There's 6 of us travelling to India. It's Terry, Janice, Deborah, Lisa and myself, Anna, with one solo male traveller, named Doug, the brave soul that he is. Thus the name of our site. 5 Women and a Dug. Our travels commence Jan 12th in New Delhi and continue through many diverse regions throughout the country. Lisa and Anna travel for 3 weeks where the remaining 4 continue on until early to mid March.
We invite you to follow along and post your comments. We enjoy reading them as much as you look forward to our updates.
Notes from a Dug: The Beaches of Kovalam End of journey. Yesterday saw Deb and Janice leave the magic of our final Indian residence, the Surya Samudra in Kovalam. Situated about 100 feet up a rock face, our side by side cabins look out over the never-ending breakers that stretch forever to the West. This thirty cabin property on about 30 ocean front acres is yet another retreat from the never-ending waves of people and the forever mysteries of micro-commerce and subsistence living that form the ever-undulating backbone of this country. Much like the departure of Lisa & Anna, there is the sadness of separation that each leaving of our friends brings to both Terry and me. We are now the last of the original six still in India. With only another seven days left, we
... read moreNotes from a Dug: Munnar to Kochi to Backwaters We enter Day 2 of the India General Strike still sitting 6500 feet above sea level. Terry and Janice sign up for a mini-trek through parts of the tea plantation into which our hotel has been nestled. Deb is applying more Ayurvedic goop on to the pinched nerve in her foot. It seems to work like a hot damn. Mr. Dug, following the advice of the on-staff Ayurvedic doctor, gives his ankle a break and submits his head for an Ayurvedic massage. For thirty minutes he gets penetrating oil rubbed, poked, slapped and whapped into his skull. He leaves with his head doing a rag-doll flop from side to side and the inner workings of his brain at a full stop. Terry, in the meantime, is experiencing
... read moreNotes from a Dug: Periyar & Half Way through Munnar Welcome to the Communist state of Kerala. A 48 hour nation-wide strike has been called and in this country of 1.2 billion people only the 2% of the population that live in Kerala will be paying any attention. However, there are implications for us. No public or private transportation will be allowed during this time. That means we will need to condense two days of our program into one. It also means we can only stay in our Periyar hotel for one night as we must be at our next location before the midnight witching hour when the strike begins. Hmm? Where will the three women and a Dug stay? We have been told we cannot check into our destination hotel one day early as it
... read moreNotes from a Dug: Madurai We check into our accommodation in Madurai only to discover we are checking into the former residence of the local British Club. Re-tuned and re-jigged about five years ago, each suite comes with its own plunge pool. Of varying sizes, these granite mini-pools are about twelve feet long and eight feet wide. Some are accessed from an over-sized sliding glass door that separates the outdoor pool from the main living space (ours). Some are part of a huge over-sized bathroom area (Janice & Deb's). How's the picture so far? On first blush it seems idyllic. However, for the first time on our trip we notice an oversupply of mosquitoes. They, too, like plunge pools. In our case, we can shut the door. In Deb & Janice's case, if they want to
... read moreNotes from a Dug: Pondicherry - Chidambaram - Kumbakonam - Tanjore - Trichy - Madurai Man, have we been on the move! Two days ago we were to have left Pondicherry in the early AM but the three chicklets kinda liked the town and decided we could squeeze in the day's itinerary and still spend half a day in Pondicherry's French Quarter. The Dug liked that idea as well. Let's find that French Quarter and get immersed. Vinkie, our driving man dropped us in what he said was the French Quarter. It was more like the French Centime, only a fraction of the quarter. I don't think the Vinkieman knows the mystique of the phrase. Mind you, neither does anyone else in India. The French Quarter to the three women meant shopping (wouldn't ya know it,
... read moreNotes from a Dug: Pondicherry The four grumpies arrive in the once French colony of Pondicherry. We're ready to flay, keelhaul and gut the next guide. Aw, and he seems such a nice, innocent, young man. A lamb to the slaughter. But he turns out to have spent three years studying for a degree in tourism. His English is decent. He knows how to present a story. He passes the audition. Fortunately for us and even more so for him, there are no temples of note here. Instead we get transported to the weirdest place on the planet. Weird that is unless you live on the Starship Enterprise or on a commune. I've been too long on a meat and potatoes diet to make sense of the place called Auroville. Conceived by a 90 year old
... read moreNotes From A Dug: Chennai to Mahabalipuram On this part of the trip, the Three Women and a Dug found their collective voices and it involved a lot of barking. Leaving Chennai, our first stop on the road to Mahabalipuram was at the temples of Kanchipuram. Our guide for this stop was a Brahmin priest who was also a part-time tour guide. If anyone could present a context to the stream of temples we have been seeing, it should be this boy. Unfortunately, he was also a part-time English speaker. The only context he could provide was, "This is Lord Shiva. This is his wife, Parvati. This is the cow jumping over the moon." In other words, we learned nothing. However, what we did learn, once again, (remember the priests at Pushkar that had us recite
... read moreNotes from a Dug: Chennai Everybody, grab a bag. In fact, grab all your bags. We're joining the thousands that are doing the same thing on board the Shatabdi Express train into Chennai Central Station. It's a mix of order and gong show. We have no idea how our local tour rep is going to find us until we see two men running alongside the slow moving train, tapping on our window and holding our names on a placard. It's like winning the lottery, finding your white tourists in a sea of brown. They're more excited than we are at the sense of our salvation (and, apparently, theirs as well). In a city of 9 million, most of whom seem to be at the train station, many of them sleeping inside on the granite floors or
... read moreNotes From A Dug: Mysore More often than not on this trip, where we find ourselves staying has had enchantment written in big bold letters. Our stay in Mysore was a calming hideaway just a breath away from town. A small stream ran past the restaurant and, at dinner time, the geese and frogs would compete for our attention. Imagine "Bridge Over Troubled Water" croaked out and honked over by reptiles and feathers. On occasion, the geese seemed to strut into the kitchen oblivious to their potential fate. I'm not sure, with the fantastic use of spices here, if my spinach butter chicken was really euphemistic advertising. At $3.50 for a main course, though, you didn't hear me squawking. Each of our ground floor rooms came with outdoor showers and, in our case, the upstairs guests
... read moreNotes from a Dug: Goodbye Goa; Hello India Enough of the bliss kingdom known as the Leela Inn. It was time for the three Moms and a Dug to get back to India. Where we stayed in Goa was so unlike any of our previous stays that we did forget the land on which most Indians walk is nowhere near where we were being pampered. Our transfer driver to the airport was all testosterone and jet fuel. The pampering was over. The airport procedures were ours to decipher. The only remaining bliss to be found was in the face of a white-skinned monk, potentially a left-over Hari Krishna from a 1960's US airport. The pilot had difficulty with both the take-off and the landing. The guy beside me threw up into an improvised plastic magazine bag.
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