Sixth Week in India - Mountains, Temples & Palaces

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The bus ride from Munnar, Kerala, in the Cardamom Hills to Madurai, Tamil Nadu on the hot Deccan Plateau is seven hours of bone-jarring, twisting roads. It is also a cultural change from the mild, easy-going Keraleans to the noisy, bustling, heavily populated southern India that was never conquered by the invading Moghuls from the north.
Once down on the plains the roads staightened out and the temperature went up. We exchanged our decrepit country bus for a fast gleaming luxury model for the last two hours of the trip to Madurai. We swept through green fields, dry hills and a surprising number of brick factories as Bollywood music belted from the bus speakers and lovely, pudgy Indians swayed on the video screen.
Madurai is the home of the Sri Meenakshi Temple, one of India's largest and most famous Hindu temples. The scale of the temple is simply awesome: it is really a city within a city with parts of the temple dating back some 2000 years. Their are four main tapered stone towers some 10 - 12 storeys high as well as at least six smaller towers. Every exterior square inch of the towers is a riot of painted carvings. There are (sit down for a moment) an estimated 33 million stone carvings within the temple complex. The exterior carvings are brightly painted every ten years.
We chose a hotel that had a roof-top balcony that directly over-looked the temple and stood spell-bound that first evening as the sun set over the the amazing panorama. Visiting the temple after dark, we left our shoes at the gate and joined the streams of pilgrims making their way from shrine to shrine, bowing, getting on hands and knees, making offerings and daubing their foreheads with reds and white paint. Many people were crying as they passed us. We got lost and a little claustrophobic.
Back out on the street the tourist hussle and hassle began as we were asked to buy postcards, go to other temples, have a shirt or dress tailored, buy garlands of flowers, etc, etc and etc.
The next day we went back to the temple and visited the art museum and the 'Hall of One Thousand Pillars' which were carved with some of the above-mentioned millions of carvings.
We hadn't originally included Madurai on our agenda but had made adjustments to go there as we realized it simply couldn't be missed. There are so many places like this in India that a mere three months cannot do justice to the western half of the country we plan to visit.
Tamil Nadu is the home of the masala dosa - a thin rice pancake, rolled and stuffed with mashed potato, onion and spices to suit the time of day as this is breakfast, lunch or supper. We had a roof-top supper of dosa and beer on our last before boarding the overnight train to Ooty, the queen of the old British hill stations in the Nilgiri Hills at an elevation of some 7000. We didn't really want to go to Ooty but we wanted to take the toy steam train that chugs up the mountain.
Our train reservation from Madurai was last minute and the best seats were Second Class - the lowest of the low. We arrived at the station early and as soon as the empty train arrived at the platform we boarded and each commandeered one of the broad luggage racks that over-look the seats. With our packs as pillows we were able to stretch out on the wooden slats and get a bit of sleep as the train chugged through the night. We transferred trains at 5:00am and arrived at the Nilgiri Hills RR station where the steam train originates at 6:45 am.
Our compartment in the four car train had doors at both sides and bench seats holding four or five facing fore and aft. A newly-wed Indian couple and five young women from England and the US shared our compartment. The engine was attached at the rear of he train and pushed us up the mountain - good thing as the black clouds of coal smoke belching from it would have killed us if it had been at the front. We chugged up the steep grade over trestles and through tunnels for five hours. The train stopped four times to take on water and oil the engine at little red-tiled roof stations with wide platforms, tea stalls and chattering monkeys swinging down to beg.
After a few false starts looking for accomodation in Ooty we found ourselves at the hunting lodge of Fernhill Palace - the summer Palace of the Maharaja of Mysore. The experience was a budget breaker but we were treated to a tour of the rambling, red-stuccoed, red-tiled roof palace which was under refurbishment and a glimpse into the opulent life of the fabulously wealthy Maharaja.
We took the bus to Mysore the next day. More incredible views while bouncing down the mountains on atrocious roads. Leaving Tamil Nadu and across the dry hills and green fields of the Karnataka countryside; through small towns thronging with people. We stopped for tea at a small place that had a dozen tables of inch thick dark green marble some 30 inches by 60 inches...dark green with envy!
Mysore is a great city to spend a few days and we did so. The Fernhill Summer Palace is an outhouse compared to the incredible Maharaja Palace in Mysore. We took a tour and were overwhelmed. The outside is all domes, arches and spires in 'Indo-Saracenic' style. Inside you find teak carvings, inlaid ivory, stone scultures, frescoes, pillars and gold thrones encrusted with jewels.
Another day we went to Somnathpur, a Hoysala temple an hours' drive east of town. Through the gently rolling countryside of cane fields, coconuts palms and rice paddies. Villagers would smile and wave excitedly when they saw us. (We often find ourselves hoping that Canadians would be at least half as friendly and hospitable to visiting Indians as they were to us.) We stopped at a brick yard and took photos of bricks being made two at a time. Piles of straw and a pile of clay. Mix it up and make bricks. Leave them in the sun to dry. When there are 150,000 (really), you make a tall hollow structure of the dried bricks with strategic draft holes, fill it with wood and set it on fire. A very simple operation with not a roof or an office or a fence just in a field by the side of the road.
As for the Hoysala temple, we are completely out of superlatives for this 800 year-old structure of domes covered with intricate stone carvings of all the Hindu gods. We'll try to post some photos of this temple and the one in Madurai soon.
We are leaving in a few hours for the long trip north to Rajastan. Three of the next four nights will be on the train. Gotta run...best to all.

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