Ahh, the smiling south!!!

Indians love to dance. It was the third time it had happened on this trip - a van by the side of the road, pumping out the Hindi pop music, with about 50 Indians beside it, dancing away.......the first two times, I had to be dragged into the crowd, but here in Hampi, I knew better, and with Niall, went straight into the circle and gave them 2 minutes of our best moves, before strolling away as legends. My girlfriend got a picture that captured the moment perfectly - me and Niall, limbs pointed out in all directions, surrounded by about 50 Indians, each one wearing a brilliant smile, highlighted by a perfect set of white teeth. I think this may be when I started to love India.

Or maybe it's just that Hampi is an easy place to love. The former capital of the Vijayanagara Empire is a sprawling complex of ruins, set in an amazing boulder strewn landscape, of which I can only compare to Cappadocia in Turkey. Arriving from Goa on the tourist bus, we spent two nights in the bazaar area, close to the major ruins, before heading across the river for three nights of blissful relaxation. Not I needed much more after Goa. But Hampi has a way with people, and while we didn't get round to seeing all the sights (who cares), it was perhaps my most enjoyable five days in India - highlights include the monkey temple, with views over the area, an epic moped trip to villages where children would chase us, and some great rock jumping at a nearby resevoir. Even the one arguement I had, on the cross-river boat with a South African twice the size of me, went well.

The guy had dug his elbows into my ribs to stop me making space for other people getting on the boat. An arguement followed, with him eventually saying "Ah whadda you know, you're Irish".

"Yeah mate, and there's three of us here," a voice came out of nowhere, to reveal two heroic paddy's backing me right up. Brilliant!

Hampi is a really popular destination, but is so vast, it's never hard to escape the crowds. If you're in southern India, please do not miss it, actually I'd say if you're anywhere in India, don't miss it.

Soon though, it was time to go. There's a Woody Allen film where he says "Being in a relationship is like being a shark, you gotta keep moving forward". The same can be said of travelling - much as we could have stayed (and I could have stayed weeks), the nature of our existance in India drove us on.

Next stop was Mysore, the most easy-going Indian city I've been in - with it's one attraction being the magnificant palace, built by those scoundrals, the British! Luckily, our visit coincided with the lighting of 27,000 lightbulbs attached to the palace - see the picture; the palace kind of disappears......There's not much else to be said.

So we headed to the hills, to the hill station of Ooty, another location built by the British, whose understandable need to escape the summer heat of the southern Indian plains drove them to higher altitudes, the Western Ghats providing the ideal envirement for a summer retreat. We arrived out of season, and so negotiated bargain prices for some quality rooms in a Raj-era hotel. Ooty itself is a busy, bustling town, but driving out into the surrounding hills was a highlight. But the place couldn't hold us for long - and one of the main reasons for coming, was to leave.......

Because the British built a railway line all the way to Ooty, a line still in use today - the steam engine train carries people (mainly tourists) to and from Ooty once a day, and the ride is truly spectacular, sweeping around mountain sides, across bridges, through tunnels, before making it back to the Indian plains.

Our next stop was another hill station, Munnar, across the border in Kerala, surrounded by some of the highest tea plantations in the world, rolling hills of turtle-shell patterns of lush green, and with a crisp mountain air to match. In Munnar, there was a point just above the town, where you could look across and sea, from left to right, a mosque, a church, and a Hindu temple. I was surprised at the amount of Christians in Kerala - talking to Indians named 'Francis', and eating beef curry.

Kerala's socialist government has turned it into one of India's success stories, a state with 100% literacy, and second most prosperous after Goa. The road from Munnar to the capital, Kochi, revealed this prosperity time and again, as we passed large houses, mansions even, on a superior highway. Kochi is quite the tourist hot-spot, it's harbour famous for the Chinese fishing nets seen in the picture. However, a short drive out of town, and you're back in the village again, being chased by children, again.

Generally, conversations with Indians are well rehearsed affairs, the line of questioning rarely altering. "What is your good name?" "Your country sir? Profession? Married? Income?". Most don't seem to have a clue about Ireland. "Ah, Holland...", they'll answer, sometimes "Ah, Thailand....", or even "Excuse me, what island?". But occassionally, they'll surprise you. In Lahore, an old guy told me "All Pakistani people love Ireland - because Lord Mountbatton died there!"

Well in Kochi, it happened again. "Your country sir?" an old Christian guy asked. On hearing my answer, he beamed "Ah, De Valera, great man!". I said something in agreement, before he went on....."But what we Christians here in Kerala can't understand is, why, in the 21st century, can the Protestants and Catholics of Northern Ireland not get along?" I shook my head sadly, patted his back, and said "I know, I know". Brilliant!

THE thing to do in Kerala is rent a house-boat, and go cruising up and down the backwaters. These canals are lined with coconut palms and little fishing villages. However, for me, it was a bit much - I mean the luxory! You gotta see these house-boats - sitting room, kitchen (with cook of course!), showers, everything you need. Somehow I had gone from chappatis and dhal in my tent in northern Pakistan, to this! It was crazy! No doubt, it's a beautiful area (see pictures), but really, I would have liked to have done this 30 years ago, in a canoe. Now THAT would have been something.

Last stop for my girlfriend was Varkala, Kerala's hang-out beach, but more low-key than those of Goa. Expensive restauraunts with crap service, great waves, friendly people, eh, nothing really interesting to write about it though - we said our good-byes (again) at Trivandrum airport, and the next day, me and Niall continued on down to Kanyakumari, the very southern tip of India.

It's the weirdest place I've been in this country - a small town, with people selling crappy souviniers by the sea. We stayed in the Youth Hostel, and had a 6-bed dorm to ourselves - just us and the mosqutios! It was empty! Really weird place, again, nothing much to say. Next was Madurai, home to the famous, and fabulous, Sri Meenakshri Sundareswarar Temple. It's a colourful temple, in a pretty rotten city, which brought to mind the noise and pollution of those horrific northern cities, Agra, Ahemdabad, and Indore.

We travelled overnight to Chennai in unreserved class, which meant we got no sleep at all, as we had to sit cross-legged for 8 hours on a bench meant for three, but sitting four people. People were sleeping on the luggage rack it was so crowded. One bright note though - the guy to my left had a glass-eye, his right one. For the whole night, I thought he was awake, and every so often would smile and wiggle my head at him. Finally we copped it. Apart from that it was a horrible night.

We got our tickets for the ferry to Port Blair, and made for Mamallapuram, a temple town 2 hours south of Chennai - famous for the Shore Temple, and its rock carving. It was mildly affected by the tsunami, and was full of tourists. 3 days was enough, before we decided to spend our last couple of days on the mainland at Tirumala, the world's busiest pilgrimage centre - attracting more devotees than Rome, Jerusalem or even Mecca, Hindis queue to appear before an incarnation of Lord Vishnu, who will grant them a wish. We tried to get in, but with hours of queuing to do, gave up, and after a stroll around, left it.

If the above sounds too breezy, it's not my fault. We visited most of the 'guide-book' places of southern India, and I'll say this - southern India lacks real adventure. But the real attraction of the south is not the temples, beaches, landscapes or cities. No, the star of the show is the people. Indians love to smile. And all it takes is a wiggle of the head, or a raising of the eye-brows, to make them do so. A parade of classic characters has passed us this last month, people I can't explain in writing, or in photos.

And so, tomorrow I board the ferry to the Andaman Islands, a destination I've been dreaming about for quite a while. It's a 3/4 day journey, and I'll have a full report when I've finished there. In the meantime, see y'all!!!

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