Epilogue

... Don't skip the penultimate excerpt on Delhi, scroll down below....

I am now back home wondering what to make of the whole Indian adventure. One thing is for certain, in all its intensity there was never a dull moment. Apart from acquiring a poor replica of their head wobble, (which to my mind equals 'maybe yes/maybe no'), I've hurtled towards a mass of contradictions from sublime beauty to the hideously hideous; from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows; from heartfelt generosity to downright deceit; from the most sumptuous of healthy meals to those truly unfit for consumption and I've witnessed religious practices that even the artist Hieronymus Bosch could not have imagined.

I feel truly grateful for all the advantages of living in the West, of not having to tolerate regular power cuts, pestering, the unbearable heat, humidity and then freezing cold, relentless noise, bedlam, smells, large creepy crawlies and worse... oh and all the 'in your face' mcp nonsense. Yet for all that, here in London at least, we seem to be spiritually lacking, uninvolved, grey and purposeless. Curiosity, the sense of community and respect for elders cements India as does its colour, jingle-jangle and complete intoxicating zest for life. Why not go there and discover for yourself!

Last Days

The New Year has just rolled in - may it be a happy and healthy one for you all

By the way, Can you see me above in the screeching pink bikini dodging the waves? That is the beach in Varkala and my last breath of fresh air before heading back to Delhi which, in stark contrast, was shrouded in a thick smog.

I was glad to see more of the capital, it is overlooked and under-rated. The Modern Museum of Art alone is an inspiration. To be enveloped by huge, colourful tableaux and sculptures all beautifully displayed makes our contemporary art scene pale into insignificance. For the first time in years I even felt the urge to pick up a paintbrush and just 'do it anyway!' Before waxing more lyrical, below is Subodh Gupta's painting “Three Cows” which is a testament to all our bovine friends stuck in well travelled roads across this enormous country:

I then had the privilege of being shown around other pockets of Delhi by a very interesting architect. After Dilli Haat (arts and crafts), we visited the 18th Century Safdarjung Tomb which was built in the late Mughal Empire style with corresponding gardens. It provides the perfect backdrop for couples who wish to spend quality time together whilst not being judged for their mild PDAs (public displays of affection).

Delhi has a bit of everything but you can also escape from it in the many parks, sadly we only had time to visit the landscaped Lodhi Garden. Spread of 90 acres and has several tombs (yes, even there!) dating back to the 15th and 16th centuries. It is equally a magnet for birds and the constant traffic is unable to drown out their songs and warblings.

In full circle even my final night in India was bizarre. It was capped by eating at an American style diner at a cultural centre and then watching a surreal 'stupidity clowning' play which had its audience in stitches and me in confusion! Anything is possible in this country....

Fake snow and the beach

It has been go, go, go so let's start with the Crimble bit since so many of you have asked... Well, loads of tacky Christmas trees with fairy lights and false snow, a few jingles in the background and ZERO turkey or stuffing were basically as good as it got. Still, I took great comfort in grilled jumbo prawns and cocktails followed by delicious banana crepes on the Eve itself which went on till the wee hours (playing jenga with a large group of merry Indians). Christmas day was a heady mix of poolside and beach (with the occasional onlooking cow) and lunch was almost amusingly bomb-dived by greedy crows.

We hung out in Mamallapuram (also known as backpackistan as it is a bit of a traveller's ghetto) and it was a lot of fun. On the cultural side there's the famous Shore temple built originally in the 7th Century (Pallava period in this part of Tamil Nadu) but then re-built. Cut out of rock and overlooking the sea, it represents the 'perfect cosmic body,' facing east and west for sunrise and sunset. It is believed to be the last of a series of sister temples to survive as the others were revealed only after the recent tsunami.

Then there are the Five Rathas (meaning chariots in Sanskrit) which are carved from a single piece of rock and are basically low-laying monoliths, each dedicated to a Hindu god. Only discovered 200 years ago, (by us Brits), each one has its own rather large animal mount for protection - obviously an elephant is compulsory... Nearby are Mandapans (more rock-cut temples) scattered over even more rocks which are covered in trash. People also travel from far and wide to see Arjuna's Penance which is an extraordinary relief carved into a huge boulder, depicting Hindu and South Indian life. Although it is holy (Shiva and sages feature) somebody definitely had a wry sense of humour as a domesticated cat seems to be doing penance in front of an audience of highly amused/bemused mice.

Now we are back in Kerala - Varkala to be exact which is a beautiful beach resort (yes, there are temples too) and famous for its Ashram (more Indian style than Auroville). Ironically we have been advised not to eat fish because it 'might not be fresh' so are feeling a tad deprived. Still the large row of restaurants perched high on the cliff offer a pretty good smorgasbord for all tastes.

La Belle France!!

The Bay of Bengal just wouldn't be the same without a former pretty fishing village. Comparatively calm (what!?), equipped with a proper grid system, clean (ok in places), sprinkled with cathedrals, a nicely manicured park, croissants are readily available here. Welcome to a slice of French heritage called Pondicherry. Not exactly a provencal village but for a refreshing moment a weary traveller can experience a trickle of a great colonial past.

Invaded for centuries when it became a major port - and by all those usual suspects: Greeks, Romans, Pallavas, Cholas, Sultans, the Dutch, Brits, Ports and Danes, Pondi was under French control for nearly 300 years and is dubbed the 'White City.' Yet another palette in this colourful country.

It is also a bit of a spiritual mecca with ashrams magnetising people in search of enlightenment. The most famous of these was set up by former freedom fighter, Sri Aurobindo. A poet, philosopher and yogi, he set up his ashram to help 'transform consciousness'. Whilst it is a still and beautiful place, it wasn't for me (fear not mum and dad - I'm not running off to mystical bliss). On the menu were NO yoga lessons (at least for the likes of me), a glib reference to the inmates (aka the live-ins) and a list of regulations and 'shoulds.' In the meditation garden I contemplated why authority isn't my bag and then my attention skipped over to the playful chipmunks.

It doesn't stop there though as Sri also joined forces with a French dame - called the mother - who went on to establish Auroville in 1968. Her vision was to create a 'universal town' where 'everyone can live in peace and realise human unity', it seems to operate like a kind of kibbutz and has settlers from all over the world. It did't feel very inclusive or unifying to me as we weren't allowed in the gold domed Matriminder (massive meditation hall with the world's biggest man-made crystal ball). There is always a silver lining as I managed to get some organic tahini here after weeks of deprivation so happily munched and contemplated an even tastier croissant instead.

Ancient Capitals Galore

Skimming through the last few days spent in the ancient capital of Thanjavur (of Dravidian history ie pre Ayrian if that makes a difference, reader). Now it is a typically chaotic, cacophonic, dirty AND smelly Indian city. Walking down the streets is like taking your life in your hands - either there is crazy and I mean C R A Z Y traffic or badly broken pave stones placed over an endless network of sewers. As we know all too well, India is not for the faint-hearted.

Brihadishwara temple and fort complex made the street navigation worthwhile. Commissioned 56 years before the Battle of Hastings by Rajaraja I, (name translates as 'king of kings' so roll over all of those already mentioned monarchs in Rajasthan!), this guy was truly organised. He had the names and addresses of all his slaves - I mean courtiers - engraved into the temple walls. Modern India - there is a lesson in that! Anyway Rajaraja obviously ruled the roost very nicely thank you with his 400 dancers, (each given their own on-site house for 24/7 entertainment no doubt), tailors, astrologers, accountants, chefs, musicians, artisans, gurus etc. He sure must have thrown a mean party or two!

Frankly each temple we visit seems to get bigger, I can't say better as they are so different but this one is dedicated to Shiva and therefore very much part of a well-established pilgrim circuit. Inevitably we were roped into photo shoots with women and girls in red saris on a 6 day temple to temple marathon.

To describe the 'big temple' ie the inner sanctum.... it has no less than 13 storeys in the middle of a gigantic courtyard. How they got that heavy tawny sandstone carried over here is not known; strangely reminiscent of Egypt and Mexico... The outer gateways are smaller and topped by pyramidal towers with carved figures and fanged door guardians. I learnt that as the centuries went by, temples were built with smaller inner sancta but larger gateways as the idea of 'protecting something from sight' became more popular.

We also went to Saraswathi Mahal library, one of the oldest in Asia. Its collection includes rare palm leaf manuscripts which are mainly in Sanskrit, paintings by English artists (!) and graphic diagrams on Chinese torture. Hey, all makes sense... really.

The Great Escape

Not in my wildest dream could I have imagined what lay ahead.... Just 3 days ago we tried to cross the border from Kerala to Tamil Nadu. Rumour had it that there were intermittent mild troubles because of the ongoing dam issue but, upon arrival, the presence of Keralan police spelled otherwise. Whilst at the border it seemed worthwhile chatting to the Chief of Police anyway (a lovely man) who encouraged me to speak to the Tamil Nadu policeman just a few yards away. A not so lovely man, this guy said he would check with his commander in charge and left me waiting with the paparazzi. They were busy filming me so I asked them to stop and then we started chatting. "He iz bad man." one of them said in broken Ingleeesh. "Not safe, Ma'am." said another. Their warning was enough for me to cross back over the border to be promptly greeted by more pap - also more filming. No idea which/how many tv news stations might have featured me but the local Keralan press got a pic of Ros storming back to our autorickshaw in the inner cover of their daily paper. We have sure left our mark!

This was not, however, the only blockade. Where is the king of cool (aka Steve McQueen) when you need him?? You might have to re-read the next sentence.... Our 2nd epic attempt to leave Kerala was nearly thwarted by a cluster of... I kid you not.... 20+ rather large grey monkeys blocking our exit. Mr and Mrs monkey and their brood simply wouldn't budge - no sirey - they looked on nonchalantly as I tried stamping feet and making weird noises to galvanise them into 'appropriate' action. "Help!" I feebly shouted over to Ros. "Do something!" "What do you want me to do?" was the curt but discernibly scared retort. Finally we escaped by the skin of our teeth, praying these cheeky beasts wouldn't jump, scratch or bite. Cute they might look but best far off in the treetops.

So, what should've been a 3 hour cross border car journey became a 19 hour mission possible adventure the majority of which on a 'luxury' sleeper a/c coach. Whilst passengers are not allowed to open the curtains or switch on the reading lights to encourage 'rest' the coach operators have a select mix of either violent movies or twangy whiney music at full blast throughout. An ideal journey for a hyperactive insomniac! Still, at 3am I found myself negotiating a favourable autorickshaw rate over a cup of chai in order to get to our 'deluxe' hotel.... finally

Upon arrival (btw this is Tiruchirapalli, T Nadu) we were heartened to read about the said hotel's promised '24 hour check in and check out service' and 'we provide a warm welcome to our guests' but disheartened to see the snoring security guard. There was no waking him up from deep slumber so our new beds for the next 2 hours became the sticky leather sofas in the lobby with English blood-hungry mosquitoes. 2 hours later we were taken to our room - I should say 3 rooms until we got to one with non threadbare and clean(ish) sheets. Deluxe hotel .... see what I mean?!? This is India for you.

Needless to say we are taking things easy now and have only just visited Sri Ranganathaswamy Temple (14th Century). It encloses part of the Srirangam villages and covers over 60 hectares, making it one of the biggest temples in India. You have to go through no less than 7 extremely ornate gopurams (walled courtyards) to reach the inner sanctum that is dedicated to Vishnu. Many of the temples are for Hindus only but with over 70 courtyards to see and a lot of people watching that was fine by us.

Dinner now and I've just spotted Domino pizza .. forget gluten free and quality... it has really come to that!

21 Beds Later

No idea where we are now! This isn't a direct result of travel fever but our current stop-off is known simultaneously as Periyar, Kumily and Thekkady. There is a 'pedantic' difference between the three and it is right by the border with Tamil Nadu. Given the ongoing conflict with the infamous dam (see last blog), we are hoping to be safely deposited this side of the border tomorrow and safely collected the other.

Wildlife rules in this place (whatever it is really called) but plays by its own elusive rules. On our 3 hour forest trek we didn't see much - the occasional leech (a true delight), bisons' footprints, grey monkeys, beehives and honeycombs as well as a huge wasp nest. However from our homestay we were treated with the sight of 5 big black langur monkeys feasting on trees and threatening to clamber on to our balcony for more feasting (and pilfering). Also tonight the streets were ablaze with a plague of giant flying ants; they only last a few hours and come out about once a year so weren't we the privileged ones?!

Prior to here it was Munnar - tea plantation land which is surrounded by exquisite landscapes, lakes and waterfalls. Apparently it produces better tea than Darjeeling and Assam put together but the best of the batch is exported. Next time you fancy a cuppa check the small print of the box to see if Munnar features.

Like everywhere in India just a handful of people seem to rule the roost. The biggest tea plantation in Munnar is owned by a company called Tata who also manufacture cars amongst other large scale ventures. The plantation is run a bit like John Lewis Plc as 97% of employees are shareholders however its previous colonial owners gave out salaries in special currency which meant that people didn't abscond. A clever ruse which comes to light only at their museum (one of oldest in India).

Our first forest trek here was a bit more revealing and dangerously slippery. Highlights included sightings of the deepest leopard scratches you could imagine on trees and tiger footprints in the mud. As a hill station it sure was ccccold at night so we whiled away one evening at a Kalarippayattu show. Dating back to the 12th Century this is a forerunner of martial arts and extremely exacting. The levels of fitness and dexterity needed are extraordinary - it involves gymnastics, poles, huge swords, bare hands and daggers. I couldn't turn down the offer to have a trial down in their pit afterwards and exchanged a few rusty Tai Chi tips for some sword slaying techniques. Maybe I will come back home fighting fit after all!! A bit dirtier, a bit lighter and very much looking forward to a plate of my mum's cooking.