Mike on India

When we were planning this trip, a few engineers I worked with who had visited here gave their view on India. Simply put, “If you like garbage and beggars, you’ll love India”. Well, they were right and wrong. There were no more beggars in evidence than we've seen elsewhere in Asia. Certainly, a large touch of tunnel vision is required to look past that and enjoy other parts of the India adventure.

Railroad  Museum in Mysore

It didn’t help that our first experience here was to be ripped off by a bogus cab driver. It also didn’t help that our first hotel was a business hotel with nothing in the way of tourist attraction nearby. Now that I mention it, the second, near Liz’s ashram was no better. Three days with no internet and nothing to see outside but a run down village with, yes, heaps of garbage lining the road. This is a recurring theme in many of the cities we visited. Most people here think nothing of discarding whatever isn’t wanted wherever they happen to be. The larger the concentration of people, the larger the windrows of trash and discarded building materials of all types. Ugly.

Construction is everywhere. Growth rate is falling from 7% to 6.9%.

Signs claiming Plastic Free Town point to how plastic waste does not decompose.
Any waste that does not decompose or recycle is a threat.  

Litter is chronic. Where is Lady Bird when you need her?

Gift shop in Wayanad on the way to a scenic lookout point

Then Liz’s friend Shashi took us in hand. Overnight we had a personal driver at a reasonable price and an itinerary. We would leave the sweltering lowlands and luxuriate in the cool mountain air of the Western Ghats. First stop, Mysore.

Yogesh our driver and his car, a Tata diesel

Mysore is a pretty good size city, and the capitol city of various dynasties starting in 1399. A major attraction is the Maharaja’s palace, rebuilt in 1912 after a disastrous fire destroyed the original in 1897 - at a cost of 4.5 million rupees. The modern equivalent cost would be well into the tens, perhaps hundreds, of millions of dollars. Extravagant isn’t the word. The place is even electrified and has elevators. Again, I can’t show you any of it. “No Cameras Allowed In Palace!” They were allowed on the grounds however, and in the various temples adorning the spacious lawns and courts. Here is where we got into trouble with our driver. We took the short walk from our hotel to the palace, toured the grounds in the morning, and followed the example of a family we noticed scaling a back fence, nearer our hotel than the entrance. Then we promptly got lost, found a restaurant and had lunch. We grabbed a passing tuk-tuk and he deposited us at the hotel. Then we got a frantic phone call from Shashi. Yogesh, our driver, had been waiting for us at the palace entrance for the past two hours! By the way, Yogesh’s English is rudimentary at best. We’ve had some interesting three-way conversations on the phone with Shashi and Yogesh. Only in the modern world can your interpreter be a hundred miles away.

Maharaja's Palace at Mysore

Close up of section of Palace

　

Tigers with Brass Teeth guard Palace 

Women and Children climbing Gate into Palace at Mysore.
Mike and I decided to save steps and climb out.

Just to screw up the chronology, the previous afternoon, we visited yet another temple, Keshava by name. I finally got a look at some of the famous Hindu erotic carvings. It turns out the people of the area were not as licentious as the carvings would indicate. Quite the opposite, they were so reticent about sex that the priests decided to intervene and give the young people some instruction, not to mention incentive to attend services. We also caught the grave of Tipu, last independent Maharajah in India. He fought the British to a standstill until 1799.

Sex Ed. in Indian Temple

We finished up our Mysore experience with a visit to the Brindavan Gardens. Yet another spectacular flower garden, with an evening fountain and pretty lights show, to Indian popular music. Not the Bellagio in Las Vegas, but nice enough.

                         

On to Ooty. This is the biggest tourist destination for Bangalore natives who want to beat the heat this time of year. For the life of me, I do not know why. Described in glowing terms in “Lonely Planet”, it lives up to none of the hype. Grubby would be a charitable description. Trash everywhere, with makeshift stands on every square foot of roadside, none of them with any sort of architectural pride. I had thought the wayside stores in Bali were the epitome of makeshift until now. Over it all lay a fine patina of wear, reminiscent of fishing camps I’ve seen in Northern Michigan. The place looks as if it had been busily deteriorating for the last 30 or so years. Oddly enough, I didn’t get many pictures of Ooty. Now I wish I had.

There were compensations. Yogesh had located a guide, named Kumar, a stringy 48 year old who usually guided mountain treks. Driving around with us for a couple of days was literally a walk in the park, thus costing us 500 rupees ($10) a day. He showed us the sights around, not in, Ooty. We drove from the Botanical Gardens to a tea museum to Doddabetta Lookout to the Rose Garden to a wax museum to the boat dock just across from the Thread Museum. This last was most amazing. 60 million meters of embroidery thread, formed around wires, making incredibly natural looking flowers and even shrubs. It’s in the Guinness Book of Records. Liz was entranced enough to purchase one of their samples. That night at dinner in a hotel we noticed a sign announcing a mini car museum. An enterprising young model car enthusiast had put together an amazing collection of model cars with a focus on the earliest self-moving machines. Fascinating! Next morning we took a ride on the little blue train. For a total of 80 cents, we saw a lot in an hour and a half worth of mountain scenery and met a couple of cute Indian families. Kumar couldn’t let us go without one more run through another botanical garden, this one devoted to trees and operating since the 1850’s. One more mountaintop view (actually two, Dolphin’s Nose and a twenty minute walk to enjoy the view from Lamb’s Rock where you can see 35 villages at once) and we had had it for the day. Myself especially. Something I ate wanted out - bad. I spent the rest of the day letting it have its way. Incredible India. I do have to admit that the food is the tastiest next to Thai but one does have to accept the occasional disaster.

Tea Museum is really a tea factory.

Gandhi in Wax Museum

Gandhi unified India. He wove cloth and turned India from dependency on imported cloth.
If you don't know who he was, see the movie. It was voted "Best Picture".

Small Car Museum in Ooty has classic model cars on display.

Calla Lilies made out of thread from Thread Museum in Ooty.

Little Blue Train gives great views through the mountains

The Family we rode the Blue Train with

Mike, Yogesh and Ooty guide, Kumar

Next morning back into the car and through more mountains to Kodaikanal. I did mention we were in the mountains, didn’t I? Some pretty tall and wild mountains. One peak is the highest in India after the Himalayas. I also remember bragging about driving the road to Hana in Hawaii. Kid stuff. Constant narrow bends hugging the sides of mountains. Brief glimpses over deep valleys, trucks and busses both coming at you and blocking forward progress until Yogesh can find a narrow opening and enough open road ahead to pass, generally up against a steep wall of rock or looking out over a steep void. I was never so glad to be in a small car. One that doesn’t take up so much road. We saw hundreds of monkeys, in groups of from 2 to a dozen, perched on the stone guardrails, treating the traffic like a spectator sport.

　

Monkeys line the mountain roads to watch the cars.

Great Mountain Views are the Norm

If you aren’t a hardcore trekker (not me, I resign), there isn’t that much to do in Kodaikanal, with the exception of Coaker’s Walk. That’s actually quite an exception. A broad paved path, a kilometer or so long, hugging the edge of a mountain with a spectacular view, lined with all sorts of carnival style hucksters. It’s been there in one form or another since the late 1800’s. Once again we had the unique experience of families, giggling groups of schoolgirls and groups of young men approaching us and asking to have their picture taken with us and practice their English. Western visitors seem to be vanishingly rare around here. We were there for just a couple of nights (the norm for this whirlwind run through the mountains) and goofed off all afternoon. Liz got thoroughly annoyed with construction going on next door and somebody mowing a lawn with an industrial strength weed whacker.

Coaker's Walk in Kodaikanal

View from Coaker's Walk

Mike target shooting along Coaker's Walk.

　

If it’s Monday, we must be in Munnar. Just a morning’s drive through the Chinnar Wildlife Sanctuary. Oh, look, wild elephants! We only saw three but the road abounded in signs to not disturb them. There are also tiger and leopard in them thar hills. We then crossed over from Tamil Nadu province to Kerala. An immediate improvement in the visual aspect of the cities. Not nearly as much trash and evidence of rather more prosperity. The roads even seem wider and better marked, often with actual lane stripes down the center, not that they get much respect from local drivers. By the way, Kerala province for many years now has elected its officials from the Communist Party. Flags with the hammer and sickle and posters of Marx, Engels, Lenin and Stalin are common sights. We made enough stops for sightseeing and lunch that we were ready to bag it for the day after checking to a fairly comfortable hotel.

The Quantas Airline magazine recommended a visit to Kerala.
They report that Kerala is a democratic state that routinely votes Communist.

　

Another day of sightseeing. First, Eravikulam National Park, with most of the nearly extinct Tahr goats in residence here. Just a smallish animal, about the same height as a sheep, most of them completely unruffled by all the humans passing within a stone’s throw. There’s a walk of a couple of kilometers along a broad paved path winding up the side of a hill at a very gentle angle. Again with the people wanting to take our picture with them. Nice folks all around, out to enjoy the day and the sights. Oh look, there’s another elephant ride! Hey, it was cheap and I’m really beginning to like the big beasts. These animals appeared thoroughly bored with their 15 minute walk down a path and back but really livened up at the pineapple offering at the end of the ride. Best part of the experience for both of us. Next, a visit to Tip-Top, a Really high view spot with a stop at Madupetty Dam, a major supplier of electricity for the region. There’s another dam upstream of it, but its lake was dead empty, not to be refilled until the monsoons. Tip-top requires another few kilometers of walking in order to see the clouds drifting by below you. Difficult to capture in still pictures but pretty impressive in the short movies I shot.

Endangered Tahrs

Friendly Lady appreciates our Western presence.

Another Elephant Ride, this time in Munnar, Kerala, India

Shashi prepared a surprise for us with Yogesh for the next day. Rather than turn northwest to Wayanad he drove us west to Alappuzha on the Arabian Sea. Hot and Humid, very few other tourists and ruinous lodging prices for a night on a houseboat. We took a pass and after a late lunch and a look at the sea, turned north, driving until nearly dark before taking lodging at a very luxurious and expensive business hotel in a city I can’t even remember, way the hell north of Cochin.

The Arabian Sea

At least it was a fairly short drive the next day to Kalpetta, in the dead center of Wayanad, which is the name of a region rather than a city. On arrival, Liz treated herself to an Ayurvedic massage, complete with a 1930’s style steam cabinet and lots of hot oil. Next morning, more sightseeing. A walk around a pretty little lake and then another walk to one of many local waterfalls. That took another couple of kilometers of walking, mostly downhill, with lots of clumsy stone steps leading also down, finally to an extremely nice waterfall, well attended by tourists. Seems a college IT class was taking a graduation trip. One girl in particular was very interested in pumping us for information on how she could get a job in the US, tomorrow if possible. On the way back (UP, of course!) it started to sprinkle, then actually rain. By the time we got back to the car we were soaked. It looked like an all day rain so we splashed back to the hotel, had lunch and decided to spend the afternoon blogging. Tomorrow, Bangalore and a little sightseeing, then off to a few days in Holland, then home!

Steam Box for Ayervedic Massage

Waterfall. We have seen dozens but they are still refreshing.

　

Okay, motorcycle buffs, take note. How would you like to own a brand new mid 50’s British motorcycle, original in every detail? Not restored, not rebuilt, brand new. It exists, though the price is pretty extravagant. Here’s the story. In 1955 the Indian army contracted with Royal Enfield to purchase thousands of 350cc, single cylinder motorcycles but insisted that they be assembled in India and several parts manufactured here. By 1962 all components were of Indian manufacture and the bikes were available for civilian purchase. They became a national icon. They’re still being built at a rate of 7000 a year with a 6 month waiting list. Not changed in any visible particular; drum brakes, 3 inches of suspension, separate transmission, chain driven generator and right hand shift included Nearly every one of them I’ve seen is freshly washed and waxed and obviously the apple of the owner’s eye. As well they should be at 4,000 bucks purchase price. In a place where a perfectly adequate Tata Diesel sedan goes for about 6 grand and a Hero Honda motorcycle (another locally built machine) goes for about a grand and a half.