Day 30 - Tuesday - Kodaikanal

We arrive in Dindugal after 4am. One hour waiting for our connecting bus. Another town where whiteys are unusual. Stares and smiles everywhere you turn. Any we asked was very helpful. People lay wrapped up in sheets asleep on the platforms. A bat circled the pillar. Different buses pulled in and crowds of Indians ran to get seats. When we thought our bus was in we join the scurry. A bus inspector motioned to us to wait. The government bus for Kodaikanal finally pulled in. We got ourselves three seats for us and our bags. Bit of a squash although not the worst.

As we make our way further inland we put on a second layer of clothes. The first time it has being need since we arrived in India. A welcome change. As the we race along dawn is nearing. The bus comes to a hault and myself and Peer jump out for a quick smoke. It appears to be a fairly long traffic jam that is going nowhere. We walk up the length of the traffic to investigate. A fairly severe crash had happened, I imagine a couple hours before. The front of the purple bus is a mangled mesh of metal. A rather foreboding feeling comes over. The thought of what the passengers went through is upsetting. The results of the insane driving become evident here. My mood feels rather subdued as we turn from he carnage. Myself and Peter say few words as we back down the road. I notice myself playing with the beads of my bracelet, like worry beads. I look up and notice one of the most beautiful sunrises ever. I turn smiling and mention it to Peter to look up. Its a welcome return to the moment for our brains after witnessing the frightening carnage. Ian is standing away from our bus looking at the sunrise when we return. We relay the story to him and mention he was probably better off not seeing if first hand.

Its not long before we are back on the road. We stupidly presume the driver will take it easy after seeing the crash. The view as we drive up the mountain is spectacular. Its a slow windy road that the you can see the driver is infuriated by. He does his damnedest to get the most out of the old bus engine as he roars it to pull the monster vehicle of steel up and around the steep inclines and bends. The road drops off to cliff face of trees and astounding panoromic views as we climb higher and higher. Before long Peter has fallen asleep and his head is bopping away rhytmically to the turns and jolts of the bus. Myself and Ian are in hysterics with cameras poised as he imitates the toy dogs you put on the parcel tray of cars. As we get higher more hotels start appearing on the hillside. Not long after we pull into an Alpine style village nearing the summit of this spectacular mountain. We give Greg a call after we get off the bus. Five minutes later he comes down to meet us with a some local chocolate as a gift for our breakfast.

We are brought to Yogpappa guesthouse were the boys are staying. We look at some rooms and take a room for 600rps for the three of us. The room feels really damp. Ian & Peter go straight to sleep.
I decide stay up and go for breakfast in pastry shop with Greg. The pastries are delectable and we munch through 10 of the between us with coffee. Next while exploring the town we find a Camera repair shop. Yes, hard to believe. At over 2,000 metres I find a guy that says he can perhaps repair the Canon camera. He tells me the charge will be between 900 and up to 1600rps at the maximum.

After an hour or so we head back to the guesthouse. I woke Aidan & Eoghan who appeared to have had their own mountain top adventure during the night. Living a recollection of a night in West Cork it seems, the boys entertained themselves high in the mountain top with stories and tales that had them giggling till the early hours. Amazingly Greg slept through the whole thing in the room next door. They were both in mighty form and were ready to head out for lunch. We went about waking Peter and Ian next. It took us to carry Ian from one room to another still wrapped in his bed linen. The female cleaner stood by watching in silence as we carried the lifeless body across the veranda. All of us laughing and she stood there staring at us as we came out of the room. We realised she was worried that something sinister was going on so we invited her in to check the very much alive although lazy McD. Ian lay still lifeless as the slightly oldish lady touched his forehead. Next thing he smiled, opened his eyes and she turned to leave, smiling at the high jinks of the lads. She got the joke. We were all falling around at the fact she thought we had murdered someone. What stories go around of the crazy whities!

As we went to leave I checked with the manager whether we could get a less damp room or a heater to dry it out a bit. His english seemed to worsen as I stood there playing charades over the words 'dampness' or 'heater'. I left him as he smiled warmly and blankly at me. We all headed up to the viewpoint restaurant for lunch. An amazing view, looking down over the valley, sprawled out in front of us. This was quickly changed as clouds raced into blocking the view with its fog like thickness. We ordered food and within a moment the skies opened and it started bucketing down. We ran inside and watched as the water poured down the windows like a car going through the car wash. The windows steamed and as we sat their waiting for our food it really felt like being in a country house back home. Lunch arrived after quite some time. Fairly mediocre, apart from the delicious chicken and sweet corn soup. After eating we were talking to the manager of the place. He told us his wages were 100rps per day. 10 years ago a years wages was enough to build your own house. Now you'd be lucky to build one after saving for 10 years. We continued chatting for a while until the rain eased off and then we left.

Before heading in to town, I wanted to show the lads a cottage with an open fire that was being rented nearby. It was taken by the time we got there. The man said he had an even nicer one and told he could brings us there. Supposedly only 500 metres away or as we say in Ireland, around the corner. After walking over 1km, in the rain, up a hill, we finally got there. It was quite a pretty little home. It had its own kitchen, fireplace, bathroom with hot water and three beds. We took it for 700rps per night. The caretaker was called Soobo and spoke with a hint of a British accent. We headed back to check out of Yogpappa. The manager was not to happy when we informed him we had found another place, that was not so damp and better for my health. We moved our bags into the boys room and headed off into town. We used the internet. I checked up on the camera that I had dropped in for repair. He said tomorrow morning. Myself and Ian collected supplies and food. We grabbed a taxi and returned to our new little cottage.

The boys joined us shortly afterwards with beers and water. We passed over the job of cooking dinner. Aidan and Eoghan did most of the work at preparing a chicken masala and rice dish. We played chess. Ate dinner and drank beer. Dinner ended up being a mass of bones. After a bit we sat down and played poker. We had a brilliant even with fire blazing away in the background. It was a lot of fun. Aidan went to head home, although the dog wars are going on outside so he declined from leaving and sat on the hammocks outside to wait for Eoghan. By 4am I climbed into bed as the embers of the fire glowed away beside me. It was a great feeling being all wrapped in blankets in the cold.

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.

Moving on to Auroville - Day 25 - Thursday

I awoke at 8am as my feet once again were being munched by something. A moment after waking Greg was awake. A lot times when you awake in Indian cities you are kept from returning to sleep, with the constant beeping. This was one of those morning. I resided to take to my adorable purple hammock outside with my book. Greg took the green one. I'd say 3 pages later I was lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking motion. I think I awoke once although didn't awake properly until I opened my eyes and heard a little In Indian lady nattering on in Tamil. I smiled and sat up. She continued murming something and motoning something which appeared to be about cleaning, so I replied in my word perfect Tamil, “eh, no its okay, they're sleeping. Nandre.”Quite I smiled and nodded and she smiled and then continued to talk to herself as she walked along. Ian came out a moment later, so we agreed we'd do breakfast at the Hot Bread place.

Pondicherry is as I've mentioned not like anywhere else you will see in India. Nevertheless, it still is very much India under the skin. As you walk around you still see the poverty, smell the smells, although there are major differences. The place has more money. There is far less litter and for the first time I have seen, there are people employed to clean the streets. Generally women. This is another far cry from westernised society. The type of manual jobs Indian women do. They work building the roads, they carry bricks and heavy cumbersome loads on their heads and so much more.

We arrived at the fresh pastry place for breakfast. It was like a cafe you'd see down the country in Ireland. As we sat waiting for our selection of delectables, the power went off. In no time at all we were sitting there sweating. A family that had arrived after us just stood up and left. It's another thing you forget or take for granted in Ireland. The auld leci. I remember when I was a kid loving when the power went off. In India it's a tad different. Sometimes it goes off 4 or 5 times a day and up to 6 hours off. Can you imagine trying to run a business with that type of shit going on. Since we arrived I say that I have experienced 20 days when the power has gone off a least once. 5 minutes later the fans were whirring above our very grateful and sweaty bodies. Ian at one point had nearly looked like he was going to pass out.

When I got back after breakfast I resided to do some more sweet hammock action. Ian was already back swinging away. The rest of the lads were up and talking about where they were going to head. By the time they got themselves together I agreed I'd join them for a coffee. Ian headed into lie down. As we were leaving we Greg who joined our little possie. We headed to Le Cafe on the seafront. Even though it was only 3 hours after eating a large breakfast, I ordered some food as well. Another thing for anyone that visits India, is to realise a generic difference in communication. One I don't believe to bet a language thing. It seems that a lot of things are based on a set of standard rules and changing these causes a lot of problems. On example was as simple as ordering, extra chicken, as listed in the menu, on a grilled cheese and butter baguette. Having an extra head would have got a less surprised and confused look. We explained we wanted the chicken inside the baguette. He suggested we order a chicken salad instead. After 5 minutes of hand signals and pointing at the menu, I got impatient and went inside with the menu to speak to the chef. Of course, was the response, with the usual little head bop. This is just one example, another one is traveling around. You need to know to ask the right questions or alternative answers will not be offered. This can be quite infuriating. I suggest always ask, “Is there any other option?” then ask the same question again, and once more to be totally sure.

I dropped into the internet café as we walked to the hotel. Within ten minutes I crashed one of the computers after installing Skype. I think the computer was too old. I got it all working on the next PC with Picasa installed also. When uploading photos and ringing people three hours fly by. I suppose for me this fairly minor. The cafe was a tiny little old room with 3 PCs. Every where we have being so far, has some form of internet connection. Handy for keeping in touch. Its probably a good idea to have you own headset if possible as you can always install Skype where you go.

By the time I got up to our rooms Aidan, Ian and Greg had headed to the post office to lighten there bags by sending some of there stuff home. Eoghan was swinging away reading his book and Peter was in catching some sleep. I jumped into the other hammock and caught up on my book that I have being neglecting on for some time. It was a couple hours before Ian returned. He was livid. The postal office experience was one that had driven him half insane. It takes a lot to get Ian going although he was still raging from the experience. They had gone off to get their items packaged. This had taken over an hour, as the woman had to hand sew material on the outside of the box. He was then left to wait in a queue in the post office for 75 minutes. They guy behind the counter kept serving other people first and telling Ian to wait. After trying to get the mans attention on numerous occasions, Ian finally got a Post Office manager and told him how angry he was being made wait like this. The manager started screaming at the now sheepish man behind the counter. Within five minutes Ian was served and out of there. An hour later Greg came back with pretty much the same story and was furious at how he was treated in the post office. I think there is an underlying sentiment of racism with a lot of Indians, which is understandable from where they come from in their history. White man has done the people of the country few favours over the years.

After Greg calmed down, we packed our bags and agreed to make it to the main Pondcherry bus stand for near to 7pm. We made our farewells and jumped into a rickshaw. The bus stand is beyond manic, as we had realised upon our first visit to it. We found an incredibly helpful man at the information desk. He proceeded to walk us around the platform looking for our bus to Auroville. To little avail, as bus conductor ignored his questions. It's not the first time I have seen this where you get ignored as if you don't even exist. Not sure if the cast system or what it is although you see it. He informed us that the bus was at 7.30pm and to wait around. Greg checked around 15 minutes before we were to leave and found our bus. The bus was jammed and we found a couple of seats near the front of the bus. An Indian lady sitting to my right tried to make conversation, as the bus plowed through the busy streets. She was lovely and gave me advice on how much to pay. This still didn't stop the conductor charging us twice the price. As we fished our way through the hectic streets more and more people piled on board. Greg stood up to give his seat to an elderly gentleman and then proceeded to worry about his possessions as he got bumped and shoved from left to right by the crowd.

The bus dropped us off at Auroville main street. It had just got dark and the main road was filled with beeping cars as the raced by us. We asked a man at the nearby shop stand where we where and he showed us our place on a map. We appeared to be a stones throw from the beach. So with a sense of direction we headed off down a dark alley way in the direction of our beach. We had gotten some tips that there were a few resorts nearby so we felt we could find somewhere to crash for the night. As we walked along we noticed a whitey, through a gateway. Who else but our Norwegian friend Lisa was getting assistance starting her moped. I called out to her and she turned and smiled welcomingly. She showed us the interior of her beach hut. It was raised on stilts, was made from bamboo, wood and roofed with a collection of large leaves. It came with electricity and its own mossie net. I thought it was quite charming although Greg was not that impressed. We thanked her and told her we'd probably see her the next day. We saw another place next store that was over priced and of a fairly poor standard. As we walked back towards the main road a gentleman with a torch called after us, to come back. We kept walking and then as he persisted, we stopped until he caught up with us. Thankfully, as 10 minute later we got our own boat converted into a beach hut for only 230rps between us. It had its own shower room, living room and big enough bedroom with mossie net, fans and electricity.

After hanging my hammock, settling in we headed to the main street to look for some food. Upon our landlords recommendation we went to checkout the Roof Top restaurant a few doors down from where we were staying. It was a few garden chairs and table sitting outside an old building. The man there confirmed to the rather amazed me, yes it wasthe roof top restaurant. As you can imagine we didn't stay. We went back to the main street. As we walked along, I noticed a fairly modern sign for somewhere nearby called the Third Eye, so we headed there. First impressions were good until the menus arrived. The prices were near to double the prices we had being paying up to this stage. The manager came over and offered us a 20% discount immediately. We declined politely and excused ourselves. He then pulled uot anntoher business card offering the cheapest airfares that we'd find both national and international. We laughed to each other as we descended the stairs wondering what type of prices could he be offering if his food was anything to go by. After checking another few places we found a small empty although spotlessly clean place, upstairs along the main road.

As we sat down in our seats and given menus, some Westlife began playing on the stereo in the back. Good to see they know what us westerners like. The meal was mediocre. The Fanta was over sweet, obviously having sat around for way too long. The coffee was a bad choice after the meal, with it tasting incredibly sour. We complained that the milk was bad and as you can imagine this ensued a broken english conversation of stating it wasn't. Funny enough after insisting it was and asking for a new coffee and tea, without milk, we learnt that the coffee was exceptonally sour and had being sitting around for the whole day. We paid up and headed back to the boat. Greg headed to bed and I jumped into my hammock to read my book and ring my handsome gostoso to wish him good night. An hour later I cluimbed into bed.