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Published: April 26th 2010
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We arrived in Bangalore late in the evening and, armed with an address and reservation for a hostel, Mass Residency, jumped in the first autorickshaw. It quickly became clear that this was not going to be a simple as we hoped, even if you have an address. This is partly because of the rapid growth of the city with new areas mushrooming but certainly also by a flawed reference system. Roads are often referred to by their width (?!) with 30 ft road as an example. More conventional perhaps is an attempt at a grid system with 3rd cross, 5th main, Residency Road being the 3rd lane on the fifth street off Residency Road. In an attempt to help us the guest house had sent some additional clues: Area A ,11th cross, Phase II... If the address presented to our 12 yr old driver confused him he certainly did a good job in hiding it. He whizzed us across the Bangalore night traffic likea true pro while we enjoyed the night air- it was certainly cooler in Bangalore and despite the traffic we could smell jasmine in the air - a rarity in such a traffic-heavy city. But it wasn't until
two hours later, having asked half the population of Bangalore where the hotel was (including anyone taking a piss/or pissed on the side of the road), that we finally found our hostel.
The Mass Residency is in fact a small guesthouse run by two brothers brothers who redefined our exerience of Indian hospitality so far. They told us all about the difference between Bollywood (tall heroes with no facial hair but bouffant hairstyles, lots of romantic music, love scenes and dancing) Kollywood (heros shorter, fatter with moustache, lots of fight scenes and dancing) , showed us some films and music and Shuaib, even took us around town a couple of times. We had some great chats strolling around and sharing lunch.
The only bummer was our train ticket - we were still on the waitlist which meant we didn't have a ticket but a few rupees flung around here and there and we squeezed on the train to Chennai. Everyone did their best to accommodate us and after a while we found seats. It was here that we had our first encounter with the Hijra (the eunuchs - dressed as women in gorgeous sari but usually clearly not
female). We had been told about them - how they turn up at businesses and weddings asking for money and how it was bad luck to refuse them (especially since they would strip off and dance or sing lewd songs if refused). We'd been warned that they would target Eric and that it was important that we didn't refuse them money -but actually just one stopped and had a very pleasant chat with Zoe in English - until she/he leant forward and said in such sinister villain tones ' Don't ever say no to us, madame' Zoe replied with a grin 'Oh no madame i'd never say no to you' then the hirja smiled, winked and headed off down the carriage to terrorise some Indians out of their money. The people sat around us were absolutely agog about what had happened 'What did she say?' Did she ask for money?' 'Did you say no?'!! But it was a fun experience and as we later found not our last at all. We are still unclear about the origins of Hirja - we heard variously that they are respected as a spiritual incarnation, are villanous blackmailers or are victims or either nature
or family abuse. . . As always the truth is very subjective but we have to say - one truth is the reputation of our next stop's rickshaw drivers.
Chennai's hard nosed rickshaw divers have an awful reputation for ripping people off. After much haggling, gesturing and disapproval we did convince a driver to take us for one kilometer at a price slightly below a gold bullion. We stayed at the Chandra Park hotel which, while clean and okay, had the slogan 'Redefining Hospitality' which they certainly did - look it up under the thesaurus - you'll find it under 'abuse'.
So after an afternoon stroll it was an easy decision to travel on as we had spent enough time in rubbish strewn cities and it was time for some green scenery.
Just a short bus journey south and conveniently halfway to Pondicherry lies Mamallapuram, once a major port and now a World Heritage Site famous for its stone carvings and temples. We were very impressed by the Five Rathas (huge carved boulders) and the Arjuna's Penance carving. The rest of the small town is pleasant for spending a day or two. In fact we were about to leave
after the next morning when stardom knocked on our door. This guy turned up at our hostel and asked us to join in the shooting of the new Reebok commercial starring Mr M.S. Dhony! As we must have looked slightly at a loss the scout kindly explained that Dhony is not just the captain of the Indian cricket team - he doubles as a half deity. Still it was the promise of a free lunch and 800 hard rupees for an honest day's work that convinced us- the first day's work in a long while!
And so it happened that we stepped into nothing less than a grand old Ambassador car the next day to be taken to the shoot. Zoe was not too impressed with 'wardrobe' as she was kindly asked to put on a pair of bright pink playboy-branded skin tight track bottoms. However the day turned out to be quite relaxed with a lovely group of fellow travellers to chat to and have a laugh with. One of these guys had even starred in a film as a bad guy and was asked to drive a car into another car- he never found out the name of
the film! It was without hesitation that we signed up for a second day on this gravy train!
Then it was onto Pondicherry which we enjoyed but found pretty busy with traffic- it was really hot and by this point Zoe had succumbed to one of our first sicknesses in a couple of years traveling - a chest infection. In the heat (it was 40+) and humidity this was really hard to shift so we decided to redefine our travel plans. Instead of heading to the Sadhana forest project we lined up a project in the somewhat drier north in Uttrakhand. However it was so busy on the trains it was not until two weeks later that we could travel north so we booked our tickets and then headed to the hills for some R&R; Ooty is a huge holiday destination for Indians, we arrived expecting a hill station that would be an idyllic hillside retreat. Ooty in reality is very sprawled out and built up and especially around this time very very busy. The honking never stops and despite many Ooty-plastic free signs plastic and other rubbish is everywhere. The miniature train is a bit of fun and some
visitors definitely make the most of the experience by howling and whistling everytime the little-engine-that-could goes through a tunnel. After a couple of days in Ooty we headed to Coonoor which is a lot quieter if you avoid downtown. Our guesthouse is a former British Officer's club turned YWCA- the rules are no alcohol and no smoking we bet the old chaps would find this positively beastly!
We went to the lovely Sims park and the high field tea plantation to sample some chocolate tea- yummy! Next is our massive train journey from Coimbatore to Jaipur- two days and two nights but we are fighting fit and ready to go again!
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