Trippy
Bangalore kept our social diaries consistently jam-packed during my final month. Flexible working hours at post-summer-camp also kept our wanderlust satisfied, visiting Madikeri, and 'God's own country'; land of the coconuts, Kerala. The volunteer work has slowed down after the summer camps, being in the office daily acquainted us properly with the core team of our project. My favourite, Bobby, was a ball of energy, liked to punch your arm or back in greeting. then proceed to ask VERY deep philosophical questions. When I left he'd just announced he was due to marry long term love, Diana. who he'd never been in a room with alone. Family politics is SO complicated in this country.
Our daily routine at the office would consist of arriving at work for 10am, sweating it out until 1.30pm, after which time we'd feast at our regular lunch haunt 'Adiga's'. Post lunch, we'd usually just. lie down. The floor tiles were our only hope of staying cool. Whilst on the topic of lunch, I'll admit that India is really fast and really good at fast food. Though the menu at Adiga's was colorful and varied, we ashamedly, didn't actually know what a vast portion of the dishes were. When you frequently suffer bleak times in terms of intestine control, you learn to stick with what you know food-wise. SO, our daily diet would be 'roti curry'.
For reliably bowel friendly, delicious, filling, spicy and messy (as it's all eaten with your fingers) cuisine, 20 rupees (25p) was definitely worth it. The greasy western-equivalent fast-food available here though, was always disappointing and meals would cost over 100 Rupees (£1.25), which my dears, is an absolute scandal.
Another brilliant resource here is the availability and cost of fresh exotic fruit. As it's mango season the nation goes batty in its celebration of this ever-popular fruit. Mango festivals to rejoice in the mango's diversity feature delights such as mango biriyani (Indian risotto), mango ice-cream, mango curry, mango bread, mango halwa, mango mithai (both a type of sweet), mango jelly, mango juice etc. Apparently there are some 15 varieties. Huge, juicy, golden, sweet and the most widely available variety sells for Rs10 per item and puts Tesco's £1.49 excuse for a mango to shame. Bunches of fat baby bananas will set you back about Rs5 and king size bananas and oranges are about Rs3 each. Fruits like apples and pears were extortionate, so we had to settle for bargain tropical treats. Yum.
Monsoon Rains:
Something I thought I'd never see owing to the timing of my whereabouts is of course the earth quenching, drain saturating, wet splashy puddle waters of the monsoon rains! Astonishingly, India though a country that has a monsoon, like clockwork, every year, seems surprised when the heavens open. Bucket- loads of refreshing moisture would cascade from the sky for 20-30 minutes in the evenings and then the sunshine would appear again. The medieval drains sadly can't swallow the sudden overflow so roads, pavements, people's houses and make-shift cardboard/canvas lodgings take the surplus. Why does nobody THINK about flooding in ADVANCE?! Arrgghh.
Madikeri Trip:
Madikeri was a trip Abi and I went on alone, as the only real activity there was walking, which for some reason, others weren't so enthusiastic about it. An energetic e-number fuelled party at Macdonald's with Vishwas all afternoon, then going for a final beer with Humphrey who was leaving, gave us an hour to pack and be ready to leave for the bus station. Throughout this time, the floodwaters were raging; rickshaw drivers were scarce, didn't care for the cash and wouldn't take us home! Finally, at this point completely saturated with water, we found our man and went racing like lightning, through the lightning and showers to have another shower, pack up and shoot.
Madikeri is a tiny, rural village, cold enough to wear a jumper. It had a very odd atmosphere, and on arrival it was immediate that white skinned lady travellers were a rare specimen. Ignoring shouts, stares and the slowing of the traffic (4 - 5 vehicles) we dumped our bags in a guesthouse and went on our 16k hike to Abbi Falls! We felt very proud of ourselves after the walk, and the scenery was exquisite. Unfortunately, spoiling our blissful Zen-like moment somewhat were the crowds of Indian tourists whose attention was diverted from the waterfalls, to us. Constantly. One woman even made a conscious effort to cross a road to stand beside us to look more closely.
Kerala:
Kerala (literally coconut-land) is the most south-western state and absolutely unparalleled throughout India for its other-worldly beauty. It has a temperate climate, the monsoon was in full swing and the lazy pace of its backwater traffic was addictive. After our surprisingly comfortable twelve hour overnight train journey, we arrived in Kochi early and immediately went for a tour of the backwaters. The scenery was spellbinding. Our tongues had been frozen in our awe of the expanse of emerald green marsh land, canopies of tropical fruit-bearing trees sheltering lily carpeted lagoons, with the rain silently breaking the inky smooth surface water, whilst we meandered at snail's pace through paradise. It was hard to believe this was in Kochi, the capital city of Kerala! The absolute antithesis of
Bangalore.
The return journey wasn't without its own special drama naturally. We'd booked our tickets in advance, but due to an extensive waiting list, didn't have reserved bunks. Thus, we had to sit in the female-only compartment of the train to wait and see if any became available. Things started badly in that the train was 2 hours late. Women and children were squashed into every possible corner of the carriage and even the luggage holds; there was barely breathing room. At first, Lauren couldn't even get onto the train. After I'd moved my rucksack, she just about squeezed in though was hanging out of the open door. This was very funny at first until we seriously considered the fact that we had 12 hours of journey time through the night to go. We were conscious that we sounded diva-esque but asked one girl if people ACTUALLY travelled like this, for TWELVE hours. She just shrugged and said of course. Lauren and I shared a narrow little bunk all the way to the concrete jungles of
Bangalore, and though being bendy has its advantages when there is limited sleeping room, our aching necks and backs paid the price in the morning.
Aerosmith in Concert:
The highlight of my June, as you could probably guess was seeing Aerosmith live in concert. A novelty never to be forgotten. We were quite a distance from the stage, as we'd bought the cheaper tickets. This didn't of course prevent our ecstatic reception of the music showcased by the five aging rock gods. I think the Indian crowd were completely overwhelmed and had no concept of what an encore was. The band walked off without singing 'Walk This Way' and 'Don't Wanna Miss a Thing' and people started leaving, grumbling about it. But of course they came bombing back on to the stage with choruses of 'Joe fuckin' Perry' (started up by Steve) to deliver the goods. It was a thrillingly noisy, exhausting, glamorous, rock and roll head banging day all round. My voice had completely deserted me by the end, and I was close to weepies, when those timeless lyrics "I could stay awake, just to heeeear you breeeeathin" began.
Saying goodbye to
Bangalore was really tough, made worse by the fact that I was leaving for an alien city to start all over again, rather than coming home. Terrific friends, our beyond compare Gapguru rep Hema and Maria Auntie and Albert Uncle made Bangalore so special and now in Delhi, I can fully appreciate what an amazing time I had there. And how cool temperature-wise it was! Delhi's delights I'll leave to a separate email, as there's plenty to keep you busy for now.