From Kodaikanal to Trivandrum

Since I picked up a copy of 'The Beach' back in Laos, I've always a had a book in my bag. Sometimes I'd fly through it in just a matter of days (Dan Brown), other times I wouldn't plough to the end for weeks (Barack Obama). However, this is the first time I've had a book which is helping me grasp a deeper knowledge of the country I'm travelling in. 'The Age Of Kali' by William Dalrymple is a collection of essays from India in the 1990s, but it gives a fascinating insight into both the present and the past. When I was unsure whether to enter Nepal or not, I think I partly decided not to go because 'The Age Of Kali' made me realise I still had so much more to learn about India. One of the chapters inparticular would turn out to be very relevant to my travels. Dalrymple talks about his visit to The Meenaksi temple in Madurai, and the sacred ceromonies that continue today, unchanged, as they did in ancient times. Madurai became a 'must-do' stop on my journey.

I said goodbye to Kodaikanal on Friday. The place uninspired me, but at one point it did make me giggle for the first time in a while. The two locals standing beside me couldn't understand what was going on. They interchanged between looking at me and looking in the direction I was facing, but they didn't get the joke. I couldn't help it though, the choice of photo which had been put onto the sign for the Hotel Ruchi Restaurant made me laugh.

Before long I was at the bus stop, and the prospect of getting a cheap and fast car journey down to Madurai seemed too good to turn down. I was told that the car was going there to be returned, and the driver was very friendly. He even bought me a tea at our halfway stop.

We arrived at Maduraui as it was getting dark, and once I checked into my hotel I had a stroll around. For the first time in quite a while, I was remainded what I was travelling for. Just around the corner in the buzzing streets were a series of lights going skyward; The Meenaksi temple. Amongst the regular street folk were groups of pilgrims who had come to worship there. They wore only black, although many also chose to be barechested. There was a unique atmosphere around the streets. However, when I approached the temple there was a huge queue. I decided to delay my visit until the following day; I felt like I needed to give myself a little recap in what the temple was about before getting bamboozled in it. I spent the rest of the evening strolling around Madurais fascinating streets.

On Saturday daytime I ventured inside the temple. Unfortunetely, some of the most holy parts are for Hindus only, but there is still much to see, and a lot of atmosphere to soak up. There were various impressive statues, a large water tank, and also the temple elephant who blessed the pilgrims in the same why I had seen in Hampi. However, I was yet to witness what Dalrymple had talked about in his book; that would have to wait for the evening.

Every evening at 9pm, figures of the god and goddess Meenaksi and Shiva are carried to the temple bedchamber to, so it goes, ensure the regeneration of the universe. I returned to the temple for the ceremony, but I wasn't quite sure where about in the temple I needed to be. However, I hung around and hoped to not miss out. If anything, the atmosphere was more intense in the evening than earlier in the day. People's devotion to the various idols around the temple was even more intense. At one point I stood next to an elderly woman as she marked the entrance to one of the Hindu-only sections in a white powder pattern. I had no idea why.

Suddenly I noticed that a crowd had formed around the corner. I joined it at the back. Within moments a small chariot-like box was being ushered through the people-made corridor. This was clearly what I had been waiting for. I followed as closely as I could, and surprisingly easily, I reached within a metre of the chariot. Before long it arrived at the entrance to the Hindu-only section I was by earlier, and it was placed above the white powder pattern.

It stayed there for a long time, but it was a relief; as soon as it entered the room, I would be able to see no more. Me and a handful of other tourists stayed where we were, mesmorised by events that we didn't realise still existed in the civilised world. As a mild smoke blew in the direction of the chariot, one bare-chested man fanned it, presumably to cool it down. Behind me were a small group of musicians, the most impressive of whom was playing what looked like a flute whose end had exploded, and sounded like a wildly flailing but fun trumpet. Finally the procession continued, and assuming that this was indeed the ceremony I had read about, the bedchamber awaited. If I remember correctly, various Hindus ran into the forbidden room behing the chariot, whilst a group of lost looking tourists hung outside for a few moments before realising it was time to leave. And so I did.

Outside the temple I came across an enthusiastic bunch of locals wanting their picture taking. It's difficult to explain to them that my camera display is broken, so only once their excitement is at it's peak and they await to see themselves in digital form, do they find themselves staring blankly at a smashed screen.

Madurai is the best place I've been to for ages, but it is further boosted by the excellent, if wordy, Gandhi Memorial Museum. Being in India, I felt obliged to enchance my somewhat limited knowledge of one of the greatest figures of the twentieth century. It was very interesting. For the journey home I took a cyclo rickshaw. My elderly driver had to put a lot of hard work into moving the vehicle, but he let me have a go at cycling for a while, and we took a breather halfway for a tea. It took a long time to get home though!

Yesterday I moved on from Madurai and arrived in Trivandrum. It's fairly nice for a city, despite there being little to do. However, it represents how the South India can be relatively calm compared to the north, even in the cities. It is also clearly much more wealthy than many other parts of the country. However, tommorow I head north again to Alappuzha. There I will rejoin Hannah once again to celebrate her birthday, and most probably Christmas.

From Bengaluru to Kodaikanal

Things have been fairly low-key lately. Firstly I moved from Hampi to Bengaluru (formerly Bangalore). It was the most modern and Western feeling city I've been to in India, but was ultimately quite uninteresting. I then moved on to Mysore, a popular place for local tourists. It's famous for it's market; I've never seen so many bananas!

Mysore was followed by Ooty, another popular place for local tourists. Up in the hills it was chilly and green and felt like England. Again, there was little to do, but I did meet the goalkeeper of Chennai (formerly Madras) football team, plus I visited surely the worlds worst theme park; Jolly World! After spending the 5 rupee entrance fee (about 6 pence), I strolled around the nearly-empty gardens, dangerous looking climbing frames, and stationery circular rides, before leaving ten minutes later. I didn't feel even remotely more jolly.

Ooty was followed by an impromptu stop in Palani, a town not even in my guidebook. I was clearly off the beaten track based on the stares from the locals, but after one night I moved on. I now find myself in Kodaikanal, another Ooty-style Indian tourist town, but the foggy views ruin the otherwise beautiful scenery.

So maybe I've been on the road for too long, but clearly the last week or so has been unexciting. I now enter my final month. Hopefully the grand finale is just around the corner.

From Nasik to Hampi

As planned, Monday involved a day trip to Trimbak before returning to Nasik for my journey to Hyderabad. Trimbak translates as 'Three-Eyes', another name for the Hindu god Shiva, and is a very famous place for Hindus. However, few foreign tourists seem to go there, and I was once again the centre of intrigue for the Indian pilgrims. The main part of my visit was to do the Brahmagiri hike; an uphill walk to the remains of Anjeri Fort, and eventually to the source of the Godavari river. It was a pleasant hike with some good views.

At the remains of the fort I was approached by numerous locals wanting to chat and take pictures (often with my camera and without even asking to see the results!). As further great scenery spanned into the distance, the pleasant atmosphere was further boosted by a man who gently lectured to a group of obdient listeners. My guess was that he was telling tales from the holy books. Later the pilgrims would queue up by the man to be blessed by water from a well. With an evening train to catch I decided not to progress further to the source of the river (my guidebook described it as 'rather unimpressive' anyway), and I trekked back down the hill.

That evening I took the night train south to Hyderabad, and after a low-key Tuesday I explored the place on Wednesday. Unfortunetly I found the place quite uninspiring; just another busy Indian city, albeit with a slight Islamic influence.

On Wednesday night I took the night train to Hampi. I have been on the road now for well over ten months, and I think it's understandable to say at this point that I am now rarely taken back by something. However, when I arrived at Hampi's river on early Thursday, I was taken back. From what I had been told, Hampi was unique because of the boulders that are scattered around the landscape, sometimes seemingly defying gravity as they balance upon one another. I had seen something like this before back at Devil's Marbles in Australia. However, Hampi was different. The beautiful boulder-scattered river winded through a landscape where hills and mountains were formed by boulders. It was quite bizarre. Furthermore, memories of Varanasi came back to me as locals washed their clothes joyfully in the waters. As I sat on the steps awaiting a boat to take me to the other side of the river, an elephant appeared some distant away on the steps, plodding down to the river's edge accompanied by his rider. He subsequently got a morning bath.

Hampi is a very laid back place, but to my surprise, there is also a strong backpackers' scene, with many lazing here for extended periods of time. I therefore too found myself intermitently sandwiching days of exploration with days of laziness. I spent time playing chess, and also giving advice to a bunch of locals who were setting up a restaurant. All their proceeds were going to charity, but as of yet they had sold merely a few cups of tea in the week or two they had been open. I hope they take on board my advice if they are going to make it!

It was Friday before I trekked to the temples and pathways to the North-East of the main bazaar. By chance though, it was the start of a Hindu festival, and yet more Indians in the busy crowds found great glee in saying hello and asking where I was from. Late afternoon I climbed to the summit of Matanga Hill, but after scurrying past a few steep drops, I was happy to found out that there was an alternative way down on the otherside.

On Saturday I relaxed a lot but also visited Virupaksha Temple. It was fairly dull, but worth the 2 rupee entrance fee to see Lakshmi up close, the temple elephant I had seen two days earlier. The local kids took great glee in placing a rupee in his trunk. In return, Lakshmi would bless them (plonk his trunk on their head).

On Sunday I embarked on a lengthy walk to the temple complex to the south, got mobbed by a huge group of school kids who yelled ecstatically once they got a picture with me, and finally headed back along a country path. However, the path didn't quite go where I expected. I eventually had to turn around, ask for directions, and wade through a shallow stream to get myself back to Hampi before it was too late. Strangely, it's the satisfaction of survival I get from these type of walks which make them the best!

Tonight I take the night bus to Bangalore, a city I expect little from, but a link to the following destination; Mysore.