Back to Bangalore

'I can finally tell you now' begins Edd. This sounds ominous, we are sitting in a very smart Rajasthani vegetarian restaurant, in a designer mall in Bangalore. 

'Tell me what?' I ask.

'Well you know you thought you saw a rat on the first overnight train to Badami. Well you definitely did, as when I folded my bed down for the night it was there waiting. After it ran off, I stuffed some of my blanket down the hole it ran into and hoped it didn't reemerge. I thought I ought to wait until we finished the train parts of the holiday before I told you...'

We arrived from Hosapete into Bangalore City junction at 6 am. Fortunately on this overnight train neither of us saw any rodents. We set out to explore the city reasonably early, and found the city market in full swing. Miles of jasmine garlands had already been spun, and sat in piles the size of tractor tyres in the centre of the market. It also had an amazing selection of multicoloured flashing Hindu shrines, which Edd was very tempted by. 

The next stop was the city fort, which the English had successfully destroyed most of in the eighteenth century. Then on through the backstreets (as Bangalore is digging up a lot of its main streets for a new metro system) to Tipu Sultan's palace. I'm not sure Tipu would have appreciated our visit. His favourite toy was a French built life sized mechanical organ of a tiger mauling an English soldier- complete with sound effects. Ironically this is now in the V&A, but we did see a small model of it.

Meena gave us some excellent recommendations for restaurants in Bangalore and it is fair to say that we spent most of the rest of the day eating with a bit of shopping in between. The Rajasthani restaurant was a great adventure. The waiters seemed a little surprised that we wanted to eat Indian thali and weren't opting for the Italian opposite. However once we had persuaded them of  our enthusiasm for the menu and ( despite me managing to spill a bottle of Pepsi everywhere) we were shown to a lovely table with golden thali dishes and mugs. Each course was a little bit of surprise for us- but we could mostly guess what each dish was. We waddled out into the designer mall about an hour and a half later, for an afternoon of shopping in the rain. 

Our last meal in India was at a very cool Parsi restaurant. It was the first restaurant in two weeks which served alcohol, and I tried some Indian Wine ( Sulla )which was surprisingly good. The Parsi community were originally immigrants from Iran, and are famous for their cafes in Mumbai. The food was really good- especially the chocolate brownie, which was necessary acclimatisation ahead of the return to the UK tomorrow. With the exception of some homemade chocolate in Coorg, we have not had any chocolate this holiday. This has been very tricky for Edd, who is already planning a chocolate binge the moment we land. 

We had a slightly adrenalin fuelled trip back to the hotel from a tuk tuk driver who seemed to be trusting totally in Gods will when it came to steering.  

We went back to pack ready for a 3.45am start to the airport the next day.

The elephant bath

It's a truth universally acknowledged that every temple elephant in possession of a kind mahoot must be in want of a daily bath. Lakshmi strolled out of the temple at 8.25am ready for her morning soak. She artfully negotiated the steps from temple to the river, stopping only to snaffle a large helping of peanuts from a lady selling nuts on the edge of the steps. She waded out into the water past women washing their clothes and children swimming. Before slowly lowering herself into the water, and with a small splash lay on her side ready to be washed by  three men with soap and scrubbing brushes. Whilst changing sides one of the bathers approached her for a blessing.  Using her trunk she squirted him with some river water before rolling onto her other side for the bath to continue.

We left her to it, and went to catch a ferry to the other side of the river. It turned into a long wait, as we needed the boat to be full before the ferryman would cross the 20 metres of water to the other side. Eventually we set out with a full boat- including a motorcycle parked precariously on the front.

There is an ongoing battle between the residents of Hampi and the government about how to preserve the ruins. Unfortunately this seems to lead to fairly routine demolitions, and the day before a large section of the village appeared to have been demolished, and everything was shut. I don't really understand the argument at hand between the residents and government, but seeing homeless people in the wreckage of what appeared to be well built houses did nothing to improve the aesthetic of Hampi.

We found a tuk tuk to take us into another village- Anegondi. This was a capital city of an older empire than Hampi. We had a wonder around, but had forgotten to bring the guide book, which was a bit of a mistake. We struggled to find anywhere to eat, but ended up having a highly nutritious lunch of what can only be described as Indian nick-nacks on the steps of a small food stall. A map in the town centre appeared to show elephant and camel stables so we decided to go on an expedition to find them. This involved a walk through the backstreets of Anegondi, past spotlessly clean houses and out into the fields beyond. After a long wonder about we found a dome sticking out of an overgrown patch of jungly looking plants. There was much excitement for about 30 seconds until we realised that if these were the stables the civilisation of Anegondi, they must have specialised in 'bonzi' elephants and camels. Instead we had found another small temple- Edd was delighted.

We decided to abandon the exploration as frankly it just got too hot, and began the journey back to Hampi. The tuk tuk driver took us to the Lakshmi temple on the way back. This place had a large tank covered in a stagnant layer of red grime, and a particular fondness of tinsel as a source of decoration. The shrine was very peaceful half way up the hill, but we decided it was definitely time to return to Hampi and find some proper lunch.

We spent a long lazy afternoon basking under the fans of a rooftop cafe, with mugs of masala chai and lemon and ginger tea. I left Edd to his book for a bit, and went  and had some amazing reflexology on my feet that were not enjoying hiking in sandals (RIP walking boots- the heat melted your glue.) 

We were leaving Hampi that evening, and went to try and say goodbye to Lakshmi the elephant. Sadly she was nowhere to be seen, but we climbed up the hill behind the temple to watch another spectacular sunset. The only problem was the bands of marauding monkeys intent on stealing water bottles. One tried to grab a bottle from my hand, before it was chased away by Edd. He is still not a fan of monkeys.

We then headed for the overnight train back to Bangalore, from where we fly home to England first thing on Friday morning.

Well it's not quite Somerset is it?

'Well it's not quite Somerset is it?' It is the first temple of the day, and Edd has reached peak temple. The heat has definitely speeded up this process, it is barely 10.00am, and already over 35c. I've finally bought a hat- Edd says it channels my inner Victorian novelist- although this has not prevented him from steeling it and pouting at the camera. 

We could have cycled round Hampi on bicycles. But (for what has to be a first) Edd turned down the two wheel option for the three wheeled alternative, and we hopped between the ruins in a tuk tuk. Hampi is not a small place, we soon decided it is not better than Badami or as ornate as Belur. But it is huge. At its peak (14th-16th centuries) it was the capital city of an empire covering most of south India. Hampi (otherwise known as Vijayanagar) housed 500,000 people, and partook in international trade despite being miles from the coast. It had 5 bazaars, with one of these specialising in the trade of diamonds, gold and pearls. Vijayanagar's size and wealth impressed the Portuguese explorers. However, it all came to an abrupt stop when a confederacy of Deccan sultanates burnt the city to the ground in 1565. It was abandoned shortly afterwards, and today ruins lie amongst the boulders and banana plantations around three villages. 

We went to see a handful of temples, the Islamic quarter, and then headed over to the queen's enclosure. Edd went to buy a ticket, this meant passing through a large group of Indian ladies who were on a day trip to Hampi. They took quite a shine to Edd and encircled him singing. Edd looked terrified. Soon selfies were demanded and cameras appeared from every angle to take pictures of the slightly confused looking English people. One of the ladies approached another English girl and asked her do you have a husband?
'I have five in London.' The English girl replied completely deadpan. This caused a little bit of confusion...

The highlight of the queens enclosure was without doubt the elephant stables. I'm not sure what the planning department of south Cambs district council would make of them, but I think they'd look good at Marshalls Farm. Cobbles would love them. 

We then headed back for a long lunch to sit out the heat of the midday sun. The afternoon was a sticky walk round the Kings palace, and the queens baths. There isn't really any form of shade in Hampi, but because of the heat the ruins are deserted and we had them pretty much to ourselves. There is possibly a lot of truth in the old adage mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.

We then headed along to the Vittula temple, which is the aesthetic highlight of Hampi, and includes an enormous stone chariot just outside the doorway to the temple. 

The last stop of the day was to watch the sun go down from the top of one of the Boulder hills. With sundowners of rehydration salts. We watched the sun go down, feeling exhausted and thoroughly gapyah. 

Hippy hippy Hampi

We are both wimps. Given the option between a local bus and a taxi we decided the taxi would be better. Although it did have air conditioning, and cut the journey from 6 hours to a gentle 3. We set out for Hampi first thing, and persuaded the driver to stop for breakfast after about an hour.

The taxi driver selected a venue, which was a small restaurant on the edge of the town. The men sat with their iddly and glasses of chai reading the morning papers. There was not a woman in sight. The papers were soon ignored, and there developed an intense competition of who could stare at the slightly strange foreigners the most. The winner of this was definitely the man who began at his table, walked outside to stare through the window for ten minutes before returning to a different table to continue looking at us from a different angle. Iddlys are absolutely delicious, they are spongy rice cakes and are served with vegetable curry and a thick coconut chutney. These ones were particularly good- three meals with chai came to £1.30.

We hopped back into the taxi and headed for Hampi. The dusty agricultural plains slowly transformed to mountains of red boulders that rose out of the emerald banana plantations. Scatterings of ruins began to appear by the side of the road, and then we reached Hampi Bazaar and found where most of the hippies had been hiding since the sixties.

One of our first jobs was to register at the local police station, and assure them we weren't going to fall into hippy ways. We then headed off for a walk around the temples close to town. Edd is getting close to reaching his temple saturation point. This was not helped by a trip to the Hanuman temple, which unsurprisingly given that Hanuman is the monkey God was teaming with many of Edd's favourite animals. We met a very friendly monk who gave us a tour (and assured Edd that the monkeys would not steal his shoes.) He finished the tour by smearing our heads with a stripe of red paint. This is surprisingly sticky stuff, a day later the red stripes survive.

The last stop of the evening was surprise surprise another temple.  The Virupakshur has an elephant sized added attraction in the shape of Lakshmi- the temple elephant. If you hand her ten rupees she will give you a blessing by laying her trunk on your head. While we were there she was very carefully having a drink from a tap- and not wasting a drop. We met the mahouts brother who explained that her parents are at Mysore palace (there seems a good chance we met them earlier in the trip.) He gave us a tour of the temple, and showed us where and how Lakshmi lives. Her morning begins with a long bath in the river, she then eats leaves for breakfast and lunch, but in the evening they feed her a large bowl of cooked rice. She seemed exceptionally placid and her face was painted with red spots. Apparently the temple used to have 6 elephants, but now there is only Lakshmi. 

The day was finished by another couple of games of backgammon. The current score is two games each...

Backgammon Victory

There has been a great victory. After months of trying, I have finally beaten Edd at backgammon. Apparently we are now playing for best of three, I have been relishing the victory (and dodging a rematch) all evening...

Of all the places to have my first backgammon victory the setting was spectacular. Sitting outside a temple on the top of a cliff face overlooking Badami town, an enormous 5th century water tank (read lake) below us, and the fort where Tipi Sultan hid all his treasure from the British behind us. 

It's tricky to know where to begin when describing Badami. We arrived early in the morning on the night train from Mysore. The train station is slightly out of town, and we had to take a tuk tuk to get to the hotel. Even at 7.45am on a Sunday morning the main street was chaos. The ratio of cows, oxen and pigs in the road soon confirmed that this place was a new level of bonkers, with the four legged beasts seemingly having a better grasp of rudimentary Highway Code than their two legged counterparts. 

Having dropped our bags off at the hotel, and had a much needed shower we headed up into the old town. Badami was once the capital of the Chalukyan empire, which stretched from Tamil Nadu in the south east to Gujarat in the north. Its heyday was from 540-757 AD.   The old town is built round a 5th century water tank, which is essentially a reservoir with steps leading down to he water on three sides. The steps were continually full with a least two ladies beating their laundry into submission, a man fishing and some children jumping into swim to cool off in the hot weather. Around the edge of the tank are large red cliffs, which look like the product of an affair between the state of Arizona and Petra in Jordan. In the morning we climbed up one set of cliffs to see four cave temples, which were carved from the rock. Sitting in the cool of the cave it is possible to look out across the water tank and watch the world go by. Given the echo from the steps and the valley the ladies beating their laundry in the water at the bottom of the steps sounded distinctly like gunfire.

In the afternoon we walked around the tank visiting the small, plainer temples. At all times we were avoiding the 'Monkey menace.' Gangs of monkeys are very keen on stealing water bottles (and probably any other thing of value they can get there hands on.) Our shoes (which we took off to go into one of the temples) were only saved by the quick thinking of the temple care taker and a small scythe from the pilfering monkeys.

We then climbed up the left hand cliffs, and it all became a little bit like entering an Indiana Jones movie. Sadly Harrison Ford was nowhere in sight- sorry Edd..Stairs cut out of the rock led off into passage ways that opened into temples. The main path was being rebuilt and a long line of workers carried cement bags on their heads from the bottom of the cliffs to the fort at the top. Even though it was 5pm at this point the temperature was probably still in the mid thirties, and it looked pretty unpleasant work. 

Heading back into the town at dusk we walked through the old town houses, which were interspersed with more ruins. The houses themselves looked ancient, with flat roofs and ornate wooden doors. They were interspersed with more gates and rubble from the ruins.

I had better go now as Edd wants another match of backgammon... We head off to Hampi at 7am tomorrow.

The calf and the autorickshaw

The next morning we set out at 7am to Halelbid. You might have noticed the pattern of early mornings, and I realise this is slightly out of character for me... However, Edd and I have managed to come to India in the height of summer, and not only that, but it is the hottest summer they have had for many years. In fact it is so unprecedentedly hot that some states have banned all cooking between 6am and 6pm in the little shanty towns and slums that surround most of the larger towns and cities. This is due to the amount of accidental fires there have been in these areas. Fortunately despite quite a low hotel budget- I promise we are not  staying in the slums... 

Hallebid is the sister temple of Belur, these temples are considered unique in south India and were built by the Hoysalas in the twelfth century. Hallebid turned out to be even more impressive that Belur, with an amazing sacred bull  carving guarding the outside. (It was lying down, but I think Cobbles would have appreciated the diminutive size of the legs- maybe his second cousin a few times removed?)

We then had a very tasty dosa (pancake filled with spicy potato) from one of the street food venders on corner of the station, before hopping back into a taxi and heading for Mysore.

We had decided we couldn't quite face the four hour non air conditioned journey back to Mysore, and were running a little short of time to see Hallebid so had hired a taxi for the day. Very profligate expenditure of money, but we did see a little bit more of India from it. My favourite sight was the calf happily travelling with its head looking out from the back of a 'tuk tuk'. Not quite sure where it was heading, but it didn't look too concerned about life, and looked quite accustomed to this mode of transport. I was slightly less keen on the taxi drivers adrenalin pumping overtaking moves. This eventually led to him clipping the back bumper of a very smart looking Hyundai i20 and a confusing hour wait on the side of the road where lots of people animatedly exchanged views on the situation.

We eventually reached Mysore for lunch and headed off for another excellent banana leaf lunch at hotel RRR. 

It was then time for the next adventure and we negotiated the Mysore junction train station and hopped onto an overnight train to the north of Karnataka state- Badami.

The overnight train  was surprisingly comfortable. Edd was very pleased with himself as he scored an enormous victory against me in boxes, and soon forgot I had thrashed at '21'.

Time to leave Coorg...

Unfortunately Friday morning meant that it was time for Edd and me to leave Turtlepond and Coorg. Like all mornings in Coorg it began with a cup of strong black tea, and the mist adding a refreshing chill in the air, neither of us really wanted to leave, and wished we could have stayed longer.

Meena and Ravi, who split their time between Turtlepond and Bangalore were heading back to Bangalore and offered to give us a lift to Mysore. They have been invaluable to helping Edd and me explore Coorg. We both cannot thank them enough, and hope to see them in London soon.  They have also helped us with a couple of spare days we had in our itinerary- so as a slight change of plan we are heading north of Mysore to see two unusual temples at Belur and Hallebid. 

We began the journey back to Mysore, this meant another trip through the Nagarhole national park. We saw one of the buffalo that the Tigers hadn't quite got round to eating yet. It didn't look like it was taking any chances though, and was standing firmly in the middle of the bush-just visible from the road. We hoped very much to see some elephants again, and just as we were beginning to think they had not come to wave us off, we rounded the corner to find a mother and her calf crossing the road. This has unfortunately led to yet another elephant video. Apologies for the spam I am sending out on whatsapp. I have an elephant sized elephant photo addiction. 

Meena and Ravi dropped us off (from their very nice air conditioned car) at a bus station in Mysore, and it was swiftly back to the Indian travel reality as we got on a four hour local bus that had no air conditioning. I sat by the window, which was ok apart from the driver was very keen at spitting and this seemed to work its way back along the coach and neatly into my window.

Neither of us were full of the joys of travelling by the time we got to Belur. We headed out to find some lunch at 5pm, hoping that the temple would be worth the dusty bus slog. 

Fortunately the temple was extraordinary. It had some of the most intricate stone carving I have ever seen, some entertaining images of the karma sutra, and a bunch of highly enthusiastic children who were desperate for selfies and to show us the 'lucky rock' of the temple. You had to sit on the ground and place your hands in an arch on a circular rock and make a wish. There seemed to be a slightly indeterminate time you had to sit there wishing before you were released- Edd got double the time to me- and was then told his wish didn't count. Whereas I was considered very lucky. The selfie craze continued with the adults. Admittedly there were no other westerners there, but by the time we left the temple substantially more pictures has been taken of us than I had taken of the temple. An odd trade surplus.

Yellow shorts go on safari...

Having chatted until midnight with Meena and Ravi getting up at dawn to go on a safari in the Nagarhole national park was a struggle. Nagarhole translates from the local Kannada language as snake stream. We arrived to find the jeap waiting for us. This could fit up to six people, and we were sharing it for the morning with an Indian photographer and his friend. The other space was filled by his enormous camera. He proudly told us he had had some pictures published in the Daily Mail. Edd quickly decided he was wearing the wrong outfit for the occasion. Everyone else was in camouflage or Khaki, whereas Edd was wearing his bright yellow shorts.

We headed off into the park, passing seemingly innumerable deer to the point where either the tigers don't really like to eat them, or the Tigers have become so obese that they no longer hunt them. The former seemed more likely as we drove past a rotting bison carcass. This was killed two days ago, and since then four tigers have apparently passed by to have a pick at it. Sadly this morning it appeared they have all overslept so we headed back to the bumpy track.

The next great excitement was a rustling in the bushes. 'Elephants, elephants' said the guide with some excitement flinging a pair of binoculars over his shoulder. Sure enough, there was an elephants bottom hastily departing into the undergrowth.

We drove on, past deer and storks, as well as a turtle sitting on a branch above a pond. There was a ginger fluffy rodent sitting at the top of a tree, which later turned out to be a Malar flying squirrel. Sadly it was not in flight at the time.

The next excitement was what the guide referred to as 'tiger scat', as he bobbed up and down excitedly from his driving seat in order to get a better view. I don't want to demean tiger poo, but it is not nearly as impressive in construct or size as elephant poo. Whereas elephant poo is statuesque, tiger poo is a little bit like sheep poo- best described as a smudge of dark brown pellets. That excitement over we were back on the track in the bouncy jeep.

All the bouncing was not helping my bladder, which was full by this point with a large mug of black tea and probably a good litre of bottled water. I was beginning to weigh up whether asking the driver to stop would precipitate a tiger getting an easy breakfast.

I soon forgot all about this though, as just as we were crossing another track three more  wild elephant bottoms zoomed into view. The guide drove the jeep alongside them, and we watched two female elephants and a baby elephant munch on a breakfast of leaves.

After a few minutes it became apparent that they were watching us as much as we were watching them. The baby and one female was ushered into the bushes and the matriarch stood staring at us inspecting our every move. I'm not sure what sparked her next actions. Having sent the video via whatsapp to Oli (a friend of Edd's) about what happened next he suggested that Edd might have tried one of his legendary chat up lines on the matriarch, as shouting and running is apparently a normal female response. Either way the jeep had to move pretty sharply as the matriarch trumpeted and ran at us. After we moved slightly further away she resumed her breakfast. We had to return to the safari base all to soon, and eventually left her to her leaves.

We then headed out in a taxi to explore the Coorg region a bit more. Our first stop was the Tibetan refugee camp. This may seem a slight geographic dislocation, but Karnataka state government gave some barren land to over 10,000 Tibetans when they were fleeing the 1959 Chinese invasion. This is a very developed refugee camp, complete with 3300 monks, and a spectacular temple. We wondered round the temple. A music lesson was going on and what sounded like out of tune bagpipes competed with drums on the edge of the temple complex. We headed out to one of the local Tibetan towns for a wonderful lunch of Momos (Tibetan dumplings) and large steamed buns with vegetable 'gravy.' 

In the afternoon we stopped at some gardens on the edge of the Kaveri river. These were a little eccentric, and created the distinct impression that we had stumbled on the Butlins of India (possibly with a little less health and safety...) 

It had cooled down substantially by the time we reached the last stop of the day, which was a tea estate. Perhaps a little controversially given the recent issues in the steel industry this was the 'Tata tea estate'. Coorg is a coffee growing area, and this is the sole tea estate in the vicinity. It was beautifully geometric, with each plot labelled with the year of planting, and latest year of trimming. Most of the plants seemed to have been planted in 1917! 

We then headed back for another wonderful supper with Meena and Ravi on the veranda.

The safari of the yellow shorts

Having chatted until midnight with Meena and Ravi getting up at dawn to go on a safari in the Nagarhole national park was a struggle. Nagarhole translates from the local Kannada language as snake stream. We arrived to find the jeap waiting for us. This could fit up to six people, and we were sharing it for the morning with an Indian photographer and his friend. The other space was filled by his enormous camera. He proudly told us he had had some pictures published in the Daily Mail. Edd quickly decided he was wearing the wrong outfit for the occasion. Everyone else was in camouflage or Khaki, whereas Edd was wearing his bright yellow shorts.

We headed off into the park, passing seemingly innumerable deer to the point where either the tigers don't really like to eat them, or the Tigers have become so obese that they no longer hunt them. The former seemed more likely as we drove past a rotting bison carcass. This was killed two days ago, and since then four tigers have apparently passed by to have a pick at it. Sadly this morning it appeared they have all overslept so we headed back to the bumpy track.

The next great excitement was a rustling in the bushes. 'Elephants, elephants' said the guide with some excitement flinging a pair of binoculars over his shoulder. Sure enough, there was an elephants bottom hastily departing into the undergrowth.

We drove on, past deer and storks, as well as a turtle sitting on a branch above a pond. There was a ginger fluffy rodent sitting at the top of a tree, which later turned out to be a Malar flying squirrel. Sadly it was not in flight at the time.

The next excitement was what the guide referred to as 'tiger scat', as he bobbed up and down excitedly from his driving seat in order to get a better view. I don't want to demean tiger poo, but it is not nearly as impressive in construct or size as elephant poo. Whereas elephant poo is statuesque, tiger poo is a little bit like sheep poo- best described as a smudge of dark brown pellets. That excitement over we were back on the track in the bouncy jeep.

All the bouncing was not helping my bladder, which was full by this point with a large mug of black tea and probably a good litre of bottled water. I was beginning to weigh up whether asking the driver to stop would precipitate a tiger getting an easy breakfast.

I soon forgot all about this though, as just as we were crossing another track three more  wild elephant bottoms zoomed into view. The guide drove the jeep alongside them, and we watched two female elephants and a baby elephant munch on a breakfast of leaves.

After a few minutes it became apparent that they were watching us as much as we were watching them. The baby and one female was ushered into the bushes and the matriarch stood staring at us inspecting our every move. I'm not sure what sparked her next actions. Having sent the video via whatsapp to Oli (a friend of Edd's) about what happened next he suggested that Edd might have tried one of his legendary chat up lines on the matriarch, as shouting and running is apparently a normal female response. Either way the jeep had to move pretty sharply as the matriarch trumpeted and ran at us. After we moved slightly further away she resumed her breakfast. We had to return to the safari base all to soon, and eventually left her to her leaves.

We then headed out in a taxi to explore the Coorg region a bit more. Our first stop was the Tibetan refugee camp. This may seem a slight geographic dislocation, but Karnataka state government gave some barren land to over 10,000 Tibetans when they were fleeing the 1959 Chinese invasion. This is a very developed refugee camp, complete with 3300 monks, and a spectacular temple. We wondered round the temple. A music lesson was going on and what sounded like out of tune bagpipes competed with drums on the edge of the temple complex. We headed out to one of the local Tibetan towns for a wonderful lunch of Momos (Tibetan dumplings) and large steamed buns with vegetable 'gravy.' 

In the afternoon we stopped at some gardens on the edge of the Kaveri river. These were a little eccentric, and created the distinct impression that we had stumbled on the Butlins of India (possibly with a little less health and safety...) 

It had cooled down substantially by the time we reached the last stop of the day, which was a tea estate. Perhaps a little controversially given the recent issues in the steel industry this was the 'Tata tea estate'. Coorg is a coffee growing area, and this is the sole tea estate in the vicinity. It was beautifully geometric, with each plot labelled with the year of planting, and latest year of trimming. Most of the plants seemed to have been planted in 1917! 

We then headed back for another wonderful supper with Meena and Ravi on the veranda. 

 

Brahamagiri Trek

I woke up at 4am. The evening before  Ravi and Meena had shown us where the wild elephants had crossed the estate a few nights ago. Large footsteps were left in the mud along with large mounds of elephant poo. A straight line of destruction  led from a nearby bush into the pond. Where by the looks of the holes in the banks ,the elephants had enjoyed an exuberant midnight paddle. Lying in bed I wondered at every soft crunch outside whether an elephant was going for another midnight bath, and considered whether it was likely I'd be able to see it from the window if it did.  However, I must have drifted back to sleep again, as I woke at 7 to a soft knock on the door, and a large flask of black tea.

The morning was fresh compared to the sticky evening before. No thunderstorm had materialised (which was a large disappointment because there hasn't been rain for here for a month and the coffee could do with a good water.) However, the hills in the distance were draped in a pale blue mist, and there was a thick dew on the grass. I ate a light breakfast of homemade marmalade (with mandarin oranges from the estate.) Edd didn't because there was no wheetabix.

There are many things you don't want to happen when you are about to climb a hill in the height of the Indian summer. One of the main ones is for the sole detach from your walking boot to fall off, and another one is that you didn't take your hat on holiday (despite the fact your grandfather reminded you to do so.) However, our wonderful hosts Meena and Ravi realised my predicament. They leant me a pair of walking shoes (that fitted well with the extra thick socks which are essential for 35 degree heat) and most importantly a hat- that unlike all the ones I own managed to both be stylish and practical. 

Girish the estate manager had persuaded an unwilling trekking guide to take us on a tour despite there being only two of us. He and Rakesh (Meena and Ravis driver) gave us a lift the Iruppu falls, which is the starting point for the trek into the Brahmagiri hills. These hills draw the boundary line between the states of Karnataka and Kerala. The grass on the top of the hills are scorched a brown purple colour at this time of year by the sun. By a strange coincidence this looks a similar colour to Scottish heather, and I suspect is one reason this area is called the Scotland of India. 

We began the trek by walking into the forest which carpeted three quarters of the hills, with only the peak rising cleanly above the tree line. Unfortunately in this area you need a guide. Our guide was a slight man called Gomi, he looked very much like he might have come from one of the local tribes, many of which are now employed by the Indian government to work in the national forests; however, he didn't speak much English so we never really got to that level of conversation. What we did get was the distinct sense that Gommi was very concerned about what was round the next corner. Each edge of the track was approached cautiously. He slowly edged his weight onto his front foot and leaned as much of his body round as possible around whilst keeping his back foot firmly planted on the ground- ready to retreat at any moment. We never did learn exactly what he was looking for. However, given the warning signs at the beginning of the park, it could easily have been things to eat us (leopard or tiger)chase us (wild elephants) or in the classic version of Indian wild animal cluedo poison us (the Cobra.)  Despite Gommi's caution no wild animals appeared, and we raced the rising temperature to the top of the Brahamagiri hill range. 

Climbing was sweaty and hot. Edd employed various motivational tactics to keep me walking. One was farting with such intensity that all living things immediately felt the need to leave the vicinity, and the second was comparing me to an African elephant as I lumbered up another bit of the trail. (African elephants are bigger than Indian elephants apparently...)

We finally reached the jungle lodge at the top of the hill. It was a low blue building, which had one strong architectural feature, and that was a strange crumpling effect of a window near the front porch, which unnervingly looked like an elephant had decided to sit on it. We had our lunch, which was a feast of paratha and spiced potato. 

We then began the descent, at which pint Edd developed a strong depression that this was not a mountain bike holiday, and he had no bike with him to carry him down the 'rad' trail of the mountain. 

After drinking many litres of water we reached the bottom, and cooled off by sitting and watching the waterfall.

We then headed back to more excellent cooking from Meena and Devchand the cook. Ravi and Meena have lived all over the world, and we spent a long time discussing world politics with them late into the night.

Onwards to Coorg

We scrambled around in the morning to buy a last few things from Mysore. I was tempted to buy a wooden picture, which seemed to have Jesus clothed in tiger skins officiating  at the last supper. But despite the unique kitsch attraction of this object I couldnt quite face lugging it around India. 

For the next step of the adventure we are heading out to Coorg (Kodagu). This is a coffee growing hillstation close to Mysore, with the western gnats running up the middle like a spine. The area is famous for its homestays on platations, which are set amongst the hills of the region. 

We were off to stay at Turtlepond, which is a coffe plantation near Kutta in the south, only a handful of kilometres from the Kerala border.  The region is famous for its homestays, and Turtlepond is one of these.  We were about to embark on a epic local bus journey when Meena who runs the estate offered to give us a lift from Mysore. We met Meena and her husband Ravi in Hotel Metropole, a beautiful old heritage hotel, for  coffee before we headed out on the journey to coorg.

Mysore is a couple of hours from Coorg, and very excitingly we had to drive through the Nagarhole national park to get there. All eyes were peeled as we headed through in the hope of seeing a tiger or a wild elephant. One thing is for certain the tigers round here are well fed, we saw so many deer! The deer look a little bit like Bambi, with plenty of spots, and are surprisingly well camouflaged.

Just as we were about to leave the national park we rounded the corner to find a line of elephants marching along the side of the road. The presence of the mahouts soon confirmed these were not wild. In fact the elephants were carrying bundles of branches in their trunks (apparently this was their evening meal.)

We arrived at the estate to find we were being upgraded from the wonderful little Estonian huts to a beautiful room overlooking the plantation. Meena and Ravi took us on a tour around the estate, and we saw lemongrass, pepper trees, jack fruit, bettal trees, and plenty of coffee. The evening finished off with a delicious dinner on the veranda, with the fireflies intermittently dancing outside. 

I have had a beer and now want to drive a tuk tuk..

I woke up at the dawn call to prayer, which echoed across the city from the nearby mosque. I went straight back to sleep, but woke again an hour later to Edd's complaints that the BMW I8 literature he had bought with him was all copywriters bullshit, and there was hardly any technical specifications-(well who would have guessed that!?). 

We then went out for a brekafast of idilis which are Indian rice cakes with a coconut sauce that looks a bit like porridge, with a serving next to them of what only can be described as green (very tasty) gunge. 

After this morning feast Edd was keen to do some exercise, so we then took a tuk tuk to the edge of the town to climb the 1000 pilgrim steps to the top of a hill and a temple. In front of us a devout hindu lady bent to place two spots of colour on each step, whilst her husband walked in front of her palpably annoyed at her slowness, and intermittently playing loud music from his iphone, which led to quite a lot of glowering and increased slowness from the lady in question. We left them to a brewing domestic, and continued up the hill past a couple of monkeys, and a rock carved into the shape of a bull and garlanded in jasmine flowers. 

The temple at the top was surrounded by a market. There seemed to be a very blurred line between these two establishments. The devout bought coconuts and jasmine flowers for the gods at the market, before taking them to the corner of the temple labelled 'coconut smashing area', and then presenting the remains at the alter.

We then headed back to the town for a bit of shopping.  We wondered round the market, which has been in the same place for the last three hundred years. Not much has changed, and the narrow alleyways contained overflowing vegetable, flower, and perfume shops-as well as corners for knife sharpening and jewellery. 

Edd had definitely bought more clothes with him than I had so I persuaded him to go shopping. We spotted some really cool maxi dresses in one of the windows. I spent quite a while finding the right colour, and was just asking the sales girl whether there was a local tailor that I could tailor it, when her colleague dropped a bomb shell that this item of clothing was in fact a nightie. I eventually ended up with a green tunic and leggings, this was nothing short of a miracle after what Edd was doing to the shop mannequins.

We finished off the day with a drink at a rooftop bar in one of the smarter hotels (definitely not the one we were staying in.) On the way back the tuk tuk driver made the mistake of leaving the vehicle for a minute to get some change. I turned round to find Edd playing with the tuk tuk controls. Apparently he had 'had a beer and now wanted to drive a tuk tuk.' Fortunately for all concerned the tuk tuk driver reappeared at this moment...

Sent from my iPad

Sent from my iPad

An elephant sized adventure

For all concerned about the fate of the nivea- it fortunately appeared just before we left- from the depths of a cycling bag.

We landed in Bangalore at 4.30am. It would have been sensible to have tried to sleep on the flight, but watching the latest James Bond and stockpiling large amounts of gin and tonic proved too tempting. (We now have 200ml of gin and a tiny bit of tonic- but we're yet to find the crucial fridge.)

We then found a  local bus, and went first to the sattelite bus station in Bangalore, and then onwards to Mysore. We are being profligate with our money and chose air conditioned class for the four hour bus journey. This came to the pricely sum of roughly £2.50 ticket- (non aircon was £1.70.)

It was an enormous relief to reach the hotel- and more importantly a shower. It is seriously hot here-35c according to my phone.After a short nap, and a decent wash we headed out to find some food. Im a fairly messy eater at the best of times, but eating  rice, vegetable curry and dahl with my fingers proved to be a disastrous business. It wasn't long before I was wearing quite a bit of it. Bright splashes of yellow dahl all down your front isnt a fashion look I'd recommend. The restaurants seem to all serve lunch off banana leaves, which certainly saves the washing up! 

Trying not to fall asleep was the goal for the rest of the afternoon- so we headed off to the palace. This was rebuilt in the late 19th after a fire decimated the previous one. It was stunning involving stained glass windows, plenty of colours, murals, and steel from the glasgow steel works! To go into the palace you had to take your shoes off, which was fine until you stepped off the carpet onto the paving slabs, which had been baked by the sun to a searing temperature. 

We then wondered round the corner and found the marharajas elephants. There was a brief debate about whether it was ethical to pay for a ride on them, before happily parting with 100 ruppees (94p) to climb aboard. It was surprsingly uncomfortable, and the gait felt quite sharp. I wouldn't have liked to ride into battle or try to shoot a tiger from one- I don't understand how you could have a steady hand. However, elephants are super cool, and Edd now wants one. 

Edd has been a great hit with the locals, Im not sure whether it is the bushy sideburns, or the flurescent yellow shorts, but everyone wants their picture taken with him. To be honest it might not just be Edd western tourists seem to be a bit of a novelty in themselves- even half way through day two, we have still only seen three others.

The temperature after four o'clock became a lot more bearable. We ambled around the palace grounds and the nearby streets for quite a bit. One comment 'where do you think the elephants live?' Gave us a new purpose and we rapidly turned from elephant groupies into superfans- and began the hunt for elephant stables. Just as the dusk was setting in we managed to (sort of) inadvertently walk past a security guard, and then found the elephants stabled- under a big dutch barn. The mahoot beckoned us over and we got to pat and talk to the elephants again. They were having a large supper of green rushes. The mahoot then suggested we ride one of the elephants. On command the elephant knelt and we climbed up behind his ears. On your own without a harness it felt a very long way up- fortunately we weren't about to gallop off into the sunset as the elephant was chained to a nearby concrete block. 

We then headed back to the palace  to see it lit up. It is only lit up on festivals and sunday evenings, and is covered in thousands of small light bulbs. I have tried many times to upload a picture here, but unfortunately the techonology has beaten me- but I have managed to upload a picture of it (and some other pictures) to this website if you would like to see it: https://www.instagram.com/flurrywight/

Having decided the palace looked a little bit like disneyland we headed back finally to bed- it felt like a very long day!

Packing...

It is 2.5 hours before we head off to heathrow, Edd has just started packing. Luckily he has written himself a list. The latest autocar magazine is the third item on it (after passport and ipad) but far above the clothes and black shoe polish (!?).

We fly out at 2.25pm. I can just about believe we're flying to India today, but am struggling to fathom that I'm going on holiday by a means of transport that doesnt't involve getting up before dawn.

Update: Packing seems to have been halted for the moment by the absense of a tub of nivea. Things are heading downhill quickly- Im being accused of hiding it. Luckily he has found a BMW I8 brochure, which also seems to now be joining us for the holiday, possibly in the place of the nivea.

We land in Bangalore at 4.00am tomorrow morning. Apparently the name Bangalore translates as 'town of boiled beans'. Sounds promising for breakfast- although not sure how Edd is going to cope without his cereal.

The nivea crisis is developing and Edd has asked me to make note of the fact he is now EXTREMELY unhappy that he cant find his pot of nivea. Although he has at least now reached the point of  folding the clothes and muttering he is employing 'great cunning' in his packing technique.

When we land we are going to hopefully catch a train to Mysore- which is about 3 hours away from Bangalore, its going to be a long day- especially if Edd can't find his Nivea.

Sequels are always tricky, sadly I struggled to find an Indian animal with as much -erm unique-charisma and ubiquity as a llama. (Although considering how sick of Llamas I was by the end of south america blog maybe that is a good thing. ) My greatest inspiration for travel writing is Harry Horse (if you havent read the last of the polar bears-you haven't lived). I considered writing up an expedition along the lines of in search of the wild Corgis. (We are off to the region of Coorg-where Im convinced Corgis must have come from.) But given the recent visit of William and Kate to the region I think they might have surreptitiously ticked that box. (Although I think there are parallels between the dog Ru and Edd...)  Mum suggested Tiger Lily and the lost boy, unfortunately on closer inspection Tiger Lily was american indian, which is a little confusing...

Anyway packing is almost done. Edd thinks the Nivea may have been left in Somerset, and we are almost ready for the off...