The Jungle Book (Niki)

As most of you know i'm (Niki) a big fan of animals, from the smallest to the largest, well apart from moths as previously mentioned. To my delight there are animals everywhere here. Sometimes a little too close for comfort.

In the hills of Vattakanal we were robbed by some monkeys literally whilst i sat guarding the door one snuck in behind me and stole our bananas. A big ugly male who i swear sneered at me as i lifted my chair above my head and shouted to try and scare it off. This was to no avail and he sat there very slowly delicately peeling and savouring each one.

The next morning at sunrise it appears the monkey was in cahoots with the local bison who had come up from the plains to graze. Despite their huge size and numbers loc
als said they were harmless and so i set off with my camera to get the perfect sunrise photo. Paying little attention to the lone bison a few hundred metres up the hill. In tow was next doors dog a big lolloping greyhound/great dane cross the dimmest dog you'd care to meet. It decided to start playing with the bison stalking them and pouncing about. Then the lone bigger bison took offence and made a furious snorting sound to which the dog yelped and came to take shelter behind me. Queue bison charging at me down a steep slope. Every nature programme i'd ever seen flashed before my eyes should i run, shout, make myself appear bigger, climb a tree? In the end i kind of slid down the slope grabbed a tree and swung round it then hid for sometime until our room mates who had witnessed this from a roof deemed the coast was clear. So now i'm very nervous of every bovine creature that comes in close proximity which in India happens approx 20 times a day.

Lastly (for now and hopefully the rest of the trip) whilst looking for beach huts in gokarna we were trekking around the remote beaches where even a tap with fresh water was a luxury. And whilst walking over the headland we had to stop whilst a huge 1-2 metre quite fat black/brown snake crossed our path. We decided not to stay on that part of the beach!

Mumbai

We took our first overnight train of the trip from gokarna into mumbai. We whimped out of travelling sleeper class and got two beds in the AC3 carriage as we were both ready to enjoy some fresh air after the heat and humidity of the beach.

We soon felt the pressures of being in a big city as we jumped off the train in the cool early morning and were surrounded by rickshaw and taxi drivers. We decided to use one of the taxi guys who tried to pull a well rehearsed trick on us; chat nicely to the customers, set the meter to max and cover it so they cant see it. It wasnt long before we found ourselves on the side of the main road with our bags a fraction of the way to the hotel. We quickly got into another cab (reasonably priced this time) and headed to our mid-trip treat of a 4* hotel in colaba.

In mumbai we just went for long walks past the gateway to india and the taj hotel, watching cricket played by locals young and old on the oval (pic 3), down the marine drive checking out the sunset (pic 4), doing a bit of shopping picking up some weird cds and cool posters and niki splashed out on some new clothes, gazing at some local modern art, checking out the chor bazaar and mad antique shops (pic 2), put together some parcels of presents to send home (pic 1), going to a decent restaurant and tucking into some meat for the first time in 6 weeks (pic 6), scoffing proper streetfood and eating another meaty kebab treat pics 7 & 8) and we even found a cat with one eye who would be a good side kick for ours back home (pic 5).

We really enjoyed mumbai even though we hardly touched the surface. Its clean, not too much hassle around and there's always something to do. It was pricey though. At times were drinking beers at london prices however booze did seem to be one of a small number of expensive things. It was fun having a booze up watching india to come back and beat pakistan in the asia cup. I thought the whole town was gonna explode. The meal we had at khyber was stellar, probably one of the best indian meals ive had in a long time. The lamb seriously challenges tayyabs back home and it course it was cheaper. The architecture was stunning in places, the cst train station quite rightly holds unesco status and projects a slightly gothic image much like that of kings cross back home. All in all mumbai was a great way to break up our trip and prepare ourself for our stay in rajasthan.

Random stuff and some fantastic spelling

Pic 1: info to customers from the proprietors in a bar in mysore

Pic 2: english breakfast including "bagbines on toast" lol

Pic 3: drink driving sign in hampi

Pic 4: unbelievable spelling

Pic 5: yes this is meant to be a manchester united belt. Amazing.

Pic 6: "vaste of time". I lolled for hours at that one.

Pic 7: one of many "cogs" (dog with udders) around hampi.

Gokarna

We left hampi in high spirits and boarded a sleeper bus to gokarna. The term sleeper should have been taken with a pinch of salt, i would have been more comfortable running up a mountain than laying down on this bus. Like a bucking bronco we were bounced up and down through the night and eventually got to what we thought was gokarna (only it wasnt) at the convenient hour of 3am. We had to board what looked like some old soviet military bus and headed the last 20kms to gokarna with red eyes a plenty. We started chatting to a few folks including a lovely lass called clare from london who we buddied up with over the next couple of days. We spent a surreal night chatting on om beach in the full moon waiting for the sun to come up and shack owners to arise. After reading the guide we (inc clare) came to the conclusion that we were more intrepid than the average reader and took a fishibg boat to the fairly isolated half moon beach. We were greeted by a miserable sod who owned a few mud and coconut shacks and a cafe. The proprietor was consistently and jovially heckled by his tenants for his attitude as he showed us round the available rooms. We quickluly concluded that we definitely werent intrepid and running water and an actual bed rather than a sandy floor should be used for sleeping. So back to om beach laughing about how middle class and daft we were to even try to be intrepid and settled in a quiet and beautiful place called nirvana cafe. Small villas and quaint shacks set amongst flower gardens and well kept sandy paths.

The next few days we enjoyed the beach and sunshine and generally took it steady. The only drawback was throngs of indian lads here after holi who would take pictures of anyone western at point blank range, especially girls in bikinis. Naturally niki and clare became pretty frustrated with it but there's not much that can be done by just swearing and shouting. Having said that we heard a story from one of the local tat sellers that a woman grabbed a mans phone and threw it i  the sea aftet he was caught red handed. We were a bit sad to leave om beach as we had found a bit of paradise at nirvana cafe, the guys who own it were great including one older looking fella who was like a friendly grandad. I soon found out he was only 40 years old so they must be working him hard on his shifts.

Bombay mix diaries part 3

Two packets to test in this part, one plainly in mix category and one in non mix territory.

Haldirams kashmiri dalmouth (pic left). Very interesting sweet flavour but not much spice. A nice balance of texture and the additions of cashew and dry fruit give it some zeal. Interesting but not one i would write home about telling people of the fantastic times eating kashmiri dalmouth. 6/10.

Haldirams bag of samosas. What can i say? A bag of samosas? Amazing? Nope. Chewing through the parcels of clag enveloped in drier clag and deep fried in gloop. It was like eating crusty leather parcels of dry mortar turning into some form of natural cement as it absorbed all the moisture in my mouth and forced me into a gag. So incredibly difficult to ingest i still found my way rifling through the whole packet quick sharp as though they were laced in crack. So much potential to be the king of the non mix category but v close in terms of violent addictiveness. But wait! Whats that languishing at the bottom of the packet?! Its only a bloomin sachet of dipping sauce! If only i had have known earlier. This snack could have ended up being a moist tasty  combination and not feeling like a set of fossils of what used to be samosas many eons ago. 5/10.

Pic 2: holy smokes just check out all that mix and non mix!!!1! Droooooooooooooool...

Holi moli

The majority of our stay in hampi was spent in a chilled place overlooking paddy fields and palm trees that frame the sunset. There wasnt really much to report as we lazed the days away, read books and listened to music. The food was pretty dire traveller fodder and the indian dishes were no better than the average slop served to the boozed up ingrates on brick lane at 11pm. Hampi is reknowned to be a bit of a stoner haven and two russian lads in our place must have found that higher plane. Each night for hours in the restaurant they practiced playing their mouth guitars with pony tail guy setting the monotonic relentless pace and his slightly more stoned shaven headed side kick struggling to keep up in synch. All resulting in an annoying aural mess and me being the archetypal soft brit keeping quiet and not complaining. Karma i thought. Karma.

So on to holi... We left our room ready for battle, armed with water bottles filled with paint, extra packets of powdered paint and disposable clothes on our anxious bodies. We found the main crowd of revelers accompanied by drummers who were already synched into a rollercoaster rhythm that could have been going days. We had a gentle initiation from a kind local who gently smeared wet paint on our faces. Niki naively returned the favour by throwing a handful of dry paint powder into the blokes face and unfortunate eyes from point blank range. The guy was shaken and calm despite losing his eyesight for a minute or two. His parting advice was to use water which we duly and ashamedly took on board. We were quickly enveloped in the throng and the pounding rhythms. Blokes with buckets of paint chucking them over the crowd, people squirting all colours of the rainbow in my face, little kid tugging at my shirt asking for a piggy back so i oblige, more paint, more dancing, kid is squeezing my head now and its getting pretty uncomfortable so i try to bounce around a bit more hinting for him to dismount, im getting into it now, shackles are off and more paint smeared on my face feeling like wet sand. But whats that? Ah its pony tailed russian dude in his favourite crisp white shirt he's been wearing for 4 days straight, taking photos of the mob but only enjoying on the periphary, a man comes to him arms outstretched and palms open but pony tail ducks and weaves like a middle weight and turns inside, more take notice of the kerfuffle like the beginnings of a shark feeding frenzy, more come at him now and he's ducking and weaving like mohammed ali. One guy grabs an arm and he slips out of his wet purple hands but he can only struggle so much, like a python tightening its grip on its prey, the more he struggleds the worse it becomes, and its over in seconds, a gang of multicoloured arms and hands envelop him and he comes out with the face of a downtrodden devil and he wont be wearing that shirt again. Karma indeed.

After celebrating holi and several frustrating showers later we rented a scooter and headed for the hanuman temple atop a 576 or so set of steps. The roads were smooth and quiet (by indian standards) and cruising through the paddy fields to the templr and back was great fun. Im not quite max biaggi just yet. Aftet the incredibly testing ascent to the temple in baking hot air and scorching sun we were greeted by a subset of the macaque tribe who claim residency around the temple (hanuman is the monkey god and these fellas are his reincarnation or something). Anyway hanuman must have liked innate plastic objects as a little one took great joy in snatching mine out of my hands to fiddle with it and show off to his mum on the other wall. The temple itself is basic but the views were incredible. The monkeys were fairly tame but like in vattakanal theres always a shifty and pretty chunky alpha male on the loose to make sure you keep your wits about yourself. Unfortunately my phone ran out of juice so i couldnt take any photos. Niki has a couple on facebook so for those that know please check them out.

Hampi and vijayanagar ruins

We landed in hospet (the local transport hub for hampi) through a twelve hour, two leg bus journey, the second of which felt like it was driven by the ghost of colin macrae (rip). I never thought i would be literally thrown out of a bus window, only the prison style bars across it prevented me from it. The guy had his foot flat to the floor on either the accelerator or brake at any one time. It was kind of like being a passenger of a car in grand turismo where the controls are at the mercy of an angry three year old child. Once arrived in hospet and after we managed to pull our finger nails out of the seats in front of us and circulate some blood through our knuckles we jumped into a rickshaw and headed for hampi through paddy fields glistening in the moonlight, enjoying the cool evening desert breeze. We spent a night in the main bazaar and aimed for the other side of the river the following day to make a base for exploration. We came back across the river to check out some of the ruins.

The ruins and surrounding landscape are, in short, spellbinding. Everywhere as far as the eye can see there are huge boulders piled on top of one another in perculiar and precarious positions. You can see why many people feel a lot of spirituality here with the landscape holding some sort of grand design behind it all. Of course thats a load of crap, it all arose from a specific type of volcanic activity but that doesnt make it any less mesmerising to the eye. Anway we trundled our way through felt like a huge area but we must have only scratched the surface. We saw gigantic monolitic effigies of ganesh and the lion man god narasimha, miniature temples dotted across what looked like one massive piece sloped rock, a bath as big as an olympic swimming pool and countless temples dotted inbetween the rocks. We also came across a giant lingam in a shrine and surrounded by a pool. Ive recently learned that a lingam is an effigy if shivas twig and berries. So it seems strange to me that most of a nation can act and dress prudishly yet be more than comfortable blessing a giant penis.

We decided to chance it and take a walk through what we thought was an easily navigable set of ruins. It wasnt. After an hour of aimless walking in 40 degree heat and zero shade we decided we were lost and out of water. Niki's face was the colour of a beetroot and my brain felt like it was trying to escape from the pressure cooker that my skull had become. Luckily we remembered the way back to the main road and flagged down a rickshaw to take us back to town with our tails between our legs.

Mysore

We took another great goverment run (more expensive but no chickens in the aisle or babies in your lap) bus from ooty to mysore, we've been seriously lucky in the bus timings so far, one has been ready to go as we arrive at the station by rickshaw and both rickshaw drivers and bus conductors have been extremely helpful in helping us locate the correct vehicle.

Mysore is a great city, steeped in royal tradition with its picture postcard palace and historic market. There's a bourgeois feeling in the air and streets are lined with all manners of retailers selling clothes, jewels and electronic and household goods. The palace was simply stunning, especially when lit up by the 100,000 lightbulbs at night. The market was hectic but thoroughly enjoyable, so much fresh food i cant begin to describe as well as dry paints (for bindi and holi) and clothes for sale. We passes the one meat stall and nearly heaved up my lunch seeing all the flies and accidentally gulping down the putrid air that engulfed the street. I'm happily gonna stick to veg only here.

We had sone amazing food whilst in mysore and thank you to the om shanti restaurant for putting my faith back into south indian food, possibly the best thali of the trip and itll take some beating. 4 poori breads, rice, poppadom, dhal, two veg curries, sambar, chutney, curd and a sweet. All for a ludicrous 60 rupees and all of it tasted wonderful. We also tucked into some top streetfood; samosas done chat style, broken up with two sauces, mutter, mix and a mint and coconut chutney on top. We also had the same sort of thing but dolloped into little fragile puris which were a great light snack, light snack (only a  couple of you will laugh at the repetition of that statement).

Ooty

Ooty is a busy town perched high in the northern part of the western ghats, 2000m above sea level and heaves with indian holiday makers in the hotter months and we treated it as a bit of a pitstop on our way into karnataka. We arrived in true colonial spirit boarding the victorian mountain railway, taking in more stunning views and passing quaint little hill stations along the way. We found a new and very clean room in a little resort which looked on the outside like some sort of semi psychedelic new england abode with a daz-white wooden exterior, late 19th century sitting gardens and luminescent yellow curtains.

The highlight of our stay most definitely the botanical gardens with its huge trees and impeccable lawns (see pic). Apart from that there's not much to report, the move back into the cooler climbs was a relief from the long hot journey we took to to get there.

Shopping in the mountains

A collection of weird gubbins in a hillside shop and possibly the best samosa i have ever eaten.