Last days in India ...
Last days in a place you love are always eventful. So after saying goodbye to Sivananda friends in Varkala, I stayed on a few more days, until I braved the sunrise train to Coimbatore. 8 hours in the First class aircon. what could go wrong? Nothing as it happened.
At Coimbatore railway station I hired an air-con taxi entailed to take me the 16km to Isha, Sadh Guru's now-famous ashram. I was welcomed at the Welcome desk, but not having a confirmed booking they put me in touch with the kindly desk, who suggested I call the overseas helpdesk to create an International profile. However, the young man on this helpdesk, said that I need a confirmed booking to make a profile. I politely said my "Ohm Namah Shivaya" and took a waiting autorickshaw back to Coimbatore, booking myself into the IBIS French hotel chain.
I slept at ten and got up for breakfast of Idli and strong black coffee. I hailed an autorickshaw myself and made the short journey to the railway station where the most almighty 40-minute kerfuffle ensued to take me to Ooty at the price stated on the Price board. I took shelter with eh transport Police who wanted to see nothing but the back of me. Eventually, I got a lift with Abu, a Moslem fasting for Ramadan. We had a lovely journey up the mountain tho the cool, and craziness of Ooty. I played "Ohm Namah Shivahah tunes to calm down.
https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=Ox3gYdhNfOQ&feature=share
I had booked the "Blue Bird hotel" on mobile data, and Hotels.com had taken $83 from my credit card. At the reception, I paid another INR4755 for what was one of the most horrible hotels that I have stayed in. Next to a bar, god only knows what went on this hotel. I went and had a nice lunch and sketched from the kebab point restaurant down the road.
I went back to the hotel, rearranged the furniture, and had a spectacular view of the sunset.
The next morning, after a breakfast of yIddly at a delicious roadside stand, the auto-rickshaw, and set off to explore the beautiful botanical gardens, where I sketched some of the ancient trees.
I walked down the hill to Ooty. I bought black tea, coffee, lemon tree oil and Ooty chocolates from the government of Tamil Nadu shop, and got an autorickshaw back to the hotel for a nap.
The next morning, I had breakfast of black coffee, and the autorickshaw took me up the winding mountain to the Tea garden park. It was beautiful up there, and smelt divine, of the tea tree oil. I sketched a couple of views, but failed to capture the beauty of this place.
I ordered my first Zomato, India's online food delivery service. I ordered from Pure Veg and got a stack of plastic tubs of indefinable 'Bel puri' and delicious Indian snack of beans, puffed rice, tamarind and coriander. The mushroom soup was delish too.
Next morning I ate the noodles with the soup/sauce for breakfast, before Calling my taxi driver, Abu at 6:30 am. He was sleeping. Not a good omen for my trip back to Coimbatore to catch the bus to Bangalore.
I asked the hotel to call me a local taxi. At 845 am Abu's taxi driver pulled into the hotel forecourt, and we set off down the mountain to drive the 70km to Coimbatore bus station to catch the 10:35 bus to Bangalore. at 9:45 I called the bus agency and said I wasn't chasing buses, when was the next bus, and could he book me a sleeper bunk on it? He would try his best, and we should not rush. at 11:38 the taxi pulled into Coimbatore, and unceremoniously dumped me and two rucksacks,. I called the agent, and he spotted me when I spotted the 11:45 bus to Bangalore, ready and pulling out of the bus station. They opened the luggage, and I put my large rucksack in. I put my smaller rucksack on my chosen allotted bunk. I still do not know for what reason my bags were pulled off this bus, and thrown into the dirt. I was brewing by this point.
The bus pulled away without me on it. I walked around the bus station and found an agent who would take me for INR 800. I got chais and idlis and uppanem, south India breakfast snacks. There's a cat who had a chunk bitten out of its leg by a dog. I am the only one able to pick it up for treating the leg with Dettol.
I get on the bus at 2pm, ask the conductor which is my seat, I settle down, am plugged in, when there is an almighty fuss at the next stop, as an Indian woman accuses me of taking "her" seat. Quite frankly, I'm shocked, they're all standing around screaming and pointing at me. Luckily for me, as there's no other bunk available, a cool Sudanese student called Saif gets on, and offers to let me share his bunk, so I have somewhere to sit/lie on the long journey to Bangalore. The first bus was meant to arrive at 5:30pm, and I had plans to go out in Bangalore, the tech capital of India. this one is due to arrive at 9:30 pm. We get to my stop at 11pm. they drop me on a road in the middle of the night. Luckily the police point me in the direction of an autorickshaw stand. I drive around in an autorickshaw for 45 minutes trying to find the Treebo Richmond Classico hotel. I check in just before midnight. Treebo are cool little hotels, more like mini-apartments. I set my alarm for 7 am. I wake at seven and drink coffee, and set off at 8 am. My friends have told me about Rapido, an autorickshaw booking service, and I spend the next day riding around Bangalore in autorickshaw. I meet my Sivananda friend, Yashi at his house in Koramangala, a beautiful garden suburb. We take his rescue doggies for a walk around the neighbourhood.
Then we go for breakfast of Idli and Masala Dosa at one of his local indoor/outdoor cafes. Bangalore is super cool. Sadly his scooter gets a puncture, so we drop it off at the roadside puncture guy, and go and get a chai whilst it is fixed. All very convenient. I say goodbye to Yashi, and go and meet my date at MG Metro station. When I get out of the Metro there's a message saying he has to cancel on me, so I wander around downtown Bangalore. Sadly Electronic city is just too far to visit in the short time I have before my train to Hospet for Hampi leaves at 5pm. I go back to the hotel, pack, and order an autorickshaw to the Railway station. There is a downpour and an electric storm
on the way there. I still arrive on time, but I haven't downloaded my itinerary, and don't know my train number, so I rush into the train station, bedraggled asking for the 5pm train to Hospete. Some of the porters, dressed in their red uniforms, point me to Platform 2. I wander up to the end of the train looking for the 1st class Aircon carriage. I get on the train, and luckily find the guard who tells me to jump down quickly, this is not the Hospete train. I look at the board, and see that my train is/was going from Platform 6, I walk over the railway bridge, but I have missed my train! I have missed my train. I speak to the ticket office, who tells all the trains tonight are full, and to come back at 8 am tomorrow to look for seats. I call the hotel and flag an autorickshaw. We travel through the now flooded streets of Bangalore, and I get my old, cleaned room at Treebo back for the night. I spend the a evening looking for travel options to Hospete for Hampi. I book myself on the 12:45 slow train the next day. When I wake, first thing I do is check that my booking has not been jumped or cancelled. It's good. I go downstairs for Masala Dosa and coffee, I check out and order an autorickshaw for a railway station a little out of the centre. I love the Rapido service, it cuts out all the fuss with autorickshaw drivers haggling over the fare. I am early for the train, and wait with all the families and the kids travelling all over India for Eid, for work, for business, for pleasure. The train arrives half an hour late, and the ride is long, but bearable, and food and chais are regularly passed through the window. The train is due to arrive in Hospete at 23h. We arrive at 12:30 past midnight. Luckily for me the Guesthouse have sent Parashum, an autorickshaw driver to collect me, and he waits for the delayed train. I check into to guesthouse after 1am.
Next morning Parahum is waiting for me to finish breakfast to transport me, and guide me all over Hampi. I spend the first morning sketching the main temple Virupaksha. It's a 9 storey construction, built in the 13th Century, and still a live temple. Quite frankly it's amazing. It's 40° hot.
The next morning I want to visit the Jain ashram for morning puja, in fact I'm invited. I'm all dressed in white, we arrive at the gate, but the Gatekeeper says "no foreigners". On this day Parashum drives me around Hampi, and I see something like 12 temples. He drops me at the King's complex. Then drops me at the Queens' palace, and I sketch the Zeinana, just beautiful Islamic architecture. I see the huge, elephant stables. Families invite me to join their picnics. We return to Hampi village in the afternoon. I'm exhausted from the heat. I sleep at 9pm. I am in awe of this amazing Temple complex, and wonder what happened to it? Climate change? Loss of water? It turns out that the Mughal emperors in the North were jealous of the fabulous wealth of the Vijayanagara kingdom, and in a few short months in 1536, they razed the whole kingdom to the ground. Anger. Such a terrible, destructive emotion.
Bath tank at Hampi
The next morning Parashum takes me across the river, and I manage to swim in the Tundra Bhangra river which is delightful and cooling.
The next day Parashum has to take his elderly dad to the Hospital in Hospete, for heat exhaustion, so I spend the day wandering around Hampi sketching, in between visits to the cafe for lime soda. Parashum calls me from Hospete to promise he'll be there at 5 am the next morning to take me to my train to Goa.
Loyal as ever, he knocks for me at 5 am, and we set off. I'm sad to leave Hampi after just 4 days, but the 40° heat is intolerable for long periods. I leave Hospete at sunrise. I haven't managed to book a first-class air-con sleeper, I'm in second class lower bunk, but my travel mate is an author, a teacher and a feminist who is travelling elderly from Tamil Nadu to Goa to educate children about the Caste system. We have a lot in common, agreeing a lot of societies' ills are cured by the education of Women. I say goodbye to her at Magdaon and stay on the train to Vasco da Gama, where I get a taxi without a fuss to Vagator where I'm staying in a party hostel. I go to bed as soon as the music ends at 9:30 or 10:30 pm. The next morning I'm up early to go to the beach at Vagator to sketch. I meet a young man who offers me a ride there on his scooter, and patiently watches whilst I sketch Vagator beach. We then go for breakfast at Jaws cafe, which turns into my local for breakfast, lunch and dinner. We then ride over to Anjuna, and find a rave party at 10 am in the morning! However, they want INR 3000 each entry (about Euro30) which is far too much. It looks like a good, well-organised party. We ride back to Vagator, where I meet his friends who are group of work friends on a mini-break from Bangalore. It is just so hot, so we wait until 2-3pm to go out to lunch. They pay for everything for me. I say goodbye to my new friends from Bangalore, and set out in a taxi to Arambol in North Goa to meet my Sivananda friends , Alessa and Sebastian. Arambol, whilst busy, is altogether another vibe. I hang out with Alessa and Sebastian, we walk to the sweet lake, they swim in the sea. We go for a nice dinner at Lavish, a famous Arambol restaurant. I hang out at Alessa's beautiful Lotus Sutra resort til about midnight, as I've heard there's another party at Jungle by Sturmfrei hostel. I get a taxi at midnight back to Vagator. The party goes on until 2:30 am or so. I have to move. I do my research and walk to Leon Resorts down the road, and they show me a lovely comfortable deluxe room for Euro 22 per night. I take it. There is a delicious, cooling pool. And so I spend my next days, my last in India, walking to the beach, cooling off in the pool, eating light meals in Jaws' cafe.
Leony resort, Vagator
One night I meet Sufi, an Iranian refugee in India. Basically for his [honourable] hacking efforts against the Iranian regime he had to leave Iran, and has lived in Goa for 15 years. He tells me about a party in Chapora. I go home, get changed and walk over. I'm invited in for free. The music is fabulous, the crowd are super-cool, hip young Goa crowd (it's midweek), and I dance for 4 hours. In the end I get a lift home with 2 Israeli girls who live in Goa permanently, and the Dutch DJ, Jimbob. The next evening Sufi tells me about another party in Vagator, but as oldies, we're too zonked to party another night, and I fall asleep without setting my alarm and miss it! The next day we go for food in one of the cool food vans and say our goodbyes. On my last night I hang out in Leonie resort and get a taxi with a social worker, whose work also finished due to the Covid lockdown, and has to work as a taxi driver now. I get to Goa International airport early, and the Air Arabia desk is not open yet. I ask to leave the terminal to get some air and sit outside until the check-in desk opens. I'm escorted by the Chief of Police, a woman from Haryana. I can see that we would get on in normal circumstances. She escorts me back to check-in desk, and I check in. I'm followed around the terminal by one of her plain clothes officers. They are taking pictures of me. I manage to lose him by spending an inordinate amount of time in the LAdies' toilet. Goa International airport is really boring, there's just a fusty sandwich stall. I'm really hungry. I meet a young lady who is travelling to UAE for the first time, to work as a housemaid. I tell her not to hand over her passport to her employers, to get a job in a shop or an Indian cafe in Dubai instead. I hope I have saved one young lady from Modern slavery. We board our superbly modern Airbus for to Sharjah, the small Emirate next to Dubai for a short, uneventful flight to the UAE.
Sharjah is modern, small and clean. I shop, drink coffee and eat Indian snacks until my flight to Istanbul is ready to board. This flight is longer , 5 ours or so. We land in Istanbul at 3pm. I refuse to pay Euro80 to be transported by taxi from the airport which is a long way from Istanbul, plumping the bus for TRL60. It takes 2 hours , and I nap along route before I'm dropped in the cool, hip area of Istanbul called Kadikoy . There are no taxis available at rush hour to take me to my hotel, called Juliet's Kitchen. I walk for an 1 1/4 hour around Kadikoy trying to find Juliet's, with my 18kg pack, which has been totally trashed by the airline, the straps are now broken. Juliet's is a lovely, quiet bohemian oasis in this crazy wonderful City. I eat a veg wrap, one of the only 2 vegetarian items on the menu, and fall asleep at 9pm. Yet again, I'm shattered.
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