Tom's India Excursion

The beach resort of Varkala is on the southern coast of Kerala. It was here that we hoped to catch up on rest, laze around and enjoy the beaches social life.

Beach, Varkala

Varkala is formed of two beaches, one lush golden sandy beach and the other, 'black beach', covered in black sand. Bars and restaurants littered the cliff top and it was the first beach resort i'd seen since Goa. We spent our days swimming, asleep on the beach or drinking in bars.

black beach, Varkala

The social spot in Varkala is 'The funky art cafe', which gained popularity though its huge drink list. One drunken night we hooked up with a group of welsh girls also trying every drink on the menu. We ended up dancing the night away in one of the clubs/bars. The girls had brought their ipod and where blasting out Pendualem (drum and base). I remember a German bloke doing the 'Roboto' and some of the girls riding a wooden horse. All in all the makings of a good night.

Welsh girls, Varkala

German national dance? Varkala

The plan was to head to Thiruvananthapuram (thats a real place!) to catch our flight on the friday to Sri lanka. After checking into the hotel though we saw a news report saying there had been an attack on Columbo international airport. The rebels (the Tamil Tigers) in the north of the island had lauched an attack on the airport, forcing it to be closed!

We left the heat of Kochi for the cool of Munnar in Western Ghats, about 160km inland.

The drive in was excellent. It was the first time I'd used public buses and I decided I like it. The buses themselves have monster trucks style wheels and no windows, so the cool air filters through the smell of sweat from the seemingly endless number of people that manage to fit on.

Tea plantation, Munnar

The area surrounding Munnar is covered with tea plantations as far as you can see. Me and Paul headed up a dirty track road to Top Station and view was immense. From there you can see into the next state, Tamil Nadu and across the Western Ghats mountain range all covered with Tea trees.

Me at the top, Top Station

Temple Festival, Kumily

After catching another monster truck south to Kumily to see the famous wildlife park we randomly ran into the local temple festival. The streets were filled with decorate people, some holding pot plants on their heads, some with 3ft spikes though their cheeks while holding a large wooden pyramid above their heads. The whole festival was mad, everyone acting as if they were on LSD. I loved it, such a happy atmosphere, all the locals joining in with the songs and encouraging the tourists to get involved.

The next day we got up and headed for the wildlife park. When we got there it was busy with Indian tourists and we were told to walk 3km to the boat jetty for the safari, or at least that what we thought. It was half way down and after many cars of Indian tourists had passed shouting and cheering before we noticed why, a sign in front of us saying 'Tiger Land - No horn', we bricked it and flagged down the next car. After our near suicide we didn’t see much more than a warthog!

Wildlife park, Kumily

Kollam, on the coast 100 clicks south of Kumily is popular for its backwaters, a strange set of islands linked by natural canals. Our guide for the day was Sámi, a 27 year old part time teacher who showed us the locals way of life. The locals live much like they have for hundreds of years using every part of the natural resources to build ships, make oil from coconuts and rope from their shells.

Sami and our 'pusher', Kollam

Sámi was a bit of a legend and often burst out into random song joined by our boat driver, i say driver i mean 'pusher' like the ones you see in Venice. As myself and Paul took as many pictures as we could Sámi wrote a lesson plan under the cover of an umbrella and began to tell us a story of a battle fought between the local communist factions. During one raid the opposition had stapled a guy to a tree with an arrow and cut off his hand! It was easy to see why people fought over this land, it was something out of a story book.

Coconuts drying, Kollam

Backwaters, Kollam

The next installment will come from Varkala were we're hoping to chill out, get involved with the beach life and get a room with a TV for the Champions League matches!

Having got a 14 hour train we arrived in Kochi in the heart of Kerala.

We stayed in Fort Cochin, a tourist area perfect for exploring the local area and also surrounded by iconic giant Chinese fishing nets. The local sites included Santa Cruz Basilica, St Francis Church and a centre for the traditional local dance, Kathakali.

Chinese fishing nets, Fort Cochin

We signed up to the evening showing and from what we'd heard it was not to be missed. The show was formed of two drummers, two actors and one narrator / singer. The actors were decorated in extravagant make-up and commutated using intricate and complex hand signals. The main form of expressions came from the actor’s enthusiastic facial movements and drummers beat.

Dancer putting on make up, Fort Cochin

After an hour of the show my arse was numb and due to the complexity of the performance I wasn't really following the story. That’s not to say that it wasn't interesting. That night’s story was an ancient story of love. The king falls in love with a beautiful girl but she is unsure whether to marry him. The king upset orders her to be his wife at which point the girl has had enough, goes crazy and the King chops off her breasts - Classic!

The King, Kerala traditional dance

The next day me and Paul decided to explore Fort Cochin and after an hour in the midday sun we were lost. I was getting more bewildered by the growing number of Communist 'hammer & sickle' symbols and after reading the guide book discovered that Kerala was the first freely elected Communist State. With this knowledge in mind I set out to ask one of my fellow comrades for directions. I found a group of them hanging about a jetty (probably plotting their next move) and when they saw me they all froze. 'I’m looking for Jew town' i said hopefully, two men came over and direct me back to the main road while the other two wave franticly at a boat approaching the jetty. '3km down this road' one points and the other asks in a lower tone 'how much hash you want?' After walking away I wasn’t sure whether we had disturbed a drug deal or used the code word 'Jew town' to start one, either way we found our way.

Communist 'Hammar and Sickle', Fort Cochin

Later we found the world heritage site, Mattancherry Palace, a present to the local king from the Portuguese which has amazing 400 year old graphics. With Kochi exhausted we head next to the cool of the mountains in Mummur.

Dance Stage, Big chill 07

Just coming to the end of an awesome 4 days in Northern Goa. After an early start from Panjim me and Paul travel north to Arambol which acts as a base for the 'Big Chill' Festival.

Arambol is beautiful, everything you'd expect from a Goan beach resort. From my room at the Blue Finn on the north end of the bay i have a unbelieveable view of the beach. A thick forest of palm trees lines the shore, restaurants and shacks litter the beach and the water itself is perfectly warm.

The Blue Finn

The best decision i've ever made was in Arambol. To hire scooters! After a shakie start were cruising the bumby back streets of Goa. I suddenly identify with all those spotty 16yr olds outside 'Maccie D's'. We spend hours racing around, stopping at deserted beaches and soaking up the atmosphere. For the price of a cheap pint in the UK (Rs 150) its well worth investing!

Main stage, Big Chill 07

The Big Chill lasted 2 days, over three stages. The first thing that struck me was the amount of effort that went into the aesthetics. The main stage area was overflowing with every colour you could think off and elaborate 5ft wicker men climbing the palm trees. Some of the musical highlights included Hexstatic, Tom Middleton and Coldcut.

Hexstatic, Big Chill 07

Fire dancers, Big Chill 07

On our final day in Goa me, Paul and Nic (a guy we met at the Big Chill) formed a motorcycle gang and ride the 10 miles to Permen. On the way back Nic took a speed bump too quickly and wiped out. He joined the many other tourists we'd seen over the last few days with bandages from scooter injuries.

All in all i've loved the little part of Goa ive seen, the festival was much needed and much enjoyed. I've vowed to return! Tonight we head to Kochi, in the heart of Kerala

The bus for Goa left a 8pm from Mumbai and found myself chatting to three very entertaining english folk, George, her husband and stewie, kept me company throughout.

4 hours in and disaster, the bus breaks down and we're told that we need a volvo mechanic to fix it. We hold out 4 hours for the replacement by discussing random stuff and playing cards. Once the new bus has arrived i slept like a log until the outskirts of Goa where our new bus suffered a flat tire. We reach northern Goa around 4pm (20 hrs in total!!)and i take the first stop as the smell of sweat is getting to much. My clever move proved false as i realised after some lengthy discussion with the locals, involving mostly nods and hand signals, that i am in fact 10 miles north of Panaji the captial.

After some confusion i meet up with the family Paul (a friend from uni) had set us up with. The family were more than welcoming, as i entered their living room the father stood up and offered me his chair and the mother fussed other me like i was her own while the children looted my bag. To my surprise one of the daugthers, Janet, spoke perfect english and after showing me up stairs offered to walk me into town. I chatted to Janet as if we had none each other for years and i think she enjoyed the english practice. She left me in the centre of town at the stunning Church of Our Lady of the Immaculate Concecption (thats Mary to you and me).

My first impressions is that Goan's lead a pretty sweet life, Panaji itself has a general chilled out vibe. A mixture of Portuguese and British influence can been seen, heared and tasted in the architecture, language and restaurants

After frustrating myself at Manchester Airports automatic information desk which had limitless options of shops and food outlets all closed i boarded NWA 34 to Mumbai.

Map to India

The 14 hr plane journey was broken up by a stop in Amsterdam and a selection of flims, leo's latest 'Blood Diamond' being one of the better ones. The taxi to the hotel was awesome, a break neck speed chase though the city where the laws of the road have been replaced by the law of the horn. Whoever beeps the most wins! My driver was a born natural and by the end had developed a mild horn tourettes, wildly beeping even when there were no cars. As we neared the centre of the city I noticed people on the streets. Thousands and thousands of men, women and mostly children roaming and sleeping the streets. I'd heard of this and seen it first hand in Egypt but the shear number was upsetting.

The iconic Gateway to India

Ive spent the morning walking to all the tourist spots, Gateway of India and other sites up and down Mahatma Gandhi Road, sheltering from the heat in the Modern Art Gallery. This is when it happened, what i've named the funeral scam. A man approached offering me a unique experience, a 30 minute festival that occured only once a year. My problem was he had something i had wanted all day, the location of a toilet. I played along and im soon begging for its whereabouts, the nearest being 500mts! The site of a Indian public toilet is enough to make the strongest men vomit, but right then to me it was a holy shrine. After my unplesent experience we got chatting and soon we entered a temple wear bodies were burned. I was told a story about the method of burning and handling of the remains, this appeared believable enough but then came the sting. After showing me where the babies were buried i was asked to make a donation, i offered 20 rupees, the man asked for at least $1000, i almost laughed. After much arguing i left making no donation.

On the whole my experience of Mumbai has been a good one although poverty and scams are rife. Tonight i head to Goa by bus

After months of counting the days it finally time to go. I’m upset to say goodbye to all my mates and colleges (the out of date condoms and financial support went down well this weekend thank you!!). I spent most of the weekend drinking and see old Uni folk in Exeter, Cardiff and Trowbridge.

This picture pretty much sums up the weekend

Rest assured I’m paying for it. Now drinking tea in Manchester Airport at stupid o’clock and attempting to digest as much lonely planet as I can. The combination of hangover head and last minute swotting is reminding me of my student days. I will attempt to update regularly on all my cappers.

Keep in touch

Tom