Hitting a wall in Jodhpur

Jodhpur, 26-27 September

We were flying too close to the sun over the past two weeks in Rajasthan and India came back to punish us for it. After the not so pretty Agra, our hotel in Jaipur was an absolute steal, we felt relaxed and at home in the small town of Bundi and then came Udaipur, easily our favourite painted city. But when we drive into Jodhpur, the Blue City, in the dark, it feels like we’re back to square one.

Who ever wrote that India is an attack on the senses must have spent some time in Jodhpur. The traffic is insane again, with bad roads and worse drivers producing deafening noise while competing for business. The occasional whiff of incense offers only temporary relief from the nauseating smell of rotten garbage found everywhere by the side of the roads. If you can tell a city by how it treats its animals I would suggest skipping Jodhpur. In Udaipur we’ve seen dogs get their eyes cleaned, get fed and injected, here, seeing all the sick and miserable dogs is gut-wrenching. This city has a bit of an edge to it.

After a hectic drive through Jodhpur town centre, our check in at the hotel is quickly dealt with and we end the day having a beer on the rooftop terrace. We’re joined by the grandad of the guesthouse and his drinking buddies: a gang of old boys with a serious thirst for whiskey. When his friends have gone, grandad decides to relieve his bladder in the sink at the back of the terrace partly behind the fridge, the perfect excuse for us to contemplate the views we get of Jodhpur city and its Mehrangarh Fort, lit up beautifully at night.

The next day we take it easy with a much needed long lie in. We have breakfast at lunchtime by the clock tower, before meeting our travel companions for dinner and drinks.

The food at Cafe Blue Bird is pretty good. Almost all the Rajasthani food has been delicious, but since Udaipur we’ve felt a bit sick after eating a Rogan Josh and a Lal Maas containing goat meat, so we’re back to eating vegetarian only. The dish I have is called Aloo Gobhi Adraki, which is a potato and cauliflower curry, and Lauren likes everything with paneer, Indian cheese, which is like a solid cottage cheese. When the owner finds out Lauren is Scottish he pours us a pretty lethal dose of Indian whiskey, which leaves us staggering back to the guest house through the city’s small alleyways at the end of the night.

In the morning Lauren’s stomach is feeling worse for wear. As we’ve got some sorting out to do for our upcoming train journeys to Pushkar and Delhi we spend most of the day in the hotel to recover a bit from our first two months on the road. We return to Cafe Royale for lunch where we end up talking the afternoon away with the owners and their son, who used to live in Berchem next to Antwerp for five years, about the meaning of life, plastic reduction and the so called King of Kidneys, an Indian surgeon who illegally removed and sold over 600 kidneys from his patients and had an indoor swimming pool built in the shape of a kidney! A gentle reminder to try not and get hurt while abroad because with enough money anyone can buy a medical degree in India.

Although we didn’t make it to any of the sights, I feel our time in Jodhpur was still of value. It may not be a clean or even a pleasant city, but we’ve met some really nice people! There’s one final stop coming up for us in Pushkar, before we head back to Delhi and fly to China. Farewell to the last of Rajasthan’s painted cities.


Kumbhalgarh: Taking the scenic route

Udaipur to Jodhpur, 25 September

Between the two painted cities of Udaipur and Jodhpur there’s no trains, and after hearing a story from other tourists that the bus they were on doubled as prisoner transport we decide it might be fun to hire a car and driver instead and take the touristic route to Jodhpur past Kumbhal Fort.

We’ve teamed up on this one with a couple of crazy kids we met, Tony and Jas, a Kiwi and Brit living in Sydney. At 9AM sharp we set off on our trip. Today we’re going to see rural Rajasthan, a fair bit of it too.

The drive up should take about 5 hours, plus an extra hour to visit the Fort and in the morning it’s a smooth ride on quiet roads past tiny villages. Though slow-paced it’s full of life here between the farmers herding their cows, buffalo and goats, children playing in the streets and dogs napping in the shade by the side of the road. It’s great to be here at the tail end of the monsoon season, as it’s dry and sunny but the surroundings are lush and green. We pass waterholes where nearby villagers take their cattle inside the house at night because of tigers and leopards visiting at night. Around noon we make it to the Fort, an impressive structure!

We’re still in the Mewar region in Southern Rajasthan where Mewari is the first language, and Kumbhalgarh, which literally means Fort of Kumbhal is a Mewar Fortress built during the course of the 15th century by Rana Kumbha, ruler of the Mewar Kingdom.

Kumbhalgarh is the second largest fort in India. Its walls extend over 38km, making it one of the longest walls in the world, and are thick enough for 8 horsemen to ride abreast on top of it!

A wide, winding stone road takes us up higher and higher into the Fort and at each new level you’re more and more beginning to admire the work that has gone into building this structure. It must have been a gigantic project, just carrying up all the building materials must have taken an army of workers.

Each gate has big metal spikes sticking out to prevent elephants from breaking through, and the walls contain holes for the defending archers. Almost impregnable to direct assault, the Fort only fell once to the forces of Mughal Emperor Akbar in 1576.

After a 30 minute climb we reach the top of the fort to enjoy a grand view of the Aravalli Hills.

It’s time for some lunch, and as expected our driver brings us to a restaurant owned by a friend of his’, or maybe it’s his cousin’s, were not sure, but hey, they serve cold beer, some decent food and even show off the cannabis plant they grow in the garden, so it’s all good.

Back in the car we travel through enormous valleys where the langur monkeys hang out. We stop off to feed them some crisps, which they immediately destroy, and pieces of custard apple, they wait for patiently to receive.

It’s now getting to 3 o’clock and at this point one of us notices we’re nowhere near our destination of Jodhpur yet. We decide to skip our planned visit to the Ranakpur Jain Temple and try and get to Jodphur before nightfall.

This is of course not taking India into account. Everything just takes a little longer. Most roads are littered with potholes, so we’re stuck at 20 km an hour until we get to the toll road. A simple train crossing keeps us stationary for another 15 minutes and we even get stuck inside a big herd near one of the villages!

We watch the sun go down on the horizon. At 8PM we’re finally closing in on Jodphur. We’re ready to turn into our hotels, but suddenly the driver stops at a roadside cafe and wants us to have tea with his brother! This is the moment Tony cracks up and makes clear he would like to be in Jodhpur now. We were told it would take 6 hours to get to Jodhpur, but it’s getting close to double that amount. When we finally reach the city, the driver, with a straight face, remarks he’s pleased we’ve arrived early, and we can’t help but laugh when Tony replies: “Early, you say? Early? Well in that case I got some news for you bud, we’re not f*cking early!” Poor Tony needs a drink. All is well in the end when we finish our night with a cold beer on the rooftop of our Jodhpur hotel.

Reunion in the City of Lakes

Udaipur, 22-24 September

We’re taking the night train from Bundi to Udaipur, second of the three painted cities in Rajasthan on our itinerary and known as the White City. Famous for its palaces and lakes, Udaipur is considered to be the most romantic city in India. Welcome to the Jewel of Mewar!

Our first experience on a night train is pretty good. The train is already 24 hours in motion by the time we’re getting on it, and since it’s 2AM all the other passengers are fast asleep, so we quietly find our bunks in the dark and get a few hours sleep ourselves.

Although unaware of it at the time, by chance we’re dropped off at our hotel by the owner’s brother, who also very kindly arranges our next transportation out of Udaipur. We’re staying at Mewari Villa, a stunning hotel overlooking one of Udaipur’s seven lakes, where we’re booked in to one of the budget rooms. Though our room may not have windows, the rooftop terrace offers great lake views and the hotel is very comfortable.

We meet the owner who tells us we’ve met his brother, and it turns out the owner of our previous guest house in Bundi is an acquaintance of his as well, such a small world! Later that day he invites us to a cultural performance taking place on the hotel rooftop, but in the evening an unrelenting monsoon rain starts and continues throughout the night. We don’t mind at all, but the owner, feeling bad for having had to cancel the event, gives us a free room upgrade instead. Ya dancer, we got a room with a view!

Time then for a bit of sightseeing, and the City Palace seems like an excellent place to start.

Located on Lake Pichola, the palace was built over a period of nearly 400 years, with contributions from several rulers of the Mewar dynasty. Unlike Bundi Palace, its interior with its balconies, towers and cupolas exhibits immaculately preserved, delicate mirrors, marble, murals, paintings and coloured glass, as well as sharply dressed guards.

After the palace we bump into a guy we met in Jaipur, and minutes later a couple we met in Bundi! We spend the rest of the afternoon and evening drinking beers and swapping travel stories on the roof of a hostel.

Waking up late with a slight hangover means we’re taking it easy the next day, which is easily done in Udaipur. Most of our afternoon is spent relaxing in the shade by Lake Pichola looking at the boats go by and eagles circling for prey against a backdrop of the water palaces of Taj Lake Palace and Jagmandir.

What we’ve learned so far on our travels is that India is always full of surprises. With the sun gone down and the lights come on, as we’ve said our goodbyes to Rajasthan’s Venice, an elephant suddenly appears around a street corner. Just a normal night in Udaipur! We thoroughly enjoyed our time here.

Stepping inside of the Jungle Book

Bundi, 20-21 September

It takes only four hours to get from Jaipur to Bundi by car over a quiet highway with the odd cow sleeping in the middle of the road. The exit off the highway quickly changes to a dirt road when I direct our driver to our guesthouse. Soon the dirt road becomes a dirt path with cows standing idly by and pigs getting mud baths in big rain puddles, and then the car gets stuck. We’re literally off the beaten path.

After a few local boys help the driver free the wheels and we’ve said our goodbyes, we’re off on foot for the final part of the journey. First impressions of Bundi are good; it’s an extremely friendly place, very colourful, with loads of little side streets with painted murals, and full of life. We find the guest house just before the rain comes back on.

After the hustle and bustle of Agra and Jaipur, being in a small town is exactly what we both needed and just like that we can relax. It is said that Bundi’s Rajasthan inspired Rudyard Kipling to write his Jungle Book, and you can visit his summer house on the lake where he was known to work on his writings.

As it’s still early in the day we decide to go out and explore. A steep, cobblestone path from town leads to nearby Garh Palace, or Palace of Bundi.

Jeypore Palace may be called the Versailles of India; Udaipur’s House of State is dwarfed by the hills round it; Jodhpur’s House of Strife, gray towers on red rock, is the work of giants, but the Palace of Bundi, even in broad daylight, is such a palace as men build for themselves in uneasy dreams — the work of goblins rather than men. – Rudyard Kipling

Also described by Kipling as an avalanche of masonry ready to rush down and block the gorge, this vast structure consisting of a palace and fort above it, almost seems to grow out of the rocky hillside it is built on.

Although its foundations were laid in the 13th century, Gahr Palace, which actually consists of different palaces built by rulers from different times, was established mostly in the 17th and 18th century. Today it’s left in a decaying state inhabited by bats. Overgrown by jungle, it vaguely reminds us of King Louie’s Ancient Ruins from Jungle Book.

Hathi Pol, The Elephant Gate.

Beside the structure itself, the palace is also famous for a vast collection of faded turquoise and gold murals, its chief treasure, depicting a variety of subjects, all of wonderful detail: the life of the Maharaja, drunk elephants dancing and fighting, gods smoking opium, giant parades, a tiger wrestling a bull, a langur checking inside a fish’s mouth, and much, much more.

So far in Rajasthan this has been my favourite place, and the level of architecture and decoration is almost overwhelming. It’s no wonder Kipling liked to spend time in Bundi. We spend the entire afternoon discovering Garh Palace and wish we didn’t have to leave!

The sightseeing in Bundi already blew us away and now we find out it has a pretty vibrant night life too, complete with cool rooftop cafe’s, Italian food and Bhang Lassi’s, a drink made of yogurt, nuts, spices, rose water and cannabis! We love it here, but there’s so much more to see in Rajasthan. Tonight at 2am we’re catching the night train to Udaipur, the White City.

Living like royalty in Jaipur

Jaipur, 17-19 September

Our first stop in Rajasthan, Jaipur, is the capital and largest city of India’s royal state. Together with Delhi and Agra it forms the western part of the Golden Triangle tourist circuit and it is the first of the three painted cities we’re visiting in India. Jaipur is named after its founder Maharaja Jai Sing II, ruler of the kingdom of Amer, and was designed to be and established as the royal capital in 1727. After seven weeks of backpacking we can do with a bit of royal treatment ourselves, so it’s the airconditioned reserved seats on the express train getting us from Agra to the Pink City by nightfall.

Usually when booking a hotel we follow a simple rule set: get the cheapest private room, with a private bathroom, along with a decent rating and in a central location. In Sri Lanka and India, with prices for this type of stay ranging from £5 to £15 a night, you just know there’s almost always something wrong with it. Mostly it’s just minor flaws such as a couple loose wires, missing towels, no hot water, etc, but other times, for example in Agra, you find out your hotel doesn’t change the sheets between stays and charges extra for using toilet paper, but they’re also out of toilet paper.. At any rate, it’s very unusual to come across a budget hotel where everything is spot on, it’s just a roll of the dice.

The hotel we have booked in Jaipur is called Rawla Mrignayana Palace. We arrive there late, already a bit weary because we just came off a crazy taxi ride across town with driver Rahul, who is a bit of a character: clearly coked off his face and talking to himself out loud, Rahul was in no fit state to find the hotel without our help. But we made it, the lobby looks nice and we’re just eager to get the paperwork done so we can grab a bite to eat.

With all the forms completed we expect to be shown our room, only to find the receptionist has now disappeared from his desk. Suddenly music starts playing and the same guy, resurfacing on the balustrade, waves at us to follow him upstairs. Halfway up Lauren gets a good fright when out of nowhere we’re being showered in flower petals. The balustrade leads us into a candlelit courtyard where we’re greeted by a full complement of staff and given bindis and flower garlands, not bad for a budget stay!

After the welcome ceremony we’re swiftly guided along, deeper into the hotel. The courtyard leads to another walkway, which opens up into another courtyard. Stairs take us up to a big balcony with a stone fountain and this where we finally find our room. We have to pinch ourselves, did we end up in the wrong place perhaps? It’s completely surreal, this hotel is actually kind of magical. Our room is huge, luxurious and simply stunning, fit for a king and queen. We can’t believe our luck, looks like we booked ourselves an actual palace!

Waking up the next morning we learn it’s not too far from the truth either. Rawla Mrignayani is part of an 18th century Haveli, commissioned by Rai Kripa Ram, former prime minister of the then state of Jaipur. At some point the Haveli was gifted to the nobles of Karnot and it’s their descendants who still own Rawla Mrignayani today. Apart from the hotel, the immense property also houses a school and the owner’s residences. After three nights we’re still discovering new parts to it and the rooftop terrace has wonderful views of the city.

The Pink City

During the rule of Sawai Ram Singh I, in 1876, Jaipur was painted in its trademark pink colour to welcome Albert Edward, the Prince of Wales, hence its town centre is nicknamed the Pink City.

Hawa Mahal, or, the Palace of Winds

Amer Fort and surrounding area

On our first day we visit the Amer Fort and Palace, 11km from Jaipur, which was the residence of the Rajput Maharajas and built in the same style of Mughal architecture we’ve seen in Agra.

Afterwards our tuk-tuk driver brings us to the nearby Step Well, built to collect rainwater as well as being a Langur family’s favourite hangout, and Jal Mahal, the Water Palace in the middle of Man Sagar Lake, to conclude a successful day of sightseeing.

Nahargarh Fort

The next morning we stay in the city and visit Nahargarh Fort, built in the hills overlooking Jaipur. Its original walls extended over the surrounding hills all the way to the Jaigarh Fort in Amer where we visited yesterday.

Having seen all the forts, we dedicate the afternoon to figuring out our next mode of transportation. We’re getting off the beaten path which is the touristic Golden Triangle to make a side step to Bundi, a tiny village down south. Although we know there’s supposed to be an AC bus going to Bundi, it proves impossible to find it, so this morning we’ll be collected by a private driver instead. We’ve done Jaipur in style and it was great!

First taste of North India: Visiting Taj Mahal

Agra, 15-16 September

Sunday marks a big step in our 7 months on the road. We’re waking up at 5AM to travel 2,500km from Cochin in the south of India way up to Agra in the northern state of Uttar Pradesh. While the train to New Delhi takes 3 days (not including delays) our flight takes us there in just 3 hours, after which another 3 hours by train sees us to the home of the Taj Mahal!

While the south of India is known for being pretty easy-going, the north on the other hand is a lot more intense. The same way that Sri Lanka was a great introduction to South India, we figured South India would ease us into Rajasthan/Uttar Pradesh. Let’s hope it does!

Arriving at Delhi airport things already move at a much quicker pace. In less than half an hour we clear security, retrieve our luggage and get on board the metro to the train station. Delhi’s urban area is the second largest in the world and with over 26 million inhabitants it dwarfs Scotland and the Netherlands’ total combined! A milky white veil of smog covers the sky (it might be a nice day, we’re not quite sure?) but we’re not planning on hanging about.

In Alleppey, Yeti, our new friend from Delhi has shared some interesting stories about travelling in the north, which has prepared us at least a little for the scams, poverty and selfies we’re about to encounter at Delhi train station today.

We have already been asked to pose for a few selfies in India, but in the south it was usually families taking photos with us, and we both quite enjoy the idea of randomly ending up in the odd family album. In the north it’s an entirely different game: It’s almost always a guy on his own, or a group of guys, who essentially want to take a picture with Lauren so they can boast about it to others later. On the short walk between the metro and the train station we stupidly agree to one picture with a guy and seconds later we’re being pure fenced in by a crowd of men all waving their phones at us! Not sure where those pictures will end up, not in a family album I suspect. Ah the price you pay for being a famous blogger! 😉

The poverty is a bit more difficult to deal with. Though it’s only midday, being at Delhi train station is like being on the worst imaginable version of a night bus back home: People are lying sprawled out on the ground everywhere, drunks try to talk to you and ask for money, there’s no seats, it smells of raw sewage, and the floors are sticky. Now add to that some serious humidity, heavy bags, selfies, an entirely illogical station layout with severe lack of sign posting and kids following you around begging, that just about sums up the experience.

Similar to the selfies, we’ve been advised to ignore anyone asking for money. Begging is a big business in India, often run by cartels and it is said some beggars go as far as to maim themselves just to make more money, pretty gruesome stuff.. In Sri Lanka, by a local’s example, we’ve given money to the odd beggar, in North India begging is a lot more widespread. Between the time spent at the station and the train journey to Agra alone I’m asked for money by at least ten different people, but clearly it’s only tourists they engage.

Then finally there is scams. Just before the train arrives to Agra, we’re asked for our tickets by a random guy in a shirt, who’s clearly not the conductor. A friendly Sikh we’ve been sharing our carriage with quickly tells him what I assume is something along the lines of: Beat it, these two are with me, as he points to us and then himself, and the guy legs it. Scams are rife in the north so we better get wise to it quickly. The cheekiest one we’ve heard so far is from another tourist who was told to pay 1,000 rupees for a 20 rupee bottle of water!

When we arrive at the hostel we can conclude it’s been a successful day, we’re in Agra!

Taj Mahal

In Agra we’re visiting two major sights, both of them buildings from the Mughal era. First up on our list is the famous Taj Mahal on the banks of the river Yamuna, one of the big ticket items in India and voted one of the Seven New Wonders of the World.

Once again we get an early start to our day to arrive at the site before sunrise. Our hostel is a convenient 10 minute walk away from the Taj, which was commissioned in 1632 by Mughal emperor Shah Jahan to house the tomb of his favourite wife, Mumtaz Mahal, also housing the tomb of Shah Jahan himself. At its height, the Mughal empire was one of the largest empires in the history of South Asia, and the Taj Mahal is definitely impressive!

Taj monkey, a second before it lunged itself at Lauren

Agra Fort

In the afternoon we visit Agra Fort. This was the main residence of the emperors of the Mughal Dynasty until 1638. Once in ruins, it was rebuilt in red sandstone by Mughal emperor Akbar by 1573, and later partly remodeled in white marble by Akbar’s grandson Shah Jahan to match the nearby Taj Mahal.

Tomorrow we’ll be travelling to our first of the three painted cities, Jaipur in Rajasthan!

The return of the King

Munnar, 11-13 September

Today is Thiru Onam (Sacred Onam Day), the most important day of the annual harvest festival in Kerala. Yesterday the hotel owner has left to Alleppey for a family celebration so we’re locking up after ourselves before travelling by bus to Munnar.

We hear the legend of King Mahabali aka the Demon King, whose spirit visits Kerala at Onam: Mahabali once ruled the entire world and his reign was one of peace and prosperity: All of his subjects had a roof over their head and enough to eat, and there was no division based on caste or class. He was so loved by his people they started saying Thank the King, instead of Thank the Gods, which naturally didn’t go down too well with the latter. And so it was that Vishnu decided to take on the form of a little boy and visit the King to end his rule.

Upon their meeting, the king, known for his generosity, told the little boy he could have anything he wanted. The boy then asked for three feet of land, which was granted. It was then that Vishnu grew from a little boy into to a gigantic figure, who measured the Earth using one foot, and the entire universe with the next. Mahabali, knowing that his time had come, let Vishnu place his third foot on his head, causing him to drown in the netherworld. The king’s final wish was to return once every year to make sure his people are still prosperous and happy. Today people celebrate Onam by purchasing new clothes for their children and elders and sharing a big feast with family.

After hearing no division based on caste or class, suddenly something clicks. We’ve seen communist symbols all over Kerala: the hammer and sickle, portraits of Che and Fidel. It makes a lot of sense now. And communism to an extent seems to work here. For instance we’re told that poverty in Kerala is less compared to the rest of India. Though partly because of tourism, and partly because a lot of Keralans have jobs in the Middle East, but also because the state creates jobs. The state ferries have been an absolute joy, and every major town has a District Tourism Promotion Council office, but perhaps the weirdest initiative is that the state employs tuktuk drivers, who, for a nominal fee, take you to all the major tourist sights in an area, and receive extra payment in kind if they can get you to agree to enter either a state run spice garden or tea shop. You don’t even have to buy anything, simply stepping in to the shop means rice for your tuktuk driver!

So when we walk to the bus station in Kumily, preparations for Onam have already begun and everyone’s in their Sunday best. Munnar in the Western Ghats is about a hundred km north, which should be about a 4 hour drive over winding mountain roads, but unfortunately, due to heavy rainfall which has caused a landslide to block off the main road, our bus is stopping at Pooppara, a tiny little village about 30km from Munnar. After a few attempts we find a local bus to take us on the scenic 60km route to Munnar where we arrive before nightfall.

Munnar is in the heart of tea country, and nicknamed the Kashmir of South India, but the town (a big, giant eyesore) and the surrounding area (valleys draped in a rich tapestry of tea plantations) are like night and day.

The electrician awoke. Thankfully it was only a bad dream.

Suffice to say we’re not spending more time in town than we have to and book our tour with the Tourism Council, which conveniently takes us to all the worthwhile sights – and every dam, there are a lot – in the area.

Kerala has been a great start to our India adventure, next up we’re preparing to explore the opposite end of the country: Rajasthan.

In the home of Tigers

Kumily, 9-10 September

A two hour ferry journey, followed by a four hour bus journey takes us from the backwaters of Alleppey to the elevation of the Cardamom Hills. We’re staying in a place called Kumily, which is a small gateway town between the states of Kerala and Tamil Nadu and also where the entrance to Periyar Tiger Reserve is.

After the heat and chaos of Alleppey, visiting the cool and quiet hill country is an absolute treat. The name of the Cardamom Hills comes from the cardamom spice that grows here alongside pepper, coffee and of course plenty of tea. Passing by some breathtaking scenery on the way here it’s no wonder this is a World Heritage Site.

Not only the climate is better, compared to our last stay the new hotel is a breath of fresh air too. The balcony has an actual view this time and there’s loads of cheeky bonnet macaques running about in the gardens. Add a hot shower in the mix and Alleppey is nothing but a distant memory anymore.

In September, all National Parks in India are closed for the season, except for Periyar. The protected area covers 925 square km and is home to as many as 40 tigers. Obviously we would love to see one, but given the fact we’re only trekking for one day, we’re still in the rainy season, and the park is humongous, this proves to be too much to ask for. The park is beautiful though and we manage to spot Malabar Giant Squirrels, Nilgiri Langurs, Sambar Deer and Indian Bisons, and a lot of Elephant droppings, but just no Elephants..

We finish off a day well-spent with a lake cruise inside the park, held up by a group of Germans (not so punctual on holiday are they?)

As night falls on the pleasant little town of Kumily we’re preparing for what will already be our final destination in Kerala. Tomorrow is the big celebration of the Onam festival and we’re travelling north to Munnar.

Lessons in patience

Alleppey, 7-8 September

So far our experience with India is that in order to enjoy it you first have to fight it. Our time in Alleppey is a perfect example of this. After our grand entrance on the ferry begins our battle with India’s Little Venice.

Prior to our arrival we had romanticized Alleppey quite a bit. It’s described as a backpacker’s paradise known for its beautiful backwaters as well as its nice beach. We’re staying at a place advertised as beach hotel with a private balcony with a view, but in reality it’s a homestay with a view of the seedy little back street it is on. Though nearby, the nice beach area is more dirty than nice, as well as completely deserted. All of the nearby restaurants are shut and when we finally settle for a cold beer instead of a good meal on our first night, it feels like a pretty big win.

The next morning, in spite of a healthy dose of fresh resolve on our part, Alleppey keeps throwing curveballs. It’s 10AM Saturday morning and all we aim to do is take out cash and eat breakfast – not asking for much here! In the light of day the beachfront is as depressing as the night before so we quickly head into town. Traffic-congested and polluted are words that do not begin to describe the scene we’re walking into when we get to Alleppey town. It’s like the wacky races: a free-for-all of tuktuks, motorbikes, scooters, buses, cars, lorries and worst of all offenders: police patrol vehicles, producing big, billowing clouds of black smoke to the beat of frantic beeping. I will never complain about how busy Edinburgh gets on a Saturday ever again..

In the scorching heat we navigate roads without sidewalks, avoid massive puddles created by rainfall overnight and try to not to die in the onslaught of out of control vehicles, while being hassled to death by touts. For over two hours we try to find an ATM that works. Just when we’re about to give up, Bank of Baruda saves the day! It’s been a stressful morning, but nothing burgers and cocktails can’t fix, we’re still fighting fit.

At this point we’re not sure if we want to stay but decide to power through the final day. We’re told this running joke: The only Indian train ever to arrive on time is one that got delayed 24 hours. Dealing with India definitely requires a fair bit of patience, and, to quote our yoga instructor: (being) in harmony with your surroundings (or simply going with the flow).

Back home when a car beeps violently at you it usually means you’re about to get hit by it, so, constantly, my initial thought is to jump out of the way (about a hundred times a day). I’m now beginning to notice that the beeping here is more like a language: you can beep to say hello for instance, beep because you’re happy, or beep just because you haven’t beeped in the last five seconds. With this in mind it sure gets a lot easier to just ignore it and go about your Sunday (in harmony with your surroundings). Now that we know where the cash is at, we return to the same ATM for another injection (our future selves will thank us), find a great coffee place, hang out in the shade by the water and get drunk with a girl from Poland and a guy from Delhi, who give us some excellent tips for our upcoming visit to the north of India.

So Alleppey, did we beat it, or did it beat us? All we know is, we came there, we encountered resistance, we took control, once again the British and Dutch colonised the shit out if it! Time to trade in the coastal heat for the cooler elevation of the Cardamom Hills when we are travelling to Kumily.

We’re on a boat! (ft. KSWTD)

Kollam to Alleppey, 6 September

Despite yesterday’s discouraging note we manage to leave Munroe Island train station without an issue. Our train is supposed to be here at 8:00, but when we get to the station at 7:50, the delayed 7:00 train is just ready for boarding. There we go. A measly 10 Rs gets us to Kollam where we hop on the Kerala State Water Transport Department’s (or KSWTD’s) public ferry to Alleppey. The total distance is about 85km, which will take roughly 7-8 hours through the amazing South Indian waterways. We’re in luck: the weather is bright and sunny and we’re about the only passengers on the boat! Private cruise anyone?

Soon we leave the mangroves that protect Kollam’s shores, pass under the bridge at Thevalli Palace and reach the open waters of Ashtamudi Lake. Suddenly loads of birds come flying up to us to catch fish in the motor’s slipstream. We’re on the top deck and get some great views of egrets flying alongside us.

We pass more of the Chinese fishing nets we’ve seen in Cochin and wave at fishermen speeding by in their small boats.

Before long we’re on the backwaters. Between the bright blue skies, the reflective brown-green water, all the palm trees and the colourful boats and houses, this place is something special.

In the afternoon we see herons, and lots and lots of eagles catching fish.

We stop off for Chai tea and a little slice of home: these bad boys that look and taste almost identical to Dutch oliebollen.

After an entertaining day on the water, finally we’re seeing the famous houseboats go past, which means we’re in Alleppey. Thank you KSWTD, we’ve had a blast!