Awake at 10am wrapped in my clean down duvet. I try to wake the boys gently, allowing light into the room, by opening a few of the large shuttered windows. We have our last hot showers for a while. Peter gets up and we all pack our bags for a slightly delayed checkout. As Ian and Peter pay the bill I meet an Indian gentleman that I saw a couple of times in the Qualithe bar. We chat and I discover he owns one of the main wind turbine manufacturing companies. He is disheartened by the Indian system and explains some of the difficulties of doing business in India. Its not the first time I hear his type of story.
We head to Le Café for a light breakfast. The heat is extra humid after two days in a/c living. Ian tries to order the butter and cheese baguette with extra chicken and they end giving him two baguettes. One as we are about to leave. The watch the waiter pocket the adjusted bill amount straight into is pocket. We get a rickshaw to the government bus stand. After 20 minutes or so walking around inquiring, we find the best route is to Kodai is through Dindugal and not Mudrai. This is one of those generic India lessons. Knowing how and what to ask for. This will saves us five to six hours of travel and hassle. We book the 7 hour journey, non a/c, with two sleepers and one non-sleeper for 300rps each approx. We jump into a rickshaw to checkout a clothes branded factory outlet, back in the city. We arrive into the ice chilled shop and the prices range to a tenth of the Irish cost. G Star, Diesel, Zara, Tommy Hilfiger and more line the shelves. Unfortunately the clothes styles are far more suitable for the Irish climate and will only add to our already heavy backpack loads.
We walk back through the city. We visit a temple that is surrounded with small shops and stalls selling wares of all kinds. We joke at buying swastika stickers for our bags. We decide to spend the remainder of our wait in Coffee.com using the internet and watching a movie in their projector room. We choose, Munich. The screen is at least 20 feet across and the impeccable a/c room has large bean bags to melt in to. Well Ian's bag is meltable, myself and Peters are smaller and less flexible. The movie leaves me a little on edge. It brings up a recurring thought as I have traveled India. Ignorance. That of course being my own. Not knowing about the religion and culture of other countries. Once again seen how it affects so many people lives. India is so filled with religion, every where you turn. The movie shows how people justify their actions because of religion. Strange world we live in. I still believe the core message of all religion is love. This I argued strongly with Aidan in Hampi. Nevertheless, Aidan's counter argument is shown in Munich and every where you turn in India.
With 40 minutes to spare we raced to Pizza hut around the corner, jumped into a rickshaw, collected our bags at the Dupleix and sped to the bus stand. The rickshaw broke down on route. We looked at each other anxiously. It started again and broke down in the middle of a main junction. The driver pushed it to the side of the road. We jumped out and ran sweating down the road to our awaiting bus. We jumped on board pumping sweat. Ian and Peter seemed to have laid themselves a sweet deal. There sleeper bunks where a curtain of double at the end of the bus. I rested into my surprisingly cosy semi and relaxed as the bus drove out of the city. My attention was kept as we passed the out skirting street of Pondicherry. A hive of activity alive every where you looked. Street vendors lit by an arrangement of florescent tubing, gas lights or candles worked away as we drove by. India is truly and amazing place and so are its people. Westerners and there way of life is meek in comparison. The coach picked up speed got further outside the city. The next five hours was a forty foot racing over a dirt track. Ian and Peter being continuously launched into the air from their soft beds. Your bones and teeth jolting and chattering together. There was no sleep on this journey, well for us anyway. Indians lay around me deep in slumber. An hour after departing my bladder began to call. Thankfully at 2am we had a pit stop.
Showing posts with label hotel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hotel. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Monday, July 14, 2008
Day 28 -Sunday - Pondicherry
Awoke at 10am. Started working on Picasa and blog immediately. Wanted to leave the guys to rest as much as possible. Ian got up around 12.30 and Peter arose at around 2pm. We ordered coffee and followed this with a simple collection of sandwiches. Aidan and Greg joint arrived next with ideas of where to go next. A suggestion of heading to the tip of India was put out there. Ian and Peter had already come to a decision of staying another night to play some more. I agreed another night on the soft cold white bed linen, pillows, duvet and mattress might be an acceptable idea. Best nights sleep I had since arriving in India. We agreed we'd look into the our next location over the next hour. Greg and Aidan headed off to check buses. Eoghan arrived as one sandwich we had ordered, an hour earlier, arrived. We rang down and reconfirmed the order. Confusion ensued. Reorder the sandwiches with one for Eoghan. Ian did some travel book and internet research. Kodaikanal seemed like a good location to head to next. A mountainous scenic area at over 2000 metres. We relayed this to Aidan and Greg when we saw them again.
Spent the rest of the day relaxing, sleeping, reading on the private entrance balcony. The Coco swinging bed was a luxury. Eoghan came back again as we ordered coffee and cakes. Tough life at times. Aidan returned to tell us they had booked a bus to Mudrai and they were going to head to Kodaikanal and see what they were going to do from there. We agreed to meet the day after. The boys headed off to pack so I myself and Peter joint shortly afterwards to collect our rucksacks from the Qualithe.
We ordered dinner when we got back. Ian and Peter happily got to order the lamb. I went for a chef's recommended curry. Ian decided on a bottle of red wine. We were brought for different wines in small glasses to taste from. They were all chilled. We tried to explain this to the staff although we were speaking a different language. We asked for an Indian Cabernet Shiraz from the shelf. Eoghan reappeared just in time to order grilled sandwiches in time before getting the bus. The food all arrived just after nine. One hour after ordering and 20 minutes before the private bus to Mudrai. The lads were not impressed. The lamb was cold, although due to hunger and a lack of faith in the issue being resolved, in any form of timely manner, ate the food. The curry I ate was warm, rice cold. The red wine was remarkably good. Aidan, Greg and Eoghan bid us farwell with hugs and smiles all round.
The wine went down a treat. Ian and Peter ordered a cheese platter with a collection of fruits. I ordered the chocolate mousse. The small chunks of cheese were delivered on a bed of chopped lettuce and half the fruits listed, with no crackers. They called for the manager to complain. He said that he thought they wanted the cheese as a dessert and that's why the bed of lettuce was used. Perhaps a famous Indian tradition. Ian very diplomatically explained what he thought of the hotels food service since they arrived. The man was incredibly apologetic and agreed with all the faults. He offered the replacement desserts that he made himself and a bottle of the same wine as a peace offering. It was very acceptable. The wine that is. We spent the next fews hours lounging in a world far from any India I had ever imagined. Perhaps something I had seen in a movie. It was just what the doctor ordered. Boys finished off the evening playing some poker and me to my blog and Picasa. I finally fell asleep at 3 or so in the morning.
Spent the rest of the day relaxing, sleeping, reading on the private entrance balcony. The Coco swinging bed was a luxury. Eoghan came back again as we ordered coffee and cakes. Tough life at times. Aidan returned to tell us they had booked a bus to Mudrai and they were going to head to Kodaikanal and see what they were going to do from there. We agreed to meet the day after. The boys headed off to pack so I myself and Peter joint shortly afterwards to collect our rucksacks from the Qualithe.
We ordered dinner when we got back. Ian and Peter happily got to order the lamb. I went for a chef's recommended curry. Ian decided on a bottle of red wine. We were brought for different wines in small glasses to taste from. They were all chilled. We tried to explain this to the staff although we were speaking a different language. We asked for an Indian Cabernet Shiraz from the shelf. Eoghan reappeared just in time to order grilled sandwiches in time before getting the bus. The food all arrived just after nine. One hour after ordering and 20 minutes before the private bus to Mudrai. The lads were not impressed. The lamb was cold, although due to hunger and a lack of faith in the issue being resolved, in any form of timely manner, ate the food. The curry I ate was warm, rice cold. The red wine was remarkably good. Aidan, Greg and Eoghan bid us farwell with hugs and smiles all round.
The wine went down a treat. Ian and Peter ordered a cheese platter with a collection of fruits. I ordered the chocolate mousse. The small chunks of cheese were delivered on a bed of chopped lettuce and half the fruits listed, with no crackers. They called for the manager to complain. He said that he thought they wanted the cheese as a dessert and that's why the bed of lettuce was used. Perhaps a famous Indian tradition. Ian very diplomatically explained what he thought of the hotels food service since they arrived. The man was incredibly apologetic and agreed with all the faults. He offered the replacement desserts that he made himself and a bottle of the same wine as a peace offering. It was very acceptable. The wine that is. We spent the next fews hours lounging in a world far from any India I had ever imagined. Perhaps something I had seen in a movie. It was just what the doctor ordered. Boys finished off the evening playing some poker and me to my blog and Picasa. I finally fell asleep at 3 or so in the morning.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Back to Pondicherry - Day 27 - Saturday
Awoke and was up and out by 8. Guess what? Yes. Swung in the hammock with my book. Greg, the lazy bollocks, got up around 10. Headed to breakfast in our favourite place, well my mine. We got back, packed our bags and waited for the government bus to Pudu. Bus flew threw the streets blairing it horn and doing it usual miracle of not killing 50 people. Arrived in no time at all. Jumped off before the terminus and walked to the Qualithe. The boys were only getting up. Ian who had being sick for the past two days had already headed around to the Coffee.com to catch up on their game play. I headed around with Greg. Before going in I changed some money and paid Greg the money to replace the camera. To say he brightened up was an understatement.
The boys wanted to catch up on their game play so they were considering booking into a hotel for the night. We decide to get lunch in Pizza Hut. Meet Aidan and Eoghan on the bike. They join us. Gold Card special meal of three pizzas, 6 drinks and garlic bread. The boys find a hotel around the corner called Le Dupleix. A boutique hotel that is rather grand and very elegant with a large three growing in the centre of the foyer. We wait outside as they check out the penthouse/honeymoon suite. They take the somewhat pricey room with a hefty extra charge so they can sleep in late the next day. From a backpackers POV (point of view) it is beyond insanity. If your profession is card playing, it is simple maths. Head space to earn your living, with your resources being a fraction of your earning. Logic.
Eoghan and I get the grand tour. The room is evocative, opulent and rather OTT. It has being explained to the boys the furniture is CoCo Chanel originals. Much of the dark mahogany furniture has being fully restored. The room is masterful in stature and ingenuity of space saving techniques. Its crammed. Not at all what you'd expect to pay for the price on the surface. You have to appreciate the quality. If that's your sort of thing. I think one of the main reasons the boys choose this place was its convenience. Good location and has the WiFi. For non-techies. Wireless Internet. There is a third bed/TV area on a mezzanine sort affair above the screen doored toilet and separate bathroom. The room is chilled nicely and rather impressive decked balcony juts out which is accessed through large shuttered french doors. A large leafy tree over shades two wooden loungers, over looking the street below. Its a cool little paradise available at a very very modest European price. A private outdoor reading area, with loungers and swinging coco mattress bed, accompanies the entrance to the room. When else do you get a chance to live it up like that.
Ian offered the spare bed, if I'd like to stay and I gratefully accepted. The boys retired to the room for the evening and I joint the lads downstairs for in the classy restaurant for dinner. We were given a table after one hour waiting and having to remind them twice we were there. The menu was impressive. My meal was served fridge cold. The boys food was tepid so they wolfed it down. They took mine back and returned with after the lads finished their meal. The sauce was burnt it to the plate. I didn't complain again. What was the point? We ate a collection of desserts. Quite tasty. Knocked back some beers at 150rps per bottle. Headed up to the room. The lads had not got served until a moment ago. Reception had forgotten to brig the menus. An hour after they did the Lamb and Steaks were gone. They ended up with lasagna and an ice cold starter. They were not impressed. The boys left shortly. I headed up and caught up on blogging and uploading photos on Picasa. It was 4am before I went to sleep. Ian was asleep over an hour and Peter was still sitting, in the dark, at the virtual poker tables online.
The boys wanted to catch up on their game play so they were considering booking into a hotel for the night. We decide to get lunch in Pizza Hut. Meet Aidan and Eoghan on the bike. They join us. Gold Card special meal of three pizzas, 6 drinks and garlic bread. The boys find a hotel around the corner called Le Dupleix. A boutique hotel that is rather grand and very elegant with a large three growing in the centre of the foyer. We wait outside as they check out the penthouse/honeymoon suite. They take the somewhat pricey room with a hefty extra charge so they can sleep in late the next day. From a backpackers POV (point of view) it is beyond insanity. If your profession is card playing, it is simple maths. Head space to earn your living, with your resources being a fraction of your earning. Logic.
Eoghan and I get the grand tour. The room is evocative, opulent and rather OTT. It has being explained to the boys the furniture is CoCo Chanel originals. Much of the dark mahogany furniture has being fully restored. The room is masterful in stature and ingenuity of space saving techniques. Its crammed. Not at all what you'd expect to pay for the price on the surface. You have to appreciate the quality. If that's your sort of thing. I think one of the main reasons the boys choose this place was its convenience. Good location and has the WiFi. For non-techies. Wireless Internet. There is a third bed/TV area on a mezzanine sort affair above the screen doored toilet and separate bathroom. The room is chilled nicely and rather impressive decked balcony juts out which is accessed through large shuttered french doors. A large leafy tree over shades two wooden loungers, over looking the street below. Its a cool little paradise available at a very very modest European price. A private outdoor reading area, with loungers and swinging coco mattress bed, accompanies the entrance to the room. When else do you get a chance to live it up like that.
Ian offered the spare bed, if I'd like to stay and I gratefully accepted. The boys retired to the room for the evening and I joint the lads downstairs for in the classy restaurant for dinner. We were given a table after one hour waiting and having to remind them twice we were there. The menu was impressive. My meal was served fridge cold. The boys food was tepid so they wolfed it down. They took mine back and returned with after the lads finished their meal. The sauce was burnt it to the plate. I didn't complain again. What was the point? We ate a collection of desserts. Quite tasty. Knocked back some beers at 150rps per bottle. Headed up to the room. The lads had not got served until a moment ago. Reception had forgotten to brig the menus. An hour after they did the Lamb and Steaks were gone. They ended up with lasagna and an ice cold starter. They were not impressed. The boys left shortly. I headed up and caught up on blogging and uploading photos on Picasa. It was 4am before I went to sleep. Ian was asleep over an hour and Peter was still sitting, in the dark, at the virtual poker tables online.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
A little bit of France - Day 23 - Tuesday - Pondicherry
Wake up at nine and call in to see if Ian or Greg are awake. Greg is sitting up in bed and Ian is lying down on his belly. That being his own belly and not Greg's. I head down to the Internet Café to upload photos with Picasa. The power goes so I leave before getting anything done.
Myself and Greg go for breakfast. The power goes again. We get served the most delicious coffee. Not. We meet Ian as we are walking back. He wonders where we had disappeared to. We meet the rest of the lads apart from Peter who is comatose back in the room. Greg heads back to get some packing done before we leave. I leave Ian, Eoghan and Aidan to get breakfast as I go to the beach to do a ritual.
The beach is lined with fishing boats and men as they prepare nets and stock for their days catches. A swarm of horseflies play and dance in the warm breeze. As I walk back up the main street I'm stopped by a smiling Indian gentleman that tells me, “Jesus love me”. I call around to Swamiji to let him know we are heading off and ask him if he needs some help with the internet. Myself and Swamiji arrive and the power is gone again. I go to my room and collect my bags. Upon my return the power is back.
We get some internet stuff done and I find out that Swamiji is also know as Saswot. The rest of the gang gather in the internet cafe and wait for me before we leave. The owner of the guest house organises a rickshaw for the six of us and all our bags. I'm looking forward to seeing the size it.
As expected the rickshaw can not possibly fit all of us and our bags into it, even after the owner insisting it would. So in stubbornness and refusal to pay any more we all pile in. With the sardine arrangement perfected, the rickshaw driver then ask us to pay more. We argue as usual and agree to ten more rupees than agreed.
I can only imagine what it looks like. Something similar to the Simpsons sketch of the clowns getting out of the small car as 6 fairly tall lads and 12 bags and two guitars empty out at the bus stop. Locals stand around laughing at the sight of us.
A minute later we are all jumping onto the bus to Pondicherry, as he barely stops as we clamber on board. The bus is jammed with only Indian as the six whities block up what little space is left. After the usual array of gazes and glares the audience return to watching their movie. After a number of stops the majority of us get seats. Myself and Aidan sit in open the open doorways. One at the front and one at the back.
The views skirting by at speed. Fields, houses and villages. A large quantity of houses in India are totally painted by an advertiser. We think we have it bad in Ireland. Can you imagine your whole house being an advertisement for Massey Ferguson. I presume this helps people to survive. As we make our way along the coast I notice a Tsunami village built along the coast. I also notice a large quantity of fields far in from the coast which are covered in sand. At one stage, in the distance, I see to our right large domed hills of white. As we get closer I see they are salt fields. Men and women working away farming them, collecting the salt into smaller piles. The smaller piles are collected and then you have the large hills of salt. Something I've never seen before.
The bus passengers are either locked watching the movie or trying to catch some sleep. The film is like any fast action packed movie we see everyday. The hero is killing people left right and centre. Dropping motorbikes on some, shooting others and doing a variety of Matrix style martial art moves on others. Its quite ridiculous. A couple of times throughout the showing, the story stops and the main characters start doing a music video. Something similar to Austin Powers.
Two hours later the driver is bullying his way through the suburbs of Pondicherry. He's bloddy insane with near misses being the norm. Blaring his boat style horn to traffic as he drives down the wrong side of the road. We pull in alive to the main Pondicherry bus stand. As we disembark the driver continues to move along dropping us off in three groups. The terminus is insanity with buses racing through beeeping their horns. People scattered amongst this walking in every which way. The heat is a paltry 36 degrees or so. We collect together and stand on one of the piers to plan our journey into the city.
10 minutes later, after being driven through the streets of Pondicherry by a drunken lunatic, we arrive at Government Square. Himself and his drunken partner ask us for some more money for some booze. He illustrates this with the glug, glug, symbol of finger and thumb going up to his mouth. Myself and Eoghan walk away to the Qualithe Hotel around the corner.
All the boys are already there, sittting inside this old brown and cream walled, french colonial building. As Eoghan correctly mentioned its like something you'd see in an Irish pub with the old chairs and tables laid out as they are. We order a round of beers, soft drinks and water. A moment later we are joined by an old eccentic American man with busy hair and glasses. He starts conversing with Greg in French. Ten minutes later I chat to him and enjoy the rather insane chat we have.
Myself, Peter, Ian and Greg head off in search of accommodation. The French side of Pondicherry is clean and far from anything we have seen in India so far. The streets are laid out in a grid system of French named roads, lined with trees along the paths. The buildings are large impressive structures with small flowered gateways and colourful stepped entrances. After an hour or so our search seems futile with either places being full, too expensive or having a curfew of 10.30pm. The Ashram have a collection of places around the town that fall under the name of Aurobindo. These are peace havens that are for people looking for a place to stay where they can meditate and do yoga. The one I visited was beautiful inside. The place was spotless and the six bedded room I saw was spacious and modern and only cost 320rps for the room for the night.
An hour and half later we were back in the Qualithe with Aidan and Eoghan. We checked the rooms to find them to be more than acceptable, so we booked in for the night. We freshened up and I went about hanging my new hammock.
That night we ate in Le Space. Somewhere recommended by Glen and Will. After sitting down and Eoghan doing a small dance with the menu blackboard, we attracted the attention of a girl sitting beside us. Lisa was from Norway and she happily joined us at our table. A minute later we had three more girls come over and join us. A Canadian and two from the UK. The cocktails were the best I tasted in India so far. The food was delicious. The splitting headache I had was the only thing that took from the evening. After dinner I excused myself and headed back to the Hotel. With two paracetamols and half bottle of water inside me I lay down on the very short bed and fell asleep.
Myself and Greg go for breakfast. The power goes again. We get served the most delicious coffee. Not. We meet Ian as we are walking back. He wonders where we had disappeared to. We meet the rest of the lads apart from Peter who is comatose back in the room. Greg heads back to get some packing done before we leave. I leave Ian, Eoghan and Aidan to get breakfast as I go to the beach to do a ritual.
The beach is lined with fishing boats and men as they prepare nets and stock for their days catches. A swarm of horseflies play and dance in the warm breeze. As I walk back up the main street I'm stopped by a smiling Indian gentleman that tells me, “Jesus love me”. I call around to Swamiji to let him know we are heading off and ask him if he needs some help with the internet. Myself and Swamiji arrive and the power is gone again. I go to my room and collect my bags. Upon my return the power is back.
We get some internet stuff done and I find out that Swamiji is also know as Saswot. The rest of the gang gather in the internet cafe and wait for me before we leave. The owner of the guest house organises a rickshaw for the six of us and all our bags. I'm looking forward to seeing the size it.
As expected the rickshaw can not possibly fit all of us and our bags into it, even after the owner insisting it would. So in stubbornness and refusal to pay any more we all pile in. With the sardine arrangement perfected, the rickshaw driver then ask us to pay more. We argue as usual and agree to ten more rupees than agreed.
I can only imagine what it looks like. Something similar to the Simpsons sketch of the clowns getting out of the small car as 6 fairly tall lads and 12 bags and two guitars empty out at the bus stop. Locals stand around laughing at the sight of us.
A minute later we are all jumping onto the bus to Pondicherry, as he barely stops as we clamber on board. The bus is jammed with only Indian as the six whities block up what little space is left. After the usual array of gazes and glares the audience return to watching their movie. After a number of stops the majority of us get seats. Myself and Aidan sit in open the open doorways. One at the front and one at the back.
The views skirting by at speed. Fields, houses and villages. A large quantity of houses in India are totally painted by an advertiser. We think we have it bad in Ireland. Can you imagine your whole house being an advertisement for Massey Ferguson. I presume this helps people to survive. As we make our way along the coast I notice a Tsunami village built along the coast. I also notice a large quantity of fields far in from the coast which are covered in sand. At one stage, in the distance, I see to our right large domed hills of white. As we get closer I see they are salt fields. Men and women working away farming them, collecting the salt into smaller piles. The smaller piles are collected and then you have the large hills of salt. Something I've never seen before.
The bus passengers are either locked watching the movie or trying to catch some sleep. The film is like any fast action packed movie we see everyday. The hero is killing people left right and centre. Dropping motorbikes on some, shooting others and doing a variety of Matrix style martial art moves on others. Its quite ridiculous. A couple of times throughout the showing, the story stops and the main characters start doing a music video. Something similar to Austin Powers.
Two hours later the driver is bullying his way through the suburbs of Pondicherry. He's bloddy insane with near misses being the norm. Blaring his boat style horn to traffic as he drives down the wrong side of the road. We pull in alive to the main Pondicherry bus stand. As we disembark the driver continues to move along dropping us off in three groups. The terminus is insanity with buses racing through beeeping their horns. People scattered amongst this walking in every which way. The heat is a paltry 36 degrees or so. We collect together and stand on one of the piers to plan our journey into the city.
10 minutes later, after being driven through the streets of Pondicherry by a drunken lunatic, we arrive at Government Square. Himself and his drunken partner ask us for some more money for some booze. He illustrates this with the glug, glug, symbol of finger and thumb going up to his mouth. Myself and Eoghan walk away to the Qualithe Hotel around the corner.
All the boys are already there, sittting inside this old brown and cream walled, french colonial building. As Eoghan correctly mentioned its like something you'd see in an Irish pub with the old chairs and tables laid out as they are. We order a round of beers, soft drinks and water. A moment later we are joined by an old eccentic American man with busy hair and glasses. He starts conversing with Greg in French. Ten minutes later I chat to him and enjoy the rather insane chat we have.
Myself, Peter, Ian and Greg head off in search of accommodation. The French side of Pondicherry is clean and far from anything we have seen in India so far. The streets are laid out in a grid system of French named roads, lined with trees along the paths. The buildings are large impressive structures with small flowered gateways and colourful stepped entrances. After an hour or so our search seems futile with either places being full, too expensive or having a curfew of 10.30pm. The Ashram have a collection of places around the town that fall under the name of Aurobindo. These are peace havens that are for people looking for a place to stay where they can meditate and do yoga. The one I visited was beautiful inside. The place was spotless and the six bedded room I saw was spacious and modern and only cost 320rps for the room for the night.
An hour and half later we were back in the Qualithe with Aidan and Eoghan. We checked the rooms to find them to be more than acceptable, so we booked in for the night. We freshened up and I went about hanging my new hammock.
That night we ate in Le Space. Somewhere recommended by Glen and Will. After sitting down and Eoghan doing a small dance with the menu blackboard, we attracted the attention of a girl sitting beside us. Lisa was from Norway and she happily joined us at our table. A minute later we had three more girls come over and join us. A Canadian and two from the UK. The cocktails were the best I tasted in India so far. The food was delicious. The splitting headache I had was the only thing that took from the evening. After dinner I excused myself and headed back to the Hotel. With two paracetamols and half bottle of water inside me I lay down on the very short bed and fell asleep.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Day 22 - Monday 7th of July - Mahabalipuram
Wake up at nine and call in to see if Ian or Greg are awake. Greg is sitting up in bed and Ian is lying down on his belly. That being his own belly and not Greg's. I head down to the Internet Café to upload photos with Picasa. The power goes so I leave before getting anything done.
Myself and Greg go for breakfast. The power goes again. We get served the most delicious coffee. Not. We meet Ian as we are walking back. He wonders where we had disappeared to. We meet the rest of the lads apart from Peter who is comatose back in the room. Greg heads back to get some packing done before we leave. I leave Ian, Eoghan and Aidan to get breakfast as I go to the beach to do a ritual.
The beach is lined with fishing boats and men as they prepare nets and stock for their days catches. A swarm of horseflies play and dance in the warm breeze. As I walk back up the main street I'm stopped by a smiling Indian gentleman that tells me, “Jesus love me”. I call around to Swamiji to let him know we are heading off and ask him if he needs some help with the internet. Myself and Swamiji arrive and the power is gone again. I go to my room and collect my bags. Upon my return the power is back.
We get some internet stuff done and I find out that Swamiji is also know as Saswot. The rest of the gang gather in the internet cafe and wait for me before we leave. The owner of the guest house organises a rickshaw for the six of us and all our bags. I'm looking forward to seeing the size it.
As expected the rickshaw can not possibly fit all of us and our bags into it, even after the owner insisting it would. So in stubbornness and refusal to pay any more we all pile in. With the sardine arrangement perfected, the rickshaw driver then ask us to pay more. We argue as usual and agree to ten more rupees than agreed.
I can only imagine what it looks like. Something similar to the Simpsons sketch of the clowns getting out of the small car as 6 fairly tall lads and 12 bags and two guitars empty out at the bus stop. Locals stand around laughing at the sight of us.
A minute later we are all jumping onto the bus to Pondicherry, as he barely stops as we clamber on board. The bus is jammed with only Indian as the six whities block up what little space is left. After the usual array of gazes and glares the audience return to watching their movie. After a number of stops the majority of us get seats. Myself and Aidan sit in open the open doorways. One at the front and one at the back.
The views skirting by at speed. Fields, houses and villages. A large quantity of houses in India are totally painted by an advertiser. We think we have it bad in Ireland. Can you imagine your whole house being an advertisement for Massey Ferguson. I presume this helps people to survive. As we make our way along the coast I notice a Tsunami village built along the coast. I also notice a large quantity of fields far in from the coast which are covered in sand. At one stage, in the distance, I see to our right large domed hills of white. As we get closer I see they are salt fields. Men and women working away farming them, collecting the salt into smaller piles. The smaller piles are collected and then you have the large hills of salt. Something I've never seen before.
The bus passengers are either locked watching the movie or trying to catch some sleep. The film is like any fast action packed movie we see everyday. The hero is killing people left right and centre. Dropping motorbikes on some, shooting others and doing a variety of Matrix style martial art moves on others. Its quite ridiculous. A couple of times throughout the showing, the story stops and the main characters start doing a music video. Something similar to Austin Powers.
Two hours later the driver is bullying his way through the suburbs of Pondicherry. He's bloddy insane with near misses being the norm. Blaring his boat style horn to traffic as he drives down the wrong side of the road. We pull in alive to the main Pondicherry bus stand. As we disembark the driver continues to move along dropping us off in three groups. The terminus is insanity with buses racing through beeeping their horns. People scattered amongst this walking in every which way. The heat is a paltry 36 degrees or so. We collect together and stand on one of the piers to plan our journey into the city.
10 minutes later, after being driven through the streets of Pondicherry by a drunken lunatic, we arrive at Government Square. Himself and his drunken partner ask us for some more money for some booze. He illustrates this with the glug, glug, symbol of finger and thumb going up to his mouth. Myself and Eoghan walk away to the Qualithe Hotel around the corner.
All the boys are already there, sittting inside this old brown and cream walled, french colonial building. As Eoghan correctly mentioned its like something you'd see in an Irish pub with the old chairs and tables laid out as they are. We order a round of beers, soft drinks and water. A moment later we are joined by an old eccentic American man with busy hair and glasses. He starts conversing with Greg in French. Ten minutes later I chat to him and enjoy the rather insane chat we have.
Myself, Peter, Ian and Greg head off in search of accommodation. The French side of Pondicherry is clean and far from anything we have seen in India so far. The streets are laid out in a grid system of French named roads, lined with trees along the paths. The buildings are large impressive structures with small flowered gateways and colourful stepped entrances. After an hour or so our search seems futile with either places being full, too expensive or having a curfew of 10.30pm. The Ashram have a collection of places around the town that fall under the name of Aurobindo. These are peace havens that are for people looking for a place to stay where they can meditate and do yoga. The one I visited was beautiful inside. The place was spotless and the six bedded room I saw was spacious and modern and only cost 320rps for the room for the night.
An hour and half later we were back in the Qualithe with Aidan and Eoghan. We checked the rooms to find them to be more than acceptable, so we booked in for the night. We freshened up and I went about hanging my new hammock.
That night we ate in Le Space. Somewhere recommended by Glen and Will. After sitting down and Eoghan doing a small dance with the menu blackboard, we attracted the attention of a girl sitting beside us. Lisa was from Norway and she happily joined us at our table. A minute later we had three more girls come over and join us. A Canadian and two from the UK. The cocktails were the best I tasted in India so far. The food was delicious. The splitting headache I had was the only thing that took from the evening. After dinner I excused myself and headed back to the Hotel. With two paracetamols and half bottle of water inside me I lay down on the very short bed and fell asleep.
Myself and Greg go for breakfast. The power goes again. We get served the most delicious coffee. Not. We meet Ian as we are walking back. He wonders where we had disappeared to. We meet the rest of the lads apart from Peter who is comatose back in the room. Greg heads back to get some packing done before we leave. I leave Ian, Eoghan and Aidan to get breakfast as I go to the beach to do a ritual.
The beach is lined with fishing boats and men as they prepare nets and stock for their days catches. A swarm of horseflies play and dance in the warm breeze. As I walk back up the main street I'm stopped by a smiling Indian gentleman that tells me, “Jesus love me”. I call around to Swamiji to let him know we are heading off and ask him if he needs some help with the internet. Myself and Swamiji arrive and the power is gone again. I go to my room and collect my bags. Upon my return the power is back.
We get some internet stuff done and I find out that Swamiji is also know as Saswot. The rest of the gang gather in the internet cafe and wait for me before we leave. The owner of the guest house organises a rickshaw for the six of us and all our bags. I'm looking forward to seeing the size it.
As expected the rickshaw can not possibly fit all of us and our bags into it, even after the owner insisting it would. So in stubbornness and refusal to pay any more we all pile in. With the sardine arrangement perfected, the rickshaw driver then ask us to pay more. We argue as usual and agree to ten more rupees than agreed.
I can only imagine what it looks like. Something similar to the Simpsons sketch of the clowns getting out of the small car as 6 fairly tall lads and 12 bags and two guitars empty out at the bus stop. Locals stand around laughing at the sight of us.
A minute later we are all jumping onto the bus to Pondicherry, as he barely stops as we clamber on board. The bus is jammed with only Indian as the six whities block up what little space is left. After the usual array of gazes and glares the audience return to watching their movie. After a number of stops the majority of us get seats. Myself and Aidan sit in open the open doorways. One at the front and one at the back.
The views skirting by at speed. Fields, houses and villages. A large quantity of houses in India are totally painted by an advertiser. We think we have it bad in Ireland. Can you imagine your whole house being an advertisement for Massey Ferguson. I presume this helps people to survive. As we make our way along the coast I notice a Tsunami village built along the coast. I also notice a large quantity of fields far in from the coast which are covered in sand. At one stage, in the distance, I see to our right large domed hills of white. As we get closer I see they are salt fields. Men and women working away farming them, collecting the salt into smaller piles. The smaller piles are collected and then you have the large hills of salt. Something I've never seen before.
The bus passengers are either locked watching the movie or trying to catch some sleep. The film is like any fast action packed movie we see everyday. The hero is killing people left right and centre. Dropping motorbikes on some, shooting others and doing a variety of Matrix style martial art moves on others. Its quite ridiculous. A couple of times throughout the showing, the story stops and the main characters start doing a music video. Something similar to Austin Powers.
Two hours later the driver is bullying his way through the suburbs of Pondicherry. He's bloddy insane with near misses being the norm. Blaring his boat style horn to traffic as he drives down the wrong side of the road. We pull in alive to the main Pondicherry bus stand. As we disembark the driver continues to move along dropping us off in three groups. The terminus is insanity with buses racing through beeeping their horns. People scattered amongst this walking in every which way. The heat is a paltry 36 degrees or so. We collect together and stand on one of the piers to plan our journey into the city.
10 minutes later, after being driven through the streets of Pondicherry by a drunken lunatic, we arrive at Government Square. Himself and his drunken partner ask us for some more money for some booze. He illustrates this with the glug, glug, symbol of finger and thumb going up to his mouth. Myself and Eoghan walk away to the Qualithe Hotel around the corner.
All the boys are already there, sittting inside this old brown and cream walled, french colonial building. As Eoghan correctly mentioned its like something you'd see in an Irish pub with the old chairs and tables laid out as they are. We order a round of beers, soft drinks and water. A moment later we are joined by an old eccentic American man with busy hair and glasses. He starts conversing with Greg in French. Ten minutes later I chat to him and enjoy the rather insane chat we have.
Myself, Peter, Ian and Greg head off in search of accommodation. The French side of Pondicherry is clean and far from anything we have seen in India so far. The streets are laid out in a grid system of French named roads, lined with trees along the paths. The buildings are large impressive structures with small flowered gateways and colourful stepped entrances. After an hour or so our search seems futile with either places being full, too expensive or having a curfew of 10.30pm. The Ashram have a collection of places around the town that fall under the name of Aurobindo. These are peace havens that are for people looking for a place to stay where they can meditate and do yoga. The one I visited was beautiful inside. The place was spotless and the six bedded room I saw was spacious and modern and only cost 320rps for the room for the night.
An hour and half later we were back in the Qualithe with Aidan and Eoghan. We checked the rooms to find them to be more than acceptable, so we booked in for the night. We freshened up and I went about hanging my new hammock.
That night we ate in Le Space. Somewhere recommended by Glen and Will. After sitting down and Eoghan doing a small dance with the menu blackboard, we attracted the attention of a girl sitting beside us. Lisa was from Norway and she happily joined us at our table. A minute later we had three more girls come over and join us. A Canadian and two from the UK. The cocktails were the best I tasted in India so far. The food was delicious. The splitting headache I had was the only thing that took from the evening. After dinner I excused myself and headed back to the Hotel. With two paracetamols and half bottle of water inside me I lay down on the very short bed and fell asleep.
Monday, June 16, 2008
The Jouney Begins - Day 0
Hello all. Currently typing this while sitting on my bed in the rather lovely air-con room of the Sea Palace in Coloba, Mumbai, India. I've just woken after 5 hours sleep and decided no time like the present to get blogging.
We began our journey, well I began my travelling a bit ahead of the lads. I left Villa Bochella, Ponte a Moriano, in Italy at 8am Sunday morning. I then got a lift to Lucca train station. A two hour journey to Florence. Then a train to Rome. A metro to Angina. A bus to Ciampino, Rome airport. A flight to Dublin. I was met by my beautiful boyfriend João and by one of my travelling buddies, Eoghan, at 7.30pm. Eoghan dropped us back to my house in Kimmage. (first trip 2,422 km) I spent some final quality hours in Dublin. I was about to leave my amazing partner for the next 6 months, so I was really valuing every moment of the time. Something we appreciate more, when time is short.
Myself and João headed to the airport in a taxi at 2am. I remember as we were driving through the city taking it all in, as this was going to be the last time, for over 365 days, I'd see the streets of Dublin. A rather beautiful city, when you look up at the variety of buildings and diverse architectural styles. When we got to the airport we had our final dinner together for some time. Everywhere we looked, the airport was filled with unconscious bodies. Lying on any square inch of soft furnishing that could be found. We resided to the floor of the rather alien-esk interior of the Aer Lingus check-in lounge.
After taking a small nap in João's lap, Eoghan and Aidan, my second travelling buddy arrived at 4am. Both of the boys looked as shattered as I felt. Eoghan brought along a miniature guitar. That's going to be fun. We did our last hugs and kisses goodbye. Its a really strange feeling leaving someone you love for something like 6 months. Even though you know your going to see them again, its quite a shock to the system. Obviously much harder for the person that is not heading off. As you are going to be distracted every moment by new experiences. I'll miss my sweet heart insurmountably. XXX
We took our first flight, Aer Lingus LR125 to Heathrow, UK at 6.40am. On time. Rather comfortable as they gave us three seats each. Emergeny rows at that. I fell asleep before take off and woke 30mins later flying over the UK. We landed, rather roughly, on time in Heathrow. (279 miles) We then took a 1 hour journey, of walking, bus, multiple security check throughs, to Terminal 4.
For anyone that goes through Heathrow, buy what you need in Dublin duty free. Its at least 30% more expensive in LHR. Thats across the board. We boarded our flight BA139 to Mumbai, India at 11.05am. A Boeing 747-400. I chanced my arm at the BA desk for an upgrade although to no avail unfortunately. We were herded into the back of the plane. 10 seats across. We were placed in a rather Ryanair styled seating arrangement together. This was quite amusing as the three of us are all rather broad and tall. With Aidan bashing our TV controls with his elbows, sandwiched in between me and Eoghan. We asked the stewardess if there was any chance of an upgrade. God loves a trier :) The plane filled quickly and took off on-time. 
The nice stewardess offered us a free row and Aidan, moved giving us that much needed extra bit of room for our elbows and shoulders. The flight was going to be 9 hours so I planned a mixture of sleeping, eating and some movies. This was actually very pleasant. I took some photos as we flew over North Africa. The food was top grade. The TV screen in the seat infront of me was a nice distraction.
We landed in Mumbai, India, 20 mins late, not bad for a 3,400 mile journey. The heat really hits you when you get off the plane. Thankfully the week in Italy had helped a little, I think. We passed through immigration without any delay and collected our bags as quickly as you would in Dublin. We had gotten advice and orderd a pre-paid taxi in the airport. As you leave the airport you are greeted by a sea of indian faces, waving name signs. The air is thick and moist. There is a barrage of taxis parked higgly-de-piggdly all over the place. There's a constant sound of beeping horns. People approach you to offer their taxis. Aidan lead the charge and found a porter that lead us to a small blue car, where he awoke two men sleeping inside. Bags were packed in the boot and we piled in. The man barely awake, began to drive off without his headlights turned on. I mentioned this to him three or four times, before he worked out what was going on. The journey began with a similar feeling to a bumper ride in a fair ground. Thankfully not too many bumps, although he was going around 15 miles per hour and swerving all over the place. Cars were beeping him from the left and right and pushing him all around the place. We kept mentioning our destination, as he spoke about us being his God send and something about his memory. His English was not the best although pretty good for someone that had only gone to class for 3 months. We seemed to be driving for quit sometime and I started wondering did this guy know where he was off to. He just didn't come across very confident.
Its a real eye opener as you travel through Mumbai for the first time. Supposedly, India most westernised city. Many of the street are lined with people sleeping in them. Black and yellow taxis are everywhere, with their drivers asleep in the back, with the doors open. A lot of the buildings are run-down and shack-like. Bizarrily, amongst this you keep seeing shop shutters with the Vodafone logo printed on them in large. The streets are in a dire state, with numerous craters in the middle. Piles of bricks lie all over the place, on the side of the road. Traffic lights are only for decoration. And here we are with this lovely indian man, can't remeber his name, pottering along with us all crammed in his tiny car. We realised quickly, he had no idea where he was going. We stopped around 20 times to ask directions to Colloba. He kept getting directions and driving off in another direction. Driving the wrong way down one way streets, with cars racing at him beeping their horns. We were wondering whether we ever going to get there or perhaps get mugged before we even got to our hotel. After around an hour and a half the poor man finally found the hotel. The Gods had sent us a good one because he genuinely was a lovely man that just didn't know where he was. It can happen to the best of us. We got into our hotel. Paid our 7295 rps for one night, €100 approx for the 3 of us, in one of the better hotels a few minutes from the Gate of India along the sea front. We found two of our Irish buddies, Ian and Peter had booked in a couple hours before us. After unpacking in our air-con room we met the others and ordered some food at 5am in the morning.
So, if you got this far well done. This will prob be the longest post, on our journey, so my apologies for the length. Some will be very short and there may be a week without any. Make sure to leave us your suggestions of what to see and do. Keep safe. Sam signing off. Sleepy hello from Aidan awaking beside me now and zzzzzz from Eoghan.
We began our journey, well I began my travelling a bit ahead of the lads. I left Villa Bochella, Ponte a Moriano, in Italy at 8am Sunday morning. I then got a lift to Lucca train station. A two hour journey to Florence. Then a train to Rome. A metro to Angina. A bus to Ciampino, Rome airport. A flight to Dublin. I was met by my beautiful boyfriend João and by one of my travelling buddies, Eoghan, at 7.30pm. Eoghan dropped us back to my house in Kimmage. (first trip 2,422 km) I spent some final quality hours in Dublin. I was about to leave my amazing partner for the next 6 months, so I was really valuing every moment of the time. Something we appreciate more, when time is short.
Myself and João headed to the airport in a taxi at 2am. I remember as we were driving through the city taking it all in, as this was going to be the last time, for over 365 days, I'd see the streets of Dublin. A rather beautiful city, when you look up at the variety of buildings and diverse architectural styles. When we got to the airport we had our final dinner together for some time. Everywhere we looked, the airport was filled with unconscious bodies. Lying on any square inch of soft furnishing that could be found. We resided to the floor of the rather alien-esk interior of the Aer Lingus check-in lounge.
After taking a small nap in João's lap, Eoghan and Aidan, my second travelling buddy arrived at 4am. Both of the boys looked as shattered as I felt. Eoghan brought along a miniature guitar. That's going to be fun. We did our last hugs and kisses goodbye. Its a really strange feeling leaving someone you love for something like 6 months. Even though you know your going to see them again, its quite a shock to the system. Obviously much harder for the person that is not heading off. As you are going to be distracted every moment by new experiences. I'll miss my sweet heart insurmountably. XXX
We took our first flight, Aer Lingus LR125 to Heathrow, UK at 6.40am. On time. Rather comfortable as they gave us three seats each. Emergeny rows at that. I fell asleep before take off and woke 30mins later flying over the UK. We landed, rather roughly, on time in Heathrow. (279 miles) We then took a 1 hour journey, of walking, bus, multiple security check throughs, to Terminal 4.
For anyone that goes through Heathrow, buy what you need in Dublin duty free. Its at least 30% more expensive in LHR. Thats across the board. We boarded our flight BA139 to Mumbai, India at 11.05am. A Boeing 747-400. I chanced my arm at the BA desk for an upgrade although to no avail unfortunately. We were herded into the back of the plane. 10 seats across. We were placed in a rather Ryanair styled seating arrangement together. This was quite amusing as the three of us are all rather broad and tall. With Aidan bashing our TV controls with his elbows, sandwiched in between me and Eoghan. We asked the stewardess if there was any chance of an upgrade. God loves a trier :) The plane filled quickly and took off on-time. 
The nice stewardess offered us a free row and Aidan, moved giving us that much needed extra bit of room for our elbows and shoulders. The flight was going to be 9 hours so I planned a mixture of sleeping, eating and some movies. This was actually very pleasant. I took some photos as we flew over North Africa. The food was top grade. The TV screen in the seat infront of me was a nice distraction.We landed in Mumbai, India, 20 mins late, not bad for a 3,400 mile journey. The heat really hits you when you get off the plane. Thankfully the week in Italy had helped a little, I think. We passed through immigration without any delay and collected our bags as quickly as you would in Dublin. We had gotten advice and orderd a pre-paid taxi in the airport. As you leave the airport you are greeted by a sea of indian faces, waving name signs. The air is thick and moist. There is a barrage of taxis parked higgly-de-piggdly all over the place. There's a constant sound of beeping horns. People approach you to offer their taxis. Aidan lead the charge and found a porter that lead us to a small blue car, where he awoke two men sleeping inside. Bags were packed in the boot and we piled in. The man barely awake, began to drive off without his headlights turned on. I mentioned this to him three or four times, before he worked out what was going on. The journey began with a similar feeling to a bumper ride in a fair ground. Thankfully not too many bumps, although he was going around 15 miles per hour and swerving all over the place. Cars were beeping him from the left and right and pushing him all around the place. We kept mentioning our destination, as he spoke about us being his God send and something about his memory. His English was not the best although pretty good for someone that had only gone to class for 3 months. We seemed to be driving for quit sometime and I started wondering did this guy know where he was off to. He just didn't come across very confident.
Its a real eye opener as you travel through Mumbai for the first time. Supposedly, India most westernised city. Many of the street are lined with people sleeping in them. Black and yellow taxis are everywhere, with their drivers asleep in the back, with the doors open. A lot of the buildings are run-down and shack-like. Bizarrily, amongst this you keep seeing shop shutters with the Vodafone logo printed on them in large. The streets are in a dire state, with numerous craters in the middle. Piles of bricks lie all over the place, on the side of the road. Traffic lights are only for decoration. And here we are with this lovely indian man, can't remeber his name, pottering along with us all crammed in his tiny car. We realised quickly, he had no idea where he was going. We stopped around 20 times to ask directions to Colloba. He kept getting directions and driving off in another direction. Driving the wrong way down one way streets, with cars racing at him beeping their horns. We were wondering whether we ever going to get there or perhaps get mugged before we even got to our hotel. After around an hour and a half the poor man finally found the hotel. The Gods had sent us a good one because he genuinely was a lovely man that just didn't know where he was. It can happen to the best of us. We got into our hotel. Paid our 7295 rps for one night, €100 approx for the 3 of us, in one of the better hotels a few minutes from the Gate of India along the sea front. We found two of our Irish buddies, Ian and Peter had booked in a couple hours before us. After unpacking in our air-con room we met the others and ordered some food at 5am in the morning.
So, if you got this far well done. This will prob be the longest post, on our journey, so my apologies for the length. Some will be very short and there may be a week without any. Make sure to leave us your suggestions of what to see and do. Keep safe. Sam signing off. Sleepy hello from Aidan awaking beside me now and zzzzzz from Eoghan.
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