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Published: June 19th 2006
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the colours of india
dark corridors leading into temples sell all kinds of unexpected objects Well, I’ve caught my first Indian train. Just.
It did of course involve torn trousers, running out of petrol (twice), hitching a lift with a random truck and clambering across railway tracks, all whilst debating the adjective Matrix-esque.
Despite the chaos of leaving the village, it was a very emotional goodbye from Arasavanankadu (and no I never did work out how to pronounce it). I was given a thoughtful and touching farewell from all the kids who put on a show in my honour. I was graced with handfuls of flowers and cards as well as silks and a handmade bag (that I’d been watching being made for the last 6 weeks) from the teachers and family. Of course my backpack was also stuffed full by ‘grandma’ of home made sweets and garden bananas, just in case I got hungry on my journey….
None of it compared with the smiles that I was given though. I’ll miss them.
What I won’t miss from Thiravarur, however is
1. The eye-doctor. He was of course charming. Possibly too charming… inviting me back way too many times to check that my eye was ok. There are only so many times
hanging around
waiting outside the Kumbukonam temple baths you can decline an invitation to come back to someone’s house to meet his wife, talk about Martin Bell, Mark Tully, the BBC, PG Woodehouse, Shakespeare and his handsome engineer sons. Nor was I too pleased to pay another visit to an Indian hospital. Fortunately I can see clearly now the grain has gone.
2. Glamour Beauty Salon - where I popped in to get a trim. Two snips later I had 4 inches lopped of one side, 2 1/2 on the other and was still left with a load of split ends. It’s an interesting look…
3. The crow. For 5 days after taking his portrait (see below) this little bugger consistently swooped up from behind me and dive-bombed me every time I came in or out of the gate. Each day he was getting more forceful and I was getting a bigger headache. On my last day he kindly refrained from his usual behaviour and just eyed me suspiciously. Until I walked under his tree and then … he casually let one go. God only knows what I did to upset him. I think I’m beginning to believe in this karma thing though… which really makes me wonder
buxom
the temples at Kumbokonam are reknown for their small but perfectly formed Chola sculptures. what I did in a former life.
I’m now in Mysore and it’s been great to get to what seems like a throbbing metropolis. I was so surprised to see other Westerners and women out and about that I did my own gawping.
Having been lured by the opulence described in William Dalrymple’s ‘White Mughals’ and entranced by the stories in ‘Climbing Chamundi Hill’, I firmly put Mysore on my map of travels (Hyderabad and Lucknow seemed a bit far North, though tempting). I was not disappointed by the Maharaja’s Palace. The whole city has an air of faded glamour to it, however there is nothing muted about the palace itself. Completed in 1912 it is a combination of stately grandour, sculpted garden, twisting staircases and towering minarets. It’s interior is astounding. You almost miss all the ceramic tile work that adorns the long corridors as your eyes are dazzled by gilded brass columns, turquoise stained glass, silver and wooden doorways and huge floor to ceiling paintings of the different deities.
The most breathtaking part however, has to be the colonnaded main hall, which is on the first floor and has one wall completely cut away allowing
for an unimpeded view through the archways and columns across the landscaped gardens to the lush Chamundi Hill.
I also particularly liked the life-sized plaster of Paris figure of Krishnaraja Wadiyar IV who greets you on the stairs. He reminded me of the wax works at Madame Tussauds - you know the ones you’re not sure at first if they’re American tourists.
What did take away from the whole experience though was being herded through the building like cattle, but at least when you’re crushed in a sea of Indian ladies, you can be guaranteed the sweet smell of jasmine that they all wear in their hair.
Outside you wade through street sellers asking; ‘You like boxes, madam?’ ‘What is your country?’ ‘You like bracelets?’, ‘Madam, I am a magic man’ and the usual stream of begging children.
On my first day, I also managed to take in the Jaganmohan Palace, which is now an art gallery. Previously home to the Maharaja Krishanaraja Wadiyar IV (see above) it now houses an inordinate number of portraits of him - as a young man, as a middle-aged man, as an old man, looking benign, looking severe, but all
with him sporting a glowing turban, a gold-embroidered frock coat and a Dastardly style moustache. It also houses a range of antique games and musical instruments (on which the guard gave me a short and personal demo).
After mooching about the city looking haggling over silks and jewelery I grabbed a rickshaw and headed for my own taste of opulence. I knew that just outside the city there was another of the Maharaja’s Palaces. Only this one’s been converted into a luxury hotel, where I could sip cool drinks by the poolside. :o). I’m not in Kansas anymore.
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Nick/Rachel : Hope you’re both having as much fun as you can after exams. You deserve it (I think). Though I'm not sure I'd think Indonesia's that much fun at the moment.
Jag : good to hear that you’re settling into the job. :o)
Other people who’ve sent emails : I’ve seen there are a few, but replies are hard due to ‘unstable access’. So great to get your news - what seems banal your end is a little bit of sanity here.
CJ : Hope all good in Marakesh .We’ll speak soon about Goa :o).
China/Jesse : Did you go to All Stars? V jealous - Jesse, keep an eye out for my friend Kerry (she punches hard ;o)
Kerry : Hope you’re still training - keep an eye out for my friend Jesse. Oh, and I never did get to chat to you properly at my 'leaving do', which was a huge shame..
All : Please keep letting me know the footie scores. I’m completely out of the loop here.
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Brett
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Football summary
Ronaldo - Plump, Owen - Limp Zidane - Past it, Hargreaves - Never Had it Argentina - Breathtaking, England - Dull