pems and ale.  Today it's a distance from that splendor but still a fun place to have some fabulous vindaloo and a big bottle of Kingfisher beer.  I would suggest the table in the back that faces the open door.  The street view will never disappoint in India.

As I walked back to my hotel I was always on the lookout for a good burger place....The beef is around but the buns are harder to find.