The Western Ghats

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On Johnson's recommendation, we had arranged to go up into the mountain range that forms the backbone of Southern India.

We needed to catch a train from Ernakulam station, and we were planning to catch the same train as an Irish couple who were also going to the same farm as us, and were catching the train from Allepey. I checked with the tourist office in Fort Kochi about getting to Ernakulam station, and she told me the bus from Fort Kochi went to the station.

So next morning (Thursday), we went off to the bus stand. When I asked the conducter for 2 tickets to Ernakulam station, he replied ... 'which station. There are two!'. Thanks, Mrs Tourist Office, for being so helpful!. I professed I didn't know, so the conducter asked where we were travelling to. 'Callicut'. "OK, you want Ernakulam Town. I'll tell you when we get there'. So we sat back and enjoyed the ride. But it went on and on and on. I started to worry; we had allowed plenty of time, but the sands were running out. We eventually arrived at the stop nearest the station, with 10 minutes to spare before the train was due to depart - but we hadn't got tickets yet. We half walked, half ran, carrying our heavy backpacks, and arrived at the station - to see a long queue for tickets. While I joined the queue, Baska went off to find out which platform we needed. I hadn't moved far, before she returned looking glum. "the next train for Callicut is 11 am!". "No", I said, "it is 9:20". "That one leaves from Ernakulam Junction, the other station - the one we passed on the bus about half an hour ago!"

Thanks, too, Mr Indian Bus Conducter! This is so typically Indian. They hate to disappoint you by confessing they don't know the answer, so they just make one up! All the time, and we keep on falling for it!

Never mind, we're not on any fixed schedule. I bought the tickets (less than £1 for 2 people for what was scheduled to be a 4 1/2 hour journey!), and we went to a restaurant over the road for yet another superb Indian breakfast of dosa, vadai etc. Then back to the station to people watch while we waited for our train.

It proved to be the usual experience of travelling 2nd class in India - noisy, colourful, never a moments peace, but never a moments boredom either. And as the journey actually took 6 hours, just as well. Once at Callicut, we grabbed a rickshaw to the bus stand, and waited for the bus to Mananthavady. It came fairly soon, and we managed to fight our way on, taking no prisoners - the only way to do it! We actually got the 2 seats at the back, with room for our backpacks. And a 3 hour journey up into the cool swwet air of the Ghats. I guess it would have been hair-raising if it hadn't got dark before we hit the steep climbs and the never ending series og hairpin bends; it was pretty scary anyway, but you have to hand it to these Indian bus drivers - they are bloody impressive, but completely without fear, and clearly no real sense of self-preservation!

After three hours, we got out at Mananthavady, and called Varnams, our next stay. They arranged for a rickshaw to come and pick us up, and 3/4 hour later we were in this idyllic farmhouse, with the most delightful family imaginable, and in our first real homestay.

More about it next time.

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