The Day of Pampering

After the hectic two day train journey, plus a rushed day at Kanyakumari, and then another train journey, I was exhausted. Of one thing I am sure, I do not want this trip to feel like being on a treadmill, “doing” one thing after another. I want space just to be, like someone said we tend to forget we are human beings, and not human doings. So, after extending my stay here for a day, I decided to take it easy, and doing nothing at all if I so wished.

So, I started the day with a languorous breakfast at Kashi Art Cafe (a later post on this). Sat with my laptop, my breakfast, my coffee, and my thoughts for close to two hours. Uploaded all posts previously written.  Then, strolled around the streets of Kochi for quite a bit, buying all essential commodities I just did not get time to buy back in Delhi. Came to room. Rested. Then for another stroll to find out about Kerala massages. Then a leisurely lunch.

And then of all things, I decided to visit a beauty parlour for waxing, so that I could wear all my sleeveless clothes. J Quick shower, then off again to a quaint place called T-Pot. Sat there for the longest time, deciding on the rest of the travel, as I had to get to various people I had to meet. Then dinner, then back to home.

But when I got back home, I realised that though it had been a lazy day, I had managed to see quite a bit of Fort Kochi, partly because it is so small.  I had seen St. Francis church, the Basilica, the Chinese Fishing Nets, and all the interesting stores in Kochi. Tomorrow, I would visit the Jewish Town at leisure.

On Travelling Alone

It is so great to travel alone. I just changed my mind three times in last couple of hours, and what is more, I can implement every one of those options! It is also a function of not booking ahead, and I am glad I did not do so.

When I decided to come north from Kanyakumari all the way to Kochi, and then travel down back to Alleppey and Kollam, I knew I was doubling up. But I thought it was alright: first because I wanted the long train journey through the backwaters, and second I figured that Kochi, Kollam and Thekkady form a triangle, so I would need to travel repeat one arm anyways. However, maps are not just pretty pictures. So,  it turns out that there is the water route, and there is the mountain route, and Kochi sits at the junction of these routes. So, all buses to Thekkady go via Kochi. Even if I went to the backwaters, I would need to come back to Kochi. So for the moment I have decided to ditch the backwaters, and proceed to Thekkady right away. Then decide, whether I want to go back South to Kollam, or skip the backwaters altogether. I do not feel too bad if I do choose to miss them: for one, there are not strictly part of the Western Ghats, and second, backwaters are best experienced on a houseboats, and houseboats are best experienced with a partner. 😉 So, I can always come back.

But I am not thinking so far ahead: for the moment, I have asked Mr. Xavier, who is the host of the homestay, to extend my stay at Kochi by the day, so that I have time to catch my breath. And asked my Uncle to book me into the Sterling Hotel at Thekkady.

The Magical City

Outlook Traveller begins its essay on Kochi, with a quote from… who said that men loved their wives a little less once they had been to this city. Well, I do not know about that. But I do know that when (thanks to the deceitful auto rickshaw driver, who told me that there is no road to Fort Kochi from Ernakulam), I found myself on the ferry from Willington Island to Fort Kochi , right at dusk, the city had me captivated, and I knew I would return to this city again and again. There was something magical about the sound of water cutting against the jetty, the moon up on the lake, buildings lighted up along the shore. It reminded me of Venice, of course, it being ironical that I have seen Venice before Kochi. But Venice felt, and of course, was artificial: atleast the water canals were. The water here is natural and alive. The setting was part of the magic; for me the familiarity of the scene: middle class men and women returning home from work, the shouts of ferrymen, identifiable vegetation, recognisable advertisements all added to the magic.

The city grew on me from the moment I landed there. As I drove through Ernakulam, I was amazed at the cleanliness of the city. The breeze was evident everywhere in the city. The auto drivers went through two bridges, over the lake system. There were reasonably large ships, as also small boats along the shores. The ride over the jetty clinched of course was the highlight of the day. But when  I later entered Fort Kochi, it seemed like a toy town from somewhere. Extremely touristy, luxurious, but at the same time, romantic, discreet, and in good style. I am going to enjoy my stay here.

If I go any further south, I will be in the ocean!!

First day is over. I am dog tired, having just landed in the morning after 32 hour long journey.  I have yet another six hour journey tomorrow. I am tempted not to write anything; I wanted to take refuge behind an email from a friend of mine who said that I should not stress too much about blogging, it may take away from the experience. I know she is right, but I also know that I have not been writing for long, so much so that I am losing faith in my own voice.  So, I strike a compromise. No flowery prose, but atleast a quick bullets about today.

• I was mistaken for a foreigner thrice. Seriously. Though I was wearing a salwar kameez. Maybe because I was wearing it. I guess I was selectively, suitably South Delhi types, dressed Indian. I had fab Indian salwar kameez, with no dupatta, two oxidised bangles, one nose-ring of the cheapest variety. Floaters. No curse, instead a jhola, and my SLR hanging around my neck. I thought I had no trappings of a middle class woman, but it seems all the trappings of a foreigner / NRI in India. Luckily, my nasal voice is suitably Indian, and I was not required to show my passport in the end.
• Conversely, people who recognized me for an Indian ( obviously most of them), simply could not stop staring at me. Indian women, it seems, do not travel alone, especially not with a camera around their neck. I should have expected this; it was similar experience in Kota and Bundi. Yet, it unnerved me slightly on the first day.
• I did not like Kanyakumari at first sight. It was dirty, touristy, and extremely religious. I had to remove my chappals atleast five times today. I could not get used to half naked men in the temple ( in the Kanykumari temple, men are required to remove their shirts). Or the vendors pushily trying to sell beads.
• But in the end, the ocean won my heart. It was green, clean, and simply awesome. Once on the island of Viveknanda Rock Memorial, one could look at from all directions. In the evening, and at night, when I came down for dinner, the sea breeze was refreshing, and made one to stroll for hours.
• But the food was HORRIBLE. Cold, limited choice, and really bad preparation. Why??

In Middle of 32 hour Train Journey

It is quite hard to believe that I am on the train to Kanyakumari. I thought I would spend a month preparing for it, I would blog about those preparations. There would be this grand opening ceremonies of sort. After all, it is not very often that one gets the opportunity to take a month off from work.

But no, it never turned out that way. Just as I was about to leave Delhi, all sorts of things happened. Visitors happened: my mom left just a few days before I left. Till then, I was busy, taking her out for dinners, to doctors, just about evading her friends, and of course generally having a great time with her. Then, till the last moment I was running around to doctors: my thyroid was not under control, so I was doing rounds of endocrinologist.  My upper back was never very strong, but when my lower back started aching, I panicked, and the two week at the physiotherapist got extended to three weeks, then a month. On the very last day, my cousins, whom I had not seen for few years, and who has never been to my house before, dropped by with his wife and friends, on his way to Kullu Manali.  So, Harsh and I just about managed to board our train.

To my hometown. There, I thought I would have time to think about the trip. I was just visiting relatives, and I had to pack up my Dad’s house. But the house turned out to be nightmare. I was amazed at the amount of stuff my father had managed to accumulate. On my last visit, I had already packed six trunks of glass, crockery, and cutlery (yes, six trunks!). Still I found more things, particularly in the lofts. When I thought I had hunted down all trunks, Harsh found one in the kitchen, tucked away under the staircases. Then we discovered termites.  Instead of going on and going on about this, the point is that it turned out be one whirlwind tour, and I did not even have time to think about the trip till now. My hotel at Kanyakumari is booked, and Geetika is probably done my booking for Kochi. That is about it. The rest is up for grabs. Maybe it is best this way.

 

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are.
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky…

As a child, whenever I read this poem, I could not resist the temptation of craning my neck out of the window, and twisting it every way which way, to catch a glimpse of the star laden night sky. I found the sky so fascinating. I was never attracted to astronomy, and instead of searching for the Great Bear and the Little Bear,  I searched for, and found horses, elephants, tigers, and of course phoenixes. I wish I could find these again, but to do so, I will have to find a child’s imagination first.

But there is yet another reason that animals in the sky remain elusive. 16 million people. 1000 sq km. One Never- Ending, Forever- Expanding City. Delhi. When I stick my neck out of my window, I see other buildings reaching upward. I suppose I could go to the terrace, but there seems never to be enough time. The city does not allow it.

During the day, I see buildings, cars, and some more cars. Sometimes months pass before I see the horizon. But there has been a strong desire to make friends with the skies again. To stare upwards, see the fluffy cotton clouds float by, to imagine them to be houses. The desire has been there for a while. But I kept postponing it, time and again. But then, one day, I am not even sure how, I decided to do something. That something got translated into a month in the Western Ghats, away from this city. Luckily, I work in a place, where no one questions such whims.  So February it is to be. This blog, then,  is to record my time there, and all the preparations for it