Chip Chip, Clink Clink, Maa

Ahhh, the sweet sounds of Mamallapuram... We arrived in the proclaimed hippie beach town with no expectations except for the fact that it was hippie, most places served beer, and it was home to not one but two World Heritage Sites (take that Lifa!). Splurging an extra few rupes we got a super clean room with a psychotic fan and bug screens to boot. Because Aaron picked up a cold in Pondy and promptly gave it to me by the time we arrived in Mamallapuram we were both feeling, well, not so hot. We spent some time sleeping and resting and I used about a roll of tp just blowing my nose. But the cold didn't keep us down for long and we celebrated Aaron's big 25 in style with beach lounging, beers, fresh seafood, and late night banana-nutella pancakes and more beers.

Besides blistering heat, the town had some other interesting traits going for it. Firstly the sculpting scene is totally out of control. A chip chip here and a chip chip there almost every second shop houses tiny to gigantic rock sculptures of Ganesha, Shiva, and Vishnu in all their traditional and very non-traditional poses, all sorts of animals, Kama sutra balls, candle holders, boxes, Buddhas and just about anything you want can be created if you're willing to wait a few days, weeks, or even months depending on the size and detail of the piece. The sound of chisel on rock echos through out the town from dawn until dusk and the sheer mass quantities that are produced are amazing. Because sculpting is a deep tradition rooted in Mamallapuram there is a museum to house some of the finer works that have been produced by local artists. We didn't escape without buying a dancing Ganesha which we (sort of) got ripped off on on because Aaron cut in on my supreme bargaining skills and agreed before I had sealed the deal...however, now after that and getting ripped off on a pineapple purchase and unwanted nails in his new shoes he's learned to let me do all the talking.

The "clink clink maa" of Mamallapuram comes from the beggars that have taken a liking to the tourist hangout. They wander around with their metal cups and clinking coins mulling "maa, maa". Now, I have no idea what "maa" means but my strategy on the matter was just saying it right back to them in their face. "Maa", "Maa!". Most of the time it ended up in laughter on their part. They think I'm crazy and don't come asking again cause they know they'll just get "Maa!". Ha ha ha ha. Maa.

After a few days of recovery and lounging in the 'Blue Elephant' restaurant which played all the lastest rap hits (we were almost sure it was DJ PJ spinning) we decided to go templing. Our attempts to find a bicycle rental place failed miserably as no one here really works and you know, it was Sunday and all so we huffed it by foot to see some of the major temples in the area (there are a few dozen all together). We visited the Five Retha's which are five different temples dedicated to different Gods, each temple being carved out of a single piece of rock and all still being attached to the bedrock below. The temples were only uncovered by the British 200 years ago so they are beautifully preserved with bulls, elephants and lions guarding the sites which made for some nice rabies-free animal petting. We then wandered to the Shore Temple after Aaron got ripped off buying a crappy pineapple and I avoided being a part of Indian families photographs. The Shore temple is about 300m from the Bay of Bengal and after the tsunami, is now protected by a very large wall of rocks. The temple itself is small and "romantic" as the LP describes but also very very old and in pretty great condition considering it gets battered by wind, waves and a double monsoon every year. The setting sun provided some great lighting and yes, for a moment in time the LP was right... it was a little romantic. We stopped on some other temples, caves, carvings and lighthouses but without a bike the higher than normal heat was making my back/butt sweat a little too noticeable and we retired to a nice cold shower.

But alas, I must go. We're leaving Tamil Nadu for Orissa. A two day, 21hr+ train ride awaits...all the way up to Puri.

To Ponder a Cherry

After a very bumpy and sleepless bus ride Aaron and I arrived on the East coast of India in the very French and very colonial Pondicherry. Amazed by the cleanliness and clearly marked street signs and numbers (even numbers!) we did a lot of wandering and some chores and enjoyed some deliciously cold beers on one of the many rooftop restaurants dedicated for whitey pleasures. Aaaaah! The French are wonderful people! The city is somewhat divided in an East - West way, the French being in the East and the more Indian/Tamil areas being in the West. We spent most of our time in Le East but checked out the Tamil side for knock-off DVD's and other necessities. Besides exploring, we visited one of the many Ashrams in the city which unfortunately was completely off limits to photographs. The inside of the grounds were the most peaceful place of been in India to date, even more peaceful than Buddha's Bodhi tree of enlightenment. There were beautifully manicured gardens and potted flowers beyond the imagination and many people, both foreigner and Indian, meditating and praying and being flexible. The Ashram was founded by a woman known as "The Mother" who apparently knows everything about everything and can answer any questions you may ponder. Like, "why are there no cherries in Pondicherry?". Anyway, there were a million pictures of her and books written by her, or more like books with answers to questions people had asked her and generally the whole town of Pondicherry is pretty much obsessed with her. We also visited the extremely expensive (2rps) history museum which houses all sorts of old stuff in an old colonial house. Coins, beads, pottery, furniture, maps, statues and to Aaron's delight, a very large rock collection (I thanked my lucky stars it was so hot or we would have been there for hours - phew!). After the Ashram and the rocks we were so tuckered out by the heat we once again rewarded ourselves with some cold beers. Not a bad life here in Pondicherry.

Since the city was checked off the list we decided to check out what the outskirts have to offer in terms of beachy goodness. We rented a scooty for the day and after a sketchy exit through the city and to the gas pump we escaped onto the open road that hugged the Bay of Bengal. It was hot and gorgeous. Palm trees and fields lined the road that connected to more narrow arteries that lead us through friendly villages down to the sands. The majority of beach space it used for fishing boats and nets and loading fish but the uncovered parts yielded soft sand and a very nice place to dip your feet. The currents were too strong for swimming but a good splash was all that was needed for a refreshing cool down. We found what we think was "serenity beach" (but who knows really, all the signs were in Hindi) and settled under a hut with no one else in sight for a lunch of baguettes and cheese and croissants (so French, Anne would be proud) then proceeded to nap in the shade as any respectable Pondicherrian would do between the hours of 2pm and 5pm (the city shuts down).

In many of the town we went through there was government housing of white, slanted roof buildings to replace those destroyed in the tsunami and many of the fishing boats on shore and out on the water were Red Cross, World Vision and Salvation army donations. However is seems that there is little destruction left on the coast and most structures have been rebuilt or moved. The people in the towns were so warm and friendly and a little surprised to see foreigners scooting in their village.

We ended our French interlude with a delicious and oh so romantic dinner at Rendezvous in celebration of my (long ago) birthday that Aaron missed. Calamari and wine and chocolate mousse were all on the list and we out la-la-ed everyone else in the restaurant by far. Now it's time for us to depart on a not so la la local bus to our next stop up the coast. Peace out from Pondy!

Madurai to BOoty!

So Aaron may be faster at blogging than I am but if you want the real story of what went down, you'll just have to wait. The real story goes like this:

We left lovely Varkala for a smelly overnight train to Madurai where we proceeded to get lost at 4:30am then finally found a place that had a room (squat and very sticky toilet and all) that was open (sort of) at 5 in the morning. Of course we show up in one of the holiest cities in India during a 5 day annual pilgrimage festival where thousands of holy men dressed all in black swarm the city and the temples and the train and the streets and everywhere running and hooting and generally being Indian. We spent much of our first day there catching up on some zzz's then figuring how we were going to get out of the city to Ooty... and GAH! India! Screwed me again! After shuffling to the train station to travel agents and back again we settled on buying an overnight bus ticket direct to Ooty. Sweet. Done. But no. That night "rat-ta-tat-tat" on our door. Aaron's in bed reading, I'm in PJ's.

"What?" (to some random guy)
"Problem. No bus."
"What do you mean 'no bus'?"
"Bus have problem. Not going"
He hands me a note for the original travel agent we booked with. blah blah blah.
"Okkkkkkkkaaaay."
"You take train"
"Okkkkkkkkaaaay."

After filling out a few train forms and one emergency request form and agreeing to see buddy first thing in the morning I gave up. Dammit! India! The sun rose and we went to have a chat about this whole train thing seeing as all the trains were totally booked due to the festival.

"So you're going to try to get us on the train to Mallapuram where we will then have to take a 5+ hour local bus up the mountain to Ooty?"
"Yes, this is correct"
"Ok, how much does the train cost?"
"140rps for sleeper class, each person"
"Alright, so will you be giving us back some of the 600rps we gave you for the bus tickets?"
"Ahhhh, well, it is very very hard to get a train ticket. We have to pay many people."
"Yes, I understand this. But it does not cost 600rps."

This goes on.... 100rps later I fold. Gah! India!

Buddy hands me the train ticket. Number 82 and 83 on the wait list....great.

"You're kidding right?"
"No no. You come tonight and I will tell you which berth you are in"
"Fine"

Later that evening, hours before the train leaves we check in. Again.

"S2. Berth 22" He says.
"22 and.....?"
"Only one. Very very hard to get this"
"So you're saying I'm paying you over twice as much as this is supposed to cost for one tiny sleeper that two people are supposed to fit in?"
"Yes very very hard to get"

Dammit! India! Needless to say, it was a very tight overnight.

Madurai didn't have a whole lot to offer besides the breathtaking temple complex that justifies the city itself. We spent a morning wandering the hand carved and painted temples, shrines and courtyards watching the massive bussle going on around the festival happenings. The women were looking their best in beautiful saris with matching bangles of course and the men, well they were looking like men. We jumped right in and made some flower offerings to Ganesh and Shiva, were blessed with tikka lines, posed for pictures, and Aaron even got a blessing from the temple elephant (his first elephant blessing - it went well). We also made an attempt to see the super sound and light show at the City Palace but we arrived to find that it had been closed for maintenance "By Order of the State!". That was a miss and the palace was ugly anyway. Instead we jumped in a rickshaw to take us for a little city tour for an hour - clearly demanding we DID NOT want to go see the water tank. Twenty minutes of struggled peddling later... the freaking water tank! Dammit! India! We didn't even have a chance to look at it before we were kicked off the sidewalk by a police officer - reason unknown. The "tour" didn't show us much else, ended early and failed to drop us at the agreed place so we wandered the busy streets fending off silk and gold vendors until we found our smelly little room.

Getting to Ooty was interesting. The train was smaller than any I've been on so far (only 6 bunks per room) and the bunks were about two thirds the size of regular bunks...then there was the matter of myself and Aaron having to sleep in just one. We arrived in a pit-stop city at 4:30am where we were originally going to get a local bus up the mountains to Ooty (2245m) but when to British women approached us with the idea of splitting the cost of a minibus we jumped in. Ooty was a great little town with a similar feel to Darjeeling. The days were warm and the nights were chhhhiiiiiilllllyyyyy! We got a great room with a lake view just on the outskirts of the town and spent our few days there wandering the markets and streets buying home made cashew nut chocolate and bananas, seeing the "world famous" thread museum where a man from Kerala created lifelike flowers and plants using only thread and doing all the work only by hand with over 60 million meters of thread used (wild!), and also spent a day trekking in the hills and visiting Toda villages where I once again learned: Indian children don't share, only fight - after trying once again to bring joy with Canada balloons. No go. Trekking over the mountains and looking into the valleys provided a very clear explanation as to why my nose was black every night and my throat sore every morning. The pollution was overwhelming and hung in the valley with an L.A smog type presence. The people of Ooty were the ones who gave it it's real charm as they were warm and very welcoming. Although it was a great stop and well worth the squished train ride we left on the miniture train to catch a bus over to the Eaaaaaaasssst Ssssiiiiiddddeeee to ponder cherries next.

The Horror

I woke up this morning, spidey sense tingling: something is terribly terribly wrong. Not only am I all alone in bed, sprawled like I've never sprawled before but somethings askew... somethings not quite right. I walked to the window and pulled the curtain. Looked up.

"WHAT. THE HELL. is THAT?" I asked aloud looking at the sky and pondering these white fluffy things floating around like it was there business to be there. "omg. Is that...a...a...cloud?". Seeing as I haven't seen rain since September or thought about the weather at all for that matter I almost had a heart attack right then and there. "Now now, don't panic" I told myself. "Just a few clouds is all". Well, I was optimistic in my thinking and headed out for breakfast and to the beach where I could still see the clouds looming. ew. A few hours of swimming and relaxing went by. I watched an enormous school? pod? group? party? of dolphins swim by with the occasional leap - there must have been as least 200 (not exaggerating) and with the passing of the dolphins I decided I'd had enough sun. And just in time too. As I walked up the steps of the beach I thought I felt a little wetness, just there, on my arm. I credited the overhead crow for good aim and waddled on. A minute later, another bulls eye? NO! NO! NO! It was a RAINDROP! The sky greyed over and more clouds rolled in and it began to "rain". Well, us Canucks wouldn't consider it rain per se but about 25 drops fell over 10 minutes. That was the big event for the day (you know, besides blogging).

I'm here on the North Cliff of Varkala beach where Mum spent her last days in India. She left me in tears yesterday for a long journey back home but only to be replaced by Cocky the cockroach. Cocky moved on in, uninvited I might add, as soon as Mum left. I had a gentle but stern talk with him about how he wasn't welcome to live with me and I would give him until I returned from dinner to pack up and move on out. He didn't heed the advice and instead relocated from the ceiling to the bathroom where his life almost ended in violence but I managed, after much strategising, to get him out unharmed. Now I'm all alone and missing Mom but not Cocky. Varkala is a hippy-resorty place where yoga, rekki, auyrvaedic healing, healthy eating and an all natural way of life is all the rage. Put this together with the view and it makes for the most expensive spot in India thus far but probably worth hanging out in and healing all my India woes like grubby feet and bad tan lines (sigh). I managed to find a little room at "Santaclause Resort" (yes, it's actually called Santaclause Resort. These Indians are very creative) where a tiny but nice room goes for 500rps. Now I'm waiting like a sitting duck for Aaron to arrive on Thursday. Next stop: La La Land.

Jamie Kelly, always good times

It's stange how you forget how precioius life is until one close to you is taken.

As many of you already know Jamie Kelly was killed in a tragic car accident on December 27, 2006. Jamie was one of the UBC Women's Ultimate team coaches in 2006 and with the lead of his wife Steph, helped take the team to National for the first time in five years. Not only was he one the the funniest, most fun, and downright outragious people I've ever met he was a great friend and a great mentor both on and off the field.

Jamie, where ever you are, you are loved and will always be missed.

Backwaters Back - Alright!

Fort Chocin (or Kochi) was a great stop and we could have easily stayed an extra day or two to just wander and soak up the Keralan culture which oozes from the backwater areas. It wasn't all bells and whistles when we arrived however as the Indian holidays were still going and the place was packed, including all the hotels. After a savage fight with the reception guy at Spencer Home we were shuffled to Oy's home stay where the last room available was up the stairs and through a trapdoor! So strange but we settled, obviously paying way too much for the high season time. Anyway, we spent three days exploring the town making the cultural stops at India's oldest church and other such Portuguese hot spots and by the time we left the kids were back in school and the hords of Indian familys were back to buisness of normal life.

We also hit up Jew Town (yes, it's actually called Jew Town) and the spice market where we got the inside scoop with our super rickshaw driver (or Ferarri driver as they like to call themselves here) who took us to all the wholesale spice producers and even a ginger factory! Kochi is one island among four, just of the mainland so there is lots of fishing, lots of man-made beaches, and lots and lots of garbage (obviously something I just can't get over). After checking out the old-school Chinese fishing nets and the tittery old boats we got somewhat lost in the town and managed to backtrack our way home by the delicious smells of all the great restaurants that are spotted around the touristy area.

People come from all over the world (and India) just to explore the Keralan backwaters, which are a series of islands, lake and canals that run along the South Keralan coast where salty sea water mixes with fresh creating beautiful estuaries that run deep into the mainland. Opting for the ultimate backwater experience we took a seven hour tour encompassing both a canoe and a traditional houseboat. The day started at 10am with one of the worst drivers I've encountered who took us to the canoe portion of the trip. We cruised the narrow canals for an hour or so and stopped at a coconut plantation where we watched felling and participated in the drinking and eating part... Kerala does mean 'land of many coconuts'. Paddling back we ducked under some trees, saw some Kingfisher birds and water snakes and were generally amazed with the diversity of the plant life. We were then shuffled further down the backwaters to where our beautiful houseboat was waiting with lunch. A tasty tasty meal later we took off on some of larger lakes and canals visiting an island super-factory. Tiny mussel type shell creatures are fished for the markets and their shells are left behind in heaps where they are burned to bits then magically turned into calcium with just water (no one could figure it out, but the whole process what really neat) then the calcium is processed to make pills, whitewash, fertilizer and a handful of other stuff.

More relaxing, chai, and a sunset later were were back in the van with the terrible driver who was blearing Backstreet Boys AND Venga Boys (where do they get this stuff??) It was hilarious! (Lifa, we would have rocked that van but my Mom didn't know the words). As Hindus will use just about anything as an excuse for a festival we had to stop on the way back and check out the happenings at the most psychotic blingged out temple I've seen yet. There was crazy music, dance, and dressed up elephants - don't worry I took a video. So great. To add to the chaos there were about a million fireworks which looked more like land mines lined perfectly even along the outskirts of the temple and all the way down the main road for about 3km! ... we wanted to stay for the explosions but our driver wanted to jet seeing as they said the show would start in half an hour which in Indian time is probably about an hour and a half. Ah well, I'm sure I'll catch another firework temple explosion another time...

The next stop is Varkala where we'll relax for Mom's last few days in India...

It's Not Every Day...

Seeing as Mysore was a bust we were eager to get out of Sari-land and into the wild! Well, wild is what we got as we drove into the district of Wayanad, Kerala. Living the high life we hired a driver to take us to Kalpetta, a small town that serves as one of the bases into the Wayanad Wildlife Sanctuary. We tooted along in our little car (think Whitey, only new and working) through the jungles and lush forests of Kerala. I rocked out to my ipod while Mom held on the the "holy-shit" handles and worried about there not being any seat belts (ever). We were doing just fine until we turned a corner and the driver slammed on the breaks to a halt. I was half snoozing and wondered what was going on until Mom pointed out the front windshield of the car to a very very angry elephant charging full speed ahead at our car. As soon as I blinked the driver was reversing like a mad man as fast as the car could go back and behind the corner until the elephant let up. I was in awe, the driver was beading with sweat and Mom was shitting her pants. Moments later a local bus drove by and we shadowed it past the angry 'annah' (that would be how you say elephant in the local dialect) and there standing on the edge of the jungle were two more big annahs and two itty bitty babies! Thrilled to bits I couldn't understand why Mom was so spooked and wanted to tip the driver and extra hundred rupes for bailing us out of there - fast! ... "Well Francie! It's not every day you're charged by an elephant!".

Because 'a watched pot never boils' the day we went into the actually sanctuary we didn't see any angry herds of elephants, or any babies - just one male loner looking rather blue by himself at a watering hole. But it was no waste. We were the first Jeep into the park at 5:45am and we spotted a lot of animals: deer, peacocks, gigantic squirrels, and lots of other critters I don't even know the name of. There are many tigers in the park and we found some fresh tracks but no tiggers attached as they are mainly nocturnal and tend to hide from the noisy Jeeps. Our driver/sudo-guide was great and apres the early morning sanctuary took us to a delicious joint for some quality Indian breakfast and chai. We then headed out to the 3,000 year old Edakkal Caves that overlook almost all of Kerala. We climbed the hill and the steps all the way to the caves which proved the effort worth while. They were beautiful and massive and steaming with hidden history. The caves were created by an earthquake which caused giant boulders to wedge in between large gulley's and this is also how they got their name: "Boulder stuck in between rocks". There were some carvings of "man", "woman", "dog" etc still preserved in the caves which was my first good look at cave art - very prehistoric and stunning.

We continued our tour through the wandering valleys and hills of Wayanad which is by far the most beautiful and lucious place in India I've seen so far. Green of every shade and shape protruded everywhere and we learned of all the agricultural produce that Keralans labor over every day. Things like rubber, coffee, papaya, pineapple, mango, cashews, ginger, tapioca, rice, tea and a million different spices. So delicious. No wonder I'm getting so fat here, the food is just so good. Our last stop took us to one of the three major water falls in the area which like any other place in India it totally stunning and covered in garbage. Either way, it was a great way to end a fantastic experience in Northern Kerala.

The next day we took off to Calicut for an overnight pit stop on one of the most comfortable beds I've had in a loooong time. We celebrated the New Year with a buffet dinner where of course I ate way too much and watching the ball drop on our fellow Goa partiers we rang in 2007. We hit the hay right after that as there was no time to waste - onto Fort Cochin (Kochi) at 6:40am. Hope your New Years celebrations were safe and happy and here's to a great start to 2007.