An End To This Madness!

Trivandrum (map) and Kanyakamuri (map), India 

In this blog: your typical city, some martial arts training, an elephant parade, and the most southerly point of India.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Every place in India that I've visited has been distinct or unique in some way, but the city of Trivandrum, the state capital of Kerala, is the first that I can describe as 'just another city' - one without much distinction in any way. But since I was passing through I thought it was worth stopping for a day, and it also made a good hub for a trip to the most southerly point of India - Kanyakamuri, which turned out to be quite a bizarre day, even by Indian standards.

Royal Treasure

Room service is something that doesn't normally come into the vocabulary of your average backpacker trying to keep to a budget. But when you find, as I did one morning that you can have a complete breakfast delivered to your room for just £0.75 (75 rupees), how can you possibly say no? I felt like a king, a king with a paper crown.

Sri Padmanabhaswamy
temple

I set off for a city walk, stopping briefly outside Sri Padmanabhaswamy temple (a mouthful or what?), made famous when ten years or so ago a trawl of treasure - diamonds, gold, gems - was found in a hidden room, valued at between US$40-200 billion! Can you imagine being the person who found that? Next door was Puttan Malika Palace which I had a quick look around, where the standout item was definitely a solid crystal throne - is it possible to get more bling?

Museum in the park

I walked a couple of miles to the other end of town, impressed that an Indian city actually had pavements you could use for once, without resorting to climbing over piles of rubble, risking falling down a hole, or tripping over a stray cable. Passing an Indian Rail workshop I stopped for a few minutes to watch over a wall whilst men and women overhauled parts of trains, went past some interesting British Raj-era buildings that still look just as grand, relaxed for a while in a nice park, and had a brief gander in the pretty shabby Natural History Museum. The day was rounded off nicely at an old-fashioned looking cinema I chanced upon near my hotel, which happened to have a movie in English - 'Noah'. With a 20p bag of popcorn in hand and a pair of 3D glasses perched on nose, life couldn't get more exciting!

Loincloths and Sticks

Kalarippayat Training

Most martial arts seem to originate from Japan of China, but India has one of it's own, called - 'kalarippayat'. I read that the training session was open to the public, so the following morning I got up nice and early to see what it was all about. I walked into the building, finding a sunken pit where about twenty men and boys were training and grabbed a seat on the terrace above, along with a couple of other curious Westerners. It was a typically Indian experience - everyone wore a white loincloth which revealed way too much, and there was a small shrine in one corner that was occasionally paid reference to. The main part of training seemed to consist of walking along doing palm-to-the-floor lunges, reaching for the sky with both hands, or doing high kicks in the manner of Monty Python's 'Ministry of Silly Walks' sketch. I jest, but it was genuinely very impressive to watch, especially later in the session when some of them men did stick fighting exercises against each other with high speed and precision.

Lands End - Madness Magnet

Like the South Pole which has magnetic attraction for metal, the southernmost point of India - Kanyakamuri - seemed to have a magnetic attraction for madness - the day trip there was one of the most unpredictable and bizarre I've had for some time. So it was a quite fitting then that it should also be the symbolic end to my journey in India.

After the early morning martial arts - a mildly different start to the day, I took the train south for a day trip. A friendly man walked through the carriage with a broken arm and talked for a few minutes, then a little after a man with no legs rolled through, sat on a small wheeled cart begging for money. An hour later a severely disfigured man also begging for money looked my way. This doesn't usually happen on trains, the streets yes, but not trains. Reaching the town of Kanyakamuri, I walked a mile or so to what I thought was the southernmost point, and cresting a small hill what was my first sight? A man having a poo on the beach. Wrong place obviously.

Monuments on the rocks

It was swelteringly hot and humid, but at least the coastal winds now provided a little relief. I walked a mile or so later along the filthy shore towards the town, passing through a fishing village which was partly destroyed by the 2004 Boxing Day tsunami. Kids say hello, and a woman with a baby offered biscuits to me, without a word or a smile. Back on track again I took a ferry with hundreds of Indian tourists across to a couple of big rocks a little way offshore, where there stood a granite statue of a god, and a grand  memorial to someone who once visited to meditate; a very Indian justification for such a structure. Traditional Indian music played through speakers throughout, and made the situation feel more like a movie than real life. It does feel that way in India sometimes.

Ceremony at the most southerly
point in India

Back on the mainland, I wandered to the most southerly point of India - I was finally there after months with it in my sights, sad in some ways, but a satisfying feeling nonetheless. A big ceremony of some sort was taking place - a man was being blessed and given a garland, and a huge line of identically dressed women were being presented with a flower arrangement to carry on their head. Fully clothed Indians were jumping around and playing in the waves below. A deaf female hawker with no teeth, a massive smile and an American bandana on her head started talking to me, for once not really trying to sell anything, but proudly showing me photos of her with other western tourists. A young Indian man asked if I'd be in a photo with him - not my first that day - and not wanting to be rude I reluctantly walked to the rocks below, only for a wave to crash in and soak my shoes. It was time to leave, and I headed back, grabbing a red banana on the way - red bananas I thought, whatever next?

Parade

The bizarre day went up another notch again when I spotted something on the street ahead. Was it really I thought? Yes, yes it really was - three elephants were walking along the street. It turned out the small ceremony I'd seen at the coast had now surprisingly turned into a huge carnival-like parade, with hundreds of people walking in line up the road. As well as the people I'd seen earlier, there were musicians, drummers, people in traditional dress, and the elephants - fully decorated and being ridden by traditionally dressed men. At the front of the parade were a pair of tractors which had a bamboo structure built on to them, and hanging from that were two men suspended by ropes, floating around like superman. I looked closer and my jaw dropped - they weren't just tied to the rope, but were suspended by fishing hooks that had been inserted into their skin! I'd never seen anything like it, I was amazed.

Hooked (note: look closely only if you dare)

The parade neared the end, and it was time for me to head back, so I headed to the train station. 'The last train was at four, you've missed it' the ticket lady said. I walked the mile or so to catch the bus instead, just getting there in time to catch it, and setting off heading north. About half an hour into the journey I looked ahead, to see that the bus was going to have to partly cut a corner to get past an oncoming bus which wasn't slowing. Suddenly BANG - one of the rear tyres blew out, presumably on a stray rock. Oh joy. Everyone piled off onto the verge, and an irritating young drunk guy started talking to me. Ten minutes later another passing bus stopped and we squeezed on. I then learnt that it wasn't going our way, so a little later we had to change bus at the next town. To add to this, the replacement bus we were awaiting was stuck in traffic - luckily it wasn't cold or wet - problems are only half as bad when the weather's good. After half an hour or so another bus showed up, and at 10pm I was finally back. Exhausted.

Martial arts, disabled beggars, defecating men, hawkers, unwanted photos, a surprise festival, a red banana, a missed train, and a bus breakdown - that's quite a day, even by Indian standards. And what a way to finish, because as far as Indian culture goes, that was it, the end of my trip - with a flight out of the country finally booked and just three days left, it was time to head to the beach.

'One photo please sir?'. OK then!

Street life

Pickled monkey in the Natural
History Museum

As far south as you can get in India 

Fun at the seaside

Parade

Ladies with their gifts

Think Differently

Rishikesh, India

The end of the line was nearing on the overnight journey, so having managed to grab a few hours sleep I went and hung out the train door, taking in the scenery in the refreshing morning sun, passing people walking beside the tracks heading for work and pigs rummaging through rubbish, arriving eventually at the final destination - Rishikesh - a bit of a special town in different ways. I didn't know a lot about it, but it was recommended by a few people as being a bit of a travellers Mecca, as well as having some good hiking, being very new-agey and a big pilgrimage sight for Hindus; so all in all a pretty diverse place to visit. They were right, it's been interesting and thought provoking, peaceful and relaxing, fun and exciting, and led me to try a number of out-there things I'd never even thought about before, let alone tried. I ended up staying over a week which included among other things, another eventful hike, an offer of starring in a TV advert, yoga, lots of chai, and a run in with both some monkeys and a security guard. So it's fair to say it's been the most bizarre week of the trip so far.

Tuesday 10th 

I arrived in the suberb of Laxman Jhula at about 9am, and immediately settled straight into a different frame of mind; that where traveling is more about watching, talking, relaxing, learning, reading and trying, thanks to there being so many other backpackers around for once. I found a nice place for breakfast beside the famous holy river Ganges, and had a bowl of porridge with chopped banana and honey, a new favourite of mine - not exactly typical Indian food, but then this is no typical town. There's so much accommodation and therefore competition available in the town, that I soon found a hotel with a decent but basic double room overlooking the Ganges, set back against the wooded hillside, for an unbelievable £2.50 (250 rupees) a night! A whole en-suite room with balcony, hot water (not always included) and WiFi to myself for that price - how is this even possible?!

One of the larger ashrams

After a morning catching up with a few things I set off to look around town, and was instantly captured by the calm and reflective mood of the place. I was surprising to see how clean the Ganges looked, roaring past in a deep shade of turquoise ready for people to pollute it further downstream. Hindus consider the river holy, and throughout the town you see many hanging out on the ghats - sets of wide steps down to the river, bathing in this 'holy water' and filling small containers to take home. As far as foreigners go, the town seemed to be dominated by hippies - I've never seen so many. Some in the stereotypical brightly patterned clothing with dreadlocks, some in traditional loose fitting Indian plain white cotton gowns, and a few in orange Hindu robes, strolling around often looking a bit spaced out. The town seemed to be dominated by various Hindu temples, ghats and Ashrams - walled complexes where mostly Westerners come on intense ten day Yoga and meditation retreats, where they hope for some sort of enlightening spiritual experience. I strolled through the well-kept public areas of a couple of these compounds, seeing statues of Hindu gods, manicured gardens, people sat meditating, and locals chatting. 

 

Local saddhus

Inside an ashram complex

Wednesday 11th

It's certainly not something I'd normally consider doing - I mean Yoga is this eighties fad which girls use for fitness and toning, isn't it? In India it's considered very differently, and practiced equally between sexes without stigma. So whilst in the 'yoga capital of the world' and always open to new and interesting experiences, I gave it a go to see what it was about.

I was the only person at the beginners class at 'Om Shanti Om' and it was just as well as it would have been hilarious for anyone watching. I mean I could barely cross my legs - the last time I remember really doing so for more than a few minutes was at primary school! The lady first taught breathing exercises designed to relax the mind, then gentle stretching exercises, building up over the hour to some of the set moves. Surprisingly, doing the session made me realise that last year the coach at my gig rowing club at home sneaked some yoga exercise into our fitness training without us realising, cheeky. My back ached, my hip joints hurt, and I had no flexibility at all, but I left at the end walking very upright and feeling extremely relaxed.

I spent most of the afternoon in one of the many cafés in town catering to backpackers, most of them following a similar theme of beach hut type decor, alternate music, free WiFi, and offering a variety of worldwide food. Not exactly authentic Indian obviously, but great places to spend hours relaxing, reading and meeting other travellers, and I chatted for a couple of hours to an Australian lad called Shaun who I ended up hanging out with a few times over the week. Strangely, I think he's the only other long term traveller I've met on this trip until now, him having been away well over a year so we shared a few stories from our trips.

That night I went for tea, and a couple of minutes after sitting down the waiter said 'that guy over there would like to speak to you', pointing to a business-like Indian guy. Intrigued, I went over and he introduced himself as a casting agent who had been working in town on a German movie that had been filmed here the past few days (I'd spotted them earlier), and said he was now casting for a project next week which he thought I looked suitable for! I couldn't help but laugh. He said 'Would you be interested in in starring in a paint advert, you'd only have a few lines to say and we'd pay you, as well as your expenses to get to Kerala (south India) and stay'. He took a photo of me on his phone and sent it to the director, who immediately replied saying 'send more pictures' which he did. I was told to wait and see for a couple of days...

Statue of one of the Hindu gods

Thursday 12th

I was reading my book on the roof terrace area of the hotel by my room that morning, when I spotted a group of about eight monkeys congregating, first on the area down below, tearing apart a bin bag scattering it everywhere and scavenging for food, then being shooed away by the guy on the room above. So when one of them started moving towards the bin near where I was sitting, for some reason I went towards it waving my arms, and shouting to usher it away. Bad move. It stood upright with teeth snarling and started running towards me. I panicked, not really knowing what was happening or what to do so I just shouted at it and started running. Thankfully some Indian guys close by heard the commotion, and chased the whole group off with a stick, so all was ended up fine. Slightly terrifying, especially as they're sometime known to bite, and can carry rabies. I really should have known better!

And so from monkeys to Beetles. Back in the sixties, the pop group The Beetles famously went to India for a couple of months inspired by a Hindu guru they met in England, and stayed in his ashram here in Rishikesh, supposedly doing spiritual stuff but in reality doing a lot of drugs and writing songs, including the whole of The White Album. The place they stayed at, for various reasons closed down long ago, and when the lease ran out in 1997 was abandoned and left for nature to reclaim. I'd read and heard a lot of different stories about how fantastic it was, and despite being officially closed and fenced off, how lots of people just bribe the guard or jump the wall around the side. Not the sort of thing I'd normally do, but I figured if so many people were visiting and doing no harm, one more wouldn't hurt. Even my Rough Guide book hinted it would be fine. It sounded well worth a chance so I walked to the outskirts of town, and after asking around a bit found the place. Following the wall of the complex around through the woods, out of sight I climbed a crumbled down half meter high section where other people had obviously done the same. Inside I was instantly enthralled - all of the original paths and buildings remained, although stripped completely back to their concrete bones, and were completely entangled with trees and bushes that had grown over the past couple of decades, reminding me of the lost temples of Anchor Wat in Cambodia. I walked around looking in the meditation huts, into the old accommodation blocks, kitchens and various other outlying buildings, trying to work out what their purpose may have been, and which buildings The Beetles themselves would have stayed in. I imagined the place full of life, and wondered how such beautiful buildings could just have been abandoned like this, now rotting, rusting, peeling, broken, fallen and decayed. 

 

Former medidation huts

On the rooftop, with mosaic clad domes

It was so quiet, the only sound being the Ganges flowing nearby and a dog barking far away in the distance, and I stepped into the large hall where the Maharishi - the guru - would have given his lectures, now with walls covered inside by some great artwork and inspiring quotes. I then went up a concrete staircase onto the rooftop patio of one of the nearby accommodation blocks, and found a couple of American guys there so chatted away for a few minutes. A local sadhu (wandering monk) arrived a few minutes later and waved his stick ushering us out though not in a threatening manner, and we thought we'd better oblige. Down on the main path, we came across about six other people who had also been looking round and 'caught', standing solemnly by the security guard. Busted. He marched us out and that was that, a couple of hours in an amazing place with a lot of history. OK so strictly speaking I shouldn't have been in there, but from what I understand half the visitors to Rishikesh seem to end up visiting at some point so they can't be too worried. I'm not sure if it's a shame it's not officially open, or more exciting because of it. 

 

Inside the main hall 

Friday 13th

'Excuse me sir, I am schizophrenic, give me money' - one of the more imaginative lines I've heard from a beggar, as I walked to breakfast that morning - it's a complicated and widespread issue in India and I'll discuss it in a separate blog sometime, but in this case I rightly or wrongly put him down as a chancer and walked on.

Apart from hanging out in some cafés and reading, my only proper activity this day was something I never thought I'd do. Now I'm pretty skeptical generally of a lot of the new age practices you hear about; I guess I'm just a bit scientifically minded. But I'm also of the belief that you shouldn't dismiss things without trying them, so out of curiosity I decided to go and get my palm read at one of the many places in town. It lasted about quarter of an hour, with an old Indian guy carefully examining both palms with a magnifying glass, telling me things as he went. I won't tell you the results, but all I will say is that I left as skeptical as I arrived. It was all positive, and a couple of things were interesting (let's see if they come true) but I can't help but think a lot of it was generalisations he could have applied to anyone my age by just looking at them and picking out the obvious. 

I met up with Shaun again that night as well as Emilie - a French-Canadian friend of his and went to East-West, a very relaxed restaurant that turned out to be a proper hippie hangout, and the only happening place to go in town of an evening. Being a holy city, Rishikesh is completely dry - alcohol is illegal in town, and I looked around at all these people chatting away for hours and playing bongos and guitars, and given the age and type of people, thought how unique it was for such an evening not to be fueled whatsoever by drink. 

Whilst it may sound like it was an action packed week from the above, in fact it's been pretty leisurely, those things only taking up an hour or two each day. Throughout this trip I've kept pretty busy, trying to make the most out of every day, but Rishikesh has a certain calmness about it, and for once I felt it was actually OK to just sit round chatting and reading - things I could do anywhere, rather than having to see and do stuff. But that only lasts so long, and the place slowly went from energising me to draining me, so it was time to get out and do something - a spot of hiking. More tomorrow.

 

There are two common types of monkeys in India. These are the slightly nicer ones

 

This guy was sat outside a restaurant as some sort of living advert