Tattoos, coffee beans, and bus crashes.

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Nameste!

It has been a while since I have blogged and lots of happened, I have been in a bus crash, got a tattoo and been into the mountains.

Currently I am back in the state of Karnataka. I am on the coast near Gokarana, at Cudle and Om Beach. It is all very beautiful and very laid back, not too many people,and perfect weather. The accomodation is rudimentaray, but reflected in the low price. A room is 100 rupees (about $2.95). The bathroom is just a concrete room and it is strictly buckets of cold water. I am right on the beach and wake to the sound of the waves every morning.

But, I need to start where I left off on the last blog! Since then I have been to Allepy, Fort Cochin and the Coorg region in the hill station area. I caught the ferry to Allepy, intending to get off at the Ashram. However, as I got closer and closer to it, I got a really strong feeling to stay on the ferry. I did, as India has a way of heighteing the senses enough to deserve acknowledging them. I am glad I did! At Allepy I met 3 crazy, beautiful, intelligent and fun Canadian women who are travelling together for a huge trip starting with 4 months in India before they move on to South East Asia. We struck up a friendship and as we were all heading to Fort Cochin we decided to travel there together. I am so glad I did. After spending almost all of my trip alone it is great to travel with some company for the very last bit. Although I have chuckled to myself for the last few months, you tend not to laugh out loud on your own. Being with the Canandians has been a mobile girl party and hilarious, I have found myself crying with laughter more then once! It is also a great way to be easing myself back into the land of company and so hopefully it will not be so much of a shock when I am sitting at my desk back at work in a few short weeks being required to talk to people and make sense (Augghhhh!).

Fort Cochin, which is in Kerala, is one of the most beautiful towns I have stayed in. It is an old port and is reached by ferry from the mainland. The Ferry was just like an Indian bus, except for the fact it travelled over sea instead of potholed and dusty roads. Packed in like sardines, with a huge crush to get on and off (no mean feat with a backpack on) it was nevertheless, a beautiful approach to Cochin. The town is very pretty with Kerelan architectue and lush vegetation. It has on old Jewish quarter, called, not unremarkably, Jew Town. Here there are all sorts of traders including a ginger factory. Seeing the ginger spread out in an ancient courtyard to dry was amazing, as it glistened white and sugary in the hot Indian sun. The girls and I hired pushbikes to ride around the town, which was a great way to get around, and extremly funny at intersections when we had to navigate around auto rickshaws, motorcycles, pedestrians, cows and goats. My bike was painted purple and emblazoned with the brand "Miss India"! At Cochin, the beauty of travelling with others soon became apparent to me, as we could share our costs. We hired out the whole top floor of a homestay and had gorgeous lodgings, complete with forest green marble floors and a kitchen which was such a bonus after not being able to prepare food for so long. We bought some seafood at the fish market and paid a restaurant to cook it for us (not enough facilities in our kitchen) but made salads and salsa to accompany it. I also managed to buy beer, so we had a feast in our little house.

I also got a tattoo in Fort Cochin! Anyone reading this who is wanting to get coloured in India, I highly recommend this place. It is a called the Tattoos Parlour (that old adding the unceccessary "s" to a word that you find throughout India i.e "footwears, hardwears etc) and you only have to ask around to be dircted to it. The tattooist is also a graphic artist and very lovely. It was all clean and sterile and he used a new needle which was unwrapped in front of me. All his equipement is bought in Britan. I am so happy to have gotten a new tattoo in India. A permanant reminder of some of the most incredible months of my life (so far!), and an acknowledgment of the admiration and love I have for my partner and best friend JV.

From Cochin the girls were heading up to the hill station area. I had wanted to go there, but as a solo budget traveller it was well out of my financial reach. However, with the cost shared 4 ways it was achievable. The trip to the Coorg region required a bus, train and jeep ride. We stayed in gorgeous accomodation in a working coffee plantation, high in the cool hills of southern India. Even though we were four, we still could only afford to bunk into 2 single rooms, sleeping top and tail on a skinny single bed! We went on a trek, which I managed to do in my 100 rupee Indian leather toe thongs, as I sent all my warm clothes, including walking shoes, home way back in Varanassi. We walked up a huge peak, the highest in the area, and the view was truly astonishing. As far as the horizon we could see mountains, blue and magical in the stange layered and colured haze, a natural phenomenan created by the layers of hot and cold air.To get there we walked through lush jungle, cool and dark, and then as we got higher, grasslands made mobile by a welcoming cool breeze. We made a sad departure from the hill station after two days to being the epic journey to Gokarna, on the coast. We caught a jeep from the station to the nearest town with a bus station, Madikeri. The jeep collected us at 5.45 am. It was a cold and windy ride down the mountain, but glorious in the dawn. Along the way a light kept on coming on, on the dashboard of the jeep. The drivers answer to this was to just bang hard with a closed fist until it went off! We made it to the bus station, and with time to buy snacks and have a quick chai, we were again on our way. The bus was a typical Indian communter bus, packed to the rafters and rickety as hell. For most of the journey it felt like it had squre wheels as it bounced and rattled over potholed and half made mountain roads. As it was the only bus, it was also the school bus, and beautiful scrubbed childred stood in the aisles, smiling shyly at us with extrodinary velvet brown eyes. The whole 5 hours the driver sat on his extremely loud airhorn. By the time we got to Mangalore, for a train to the coast, we were deafened, and shaken like martinis. Unfortunatly the driver neglected to use his horn when he most needed it, and in the madness of the Mangalore traffic drove into a car, stoving in the side. All hell broke loose, and the driver, the bus driver, the bus conducter and a traffic policeman were all embroiled in a loud and feisy arguement. We realised that we were not going to go anywhere for a while, and along with half the other passangers on the bus, got off after deciding to make our way to the bus station via alternative means of transport. As we were alighting off the bus, the bus driver got back on, deciding that he was going to leave the scene of the crime despite the arguement still in full creshendo. 3 of us made it off the bus, but the fourth, Emily, stood in the doorway as the bus took off, watching us, the only people she knew in India, quikly receding into the distance! She made the heroic and split second decision to jump, fully loaded with pack. She made is safely, if not a little rattled!

We arrived in Gokarna, to be assisted by a fellow Australian, who was also on the same train, who has been coming to Gokarna for 10 years. As it was night time, we had decided to stay the first night in Gokarna, as it is not really possible or safe to get to the beaches at night. Said Australian took us to a restaurant whichmiracle of miracles has almost cold beer! We sat and toasted the new Australian government and felt pretty happy with life.

It is very beautiful here. Last night as we were walking back from Om beach in the evening, all along the shoreline crabs had dug holes, sending out circular shapes in the sand like stars. They glowed like a constellation on the shiny wet sand, made pink by the setting sun.

I now only have about 5 days left in India. I am heading to Palolem beach tomorrow with the Canadians, as one of them is turning 30 and wants to party. I will board the train for the long journey to Mumbi, and my flight home the day after, with a hangover that will kill a small boy. A fine way to bid a very fond farewell to fabulous India.

I will blog once more before I head home, but in the meantime my friends, put the beers on ice.

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