Finally - the hotel from hell!

Pre-warning - I am in Goa but Delhi has left it's grubby mark on me that only Imodium will remove. So I may have to stop before I am finished. It is Feb 11 (my birthday) at 3:30 pm.

Ok, before I start I have to say more about FabIndia. This place has western clothing (which is what we would buy at an Indian clothing store in the west) and Indian clothes (which we can't buy in the west). It also has housewares, decorations and jewelery. I love FabIndia!!! As I mentioned, I bought two outfits but that does not do justice to my purchases. I bought two Kurtas (I may have that name wrong but they are long shirts/dresses that go to the knees) and two pairs of complimentary pants. One set was a top with white and Burgundy pattern and Burgundy pants. However, the second set is spectacular. Saffron pants and a purple top with gold trim! It looks great. You will get to know these outfits as they are in practically every picture. The outfits that Judy got for me were beautiful but neither one of them had pants that fit properly (keep the comments to a minimum here!). But the pants at FabIndia are the best. Why? Because I bought extra small (extra SMALL, no you don't understand - EXTRA small!) size pants. I am moving here. I don't have many pictures of myself so I will have to wait for Judy's pictures to show you my outfits.

Ok, back to the road. Last we left Bandipur and passed through Mysore to get to Nagarahole National Park. As I mentioned, Nagarahole did not have any available cabins so we were just going to go for the morning to do a safari or two and then head out. So Suresh suggested that we stay in Hunusur, the closest town to the entrance to the park - which opened at 6 am. He had never been to Hunusur but he figured it would be ok. ahem. Not ok, very not ok. We arrived in Hunusure at dusk. Suresh stops and asks about a place to stay. The men on the street suggest that there are only two hotels. We go to the first one. We didn't even go in. There were filthy rugs hanging in the 'lobby' to create rooms around the parked motorcycle. Second hotel up the street must have had more than a hundred bikes parked out front. Yup, biker bar on the first floor, hotel on the second. Suresh wouldn't even go in. He said we would sleep in the car before he let us go there.

The first scary hotel.

In front of the second scary hotel

More asking of random men on the street (we knew it was bad because there were NO women on the street). It seems there was a third hotel. Off we went, it was on the main drag. By now it is getting dark. I can't remember the name although I have a photo. It was over a restaurant so that was an improvement. We went up the very dark staircase, into the very cement and dusty hallway/storage area.

The third hotel - juuuust right. Well, just not as bad, but still very bad.

The hallway outside of our room. You know it's going to be good when the entrance is this fancy.

the view from the veranda (haha - actually the outside hallway)


Outside - the wild west feel was too much.

Into the room. Pictures will not do justice to this room. The double bed, grungy would be kind. The bathroom. Oh, the bathroom!

The bathroom: view 1

Anyway, creepy hotelier was happy to give it to us for 500 Rupees for the night. We looked at another room too which had a western toilet but believe it or not, it was actually worse than the squat toilet bathroom. So we took it. Then we negotiated 250R for the next room for Suresh, who would normally find his own place but we wanted him to be at screaming distance. The manager asked for our photo and proceeded to put his arms around us. SOOOOO not acceptable here. That scared us even more.

Our creepy host.

But, stuck as we were, we paid for the room, the manager assured us that his assistant who had been hanging around would bring fresh bedding. He was dispatched to, apparently, the only place that held something 'fresh' in the whole town. As soon as we had paid, I mean within seconds of money changing hands, the power went out. (Maybe the assistant cut the connection??? I just thought of that). Manager man brought us candles which he stuck dead centre of the only table which forced us to put our stuff on the floor. (Judy ended up with an ant infestation in her bathroom bag the next morning) Ok. We can deal with this. Judy and I, of course, by now, were pretty close to hysterical. Poor Suresh, he never knew when we would burst into uncontrolled laughter. After the inappropriate photo op, the manager left with assurances that the assistant would come back with the sheets (he never did) but we were never planning to get under those covers anyway. Thankfully, we both had brought the silk sheet liners so we got those out and got ready for bed.

I was the first to use the bathroom. I go to wash my hands in the sink. As I am standing there, with my little flashlight in my teeth (thank you, Alisma!) I feel something on my flip flopped feet. It seems the drain of the sink is just a hose that isn't actually attached to anything. So the water was just pouring onto my feet! More gales of laughter. When I brushed my teeth I just spit onto the bathroom floor, it probably made the floor cleaner!

The bathroom: view 2.

While Judy was in there, I got into bed. Ok, we have all slept in beds that are squeaky or make a bit of noise but this was a whole new dimension. First, the bed would groan, loudly. Then the groan would be immediately followed by a loud CRACK, much like a gunshot. And this happened every time (EVERY TIME!) I moved. It was not a restful sleep. At one point in the night, I woke up and Judy was sitting up, shaking with laughter. I had woken her up, yet again, by shifting in my sleep and setting off the bed/gun. Judy said when we woke up in the morning that she was having a nightmare that the pillow had come out of the silk sheet and she was sleeping directly on it. That would be a nightmare.

Fortunately, we had to get up at 4 am to get to Nagarahole by 6. So our night was short. I actually had a 'shower' in the morning, I felt to grubby, much to Judy's amazement. She couldn't believe I would spend more than the absolute minimum time in that bathroom. But I figured that the gigantic cockroach that was in there in the morning, needed some new dead skin follicles to live off of for the next few weeks until the next victims (oops, I meant visitors) arrived. Oh yeah, one last note before we peel out of Hunusur. There was a lock on the outside of our door, which we joked they were going to use to make us there white slaves. Haha, good joke. When we got up in the morning, our room door was not locked but when we went down the stairs, the door out of the hotel was deadbolted! I don't think we laughed at that point. Anyway, Suresh went and found someone on the right side of the locked door who had a key and let us out. Goodbye Hunusur!! (or as Judy named it 'Inasewer')Poor Suresh, I think he was horrified that he had put us in this place. He kept apologizing. But, as you all know, if it makes a good story, it is worth it.

We got to the Nagarahole gate by 6 am, and it promptly opened 20 minutes later. Once we got into the park, we only had the stamina for one 'safari' bus ride. No time to charm the bus driver this time so I had to ID my own birds. No elephants here but there was some wild buffalo on the way in. We saw the spotted deer, a few barking deer which look like dikdiks (wee), more wild dogs and some birds. It was so long ago, I don't remember which ones (they're in the book though). Oh wait, there was a crazy drongo with a awesome tail and a barbet or two. I'm not sure if it was worth the night in Hunusur, I know Judy doesn't think so since she slept through much of the bus ride.

The sun comes up in the forest.

A wild Buffalo.

A samba deer in the park while we waited for our safari.

Judy sleeping on the bus.

Mailing my postcards from the park to get the cool cancel mark.

Wait, back up a bit. We were planning to visit Little Tibet before Nagarahole which Judy was very excited about. She being a follower of the Buddha. But on our way from Bandipur, Judy was reading the Lonely Planet book and saw that there was a place to stay on a farm that had a 'veranda room' which was near the Golden Temple. We had been planning to visit Little Tibet (which has a real name but I didn't write it down) on the way to Nagarhole but when we called the farm (have I mentioned how excellent having a phone is) the veranda room was booked for the night we wanted, but was available for the next night. Again, we changed Suresh's well planned schedule (after the park business, I think he may have given up on it anyway). We booked and decided to go there after the Nagarahole. So we left the park by noon and headed to Little Tibet.

Leaving the park

A Giant Squirrel. They were big but they have very cute faces.

A domestic elephant near the village just outside of the park. Notice that he has been painted.

Then we came across this structure which I recognized was an elephant 'crushing' pen. We learned about those in Thailand and it is not nice.

Then we came across this poor fellow, chained up.

Haha, you didn't think we would go straight there did you? Silly reader - there was a temple on the way. We were in the mountains by now (geography of the region??). We stopped at a very boring temple, in my now temple-experienced opinion. It was new and modern (for a temple). But Suresh said there was a waterfall behind it (side question: why doesn't anyone put the parking lot for the waterfall at the TOP of the hill?) Up we went, at the hottest time of the day. At least we could wear shoes. It was actually a very beautiful walk up and we looked spry compared to the old Indian ladies in full Sari (ok, not spry, but we kept up to most of them - ok, some of them).

The river before the ascent.

Ladies crossing the river.

Some women who passed us on the stairs.

Our first view of the waterfall.

Getting closer.

The staircase wasn't too too strenuous and we made it to the top to a gorgeous waterfall full of worshippers. (remember back to the river I mentioned before with the ritual bathing. The waterfall was like that but looked much cleaner.) There was lots of boys and young men in underpants right under the falls. The ladies were sticking to the slow moving pool off to the side.

Arriving at the top.

A tentative dip on the edge.

Heading in.

In we went, fully clothed. Just up to our legs. One of the old ladies chastised me for wearing my shoes, I hadn't realized this was still 'temple' so I had to get out because there was no way I was going onto the jagged rocks barefooted.

Judy in the pool.

It was colder than it looked.

Judy goes to the men's pool.

Anyway, it was all good fun, the locals were really enjoying their outing.

Once they were in, it was a free for all.



The men.

Is splashing each other part of the worshipping?

Once we were back on the stairs down, we got to take pictures of pretty much everyone and they in turn, took our picture. We are part of many family portraits that day. Then off to Sri Kalpa farm at little Tibet. Which I will save for the next post. The air outside seems to be cooler and the Imodium seems to be holding - wish me luck!!

Some pictues from the road.
Girls (and one boy)

The boy without the girls.

Working in the field.

Pointsettas grow wild here, this one was on the side of the road.

I promise - more is coming

AAA, I am having the hardest time getting to post. the previous two about Suresh and Judy I wrote on Judy's computer and sent to myself which is why I managed those. I won't even go into this morning's internet fiasco because I only have a few minutes. I am leaving Delhi (none too soon) and heading to Goa - where I assume that there is at least one functioning computer WITH internet. I am sooooo far behind!!!!

Judy in the sky with no diamonds

Judy and her money troubles – with a dash of India thrown in to complicate matters even more.

Wayyyy back when Judy and I were at the Indian Consulate in Vancouver, we met a young man (I think I mentioned this, the Tibetan Indian with the doctor sister) who told Judy that Credit Union bank cards don’t work in India. So before she left, Judy opened a Scotiabank account so that she could access her money. However, when she opened the account and set up her pin# she was only given the choice to make it 5 digits. Not being the ultra savvy traveler such as me (haha – I think this blog proves the opposite but I digress), Judy didn’t realize the disastrousness of that fifth digit. So she hasn’t been able to withdraw any money from an ATM since she arrived. But being industrious (and a self declared ‘jewelry slut’) she figured out how to get money. She met a jewelry seller in the market in Puttaparthi (where she was staying with Priscilla) who would sell her something sparkly using her visa card. But he would charge more to Visa and give her the difference at a very reasonable charge. It was all working so well. Judy got money AND a huge jewelry collection. But on her last night in Puttaparthi, just before leaving for the airport to pick me up, she went for one last visit to Baba’s ashram. I guess there was a big, tightly packed crowd kneeling before Baba when the person behind Judy, opened her purse and took her money (only a couple hundred rupees) AND her Visa card!!! She doubts that the person even tried to use the card, it was just in with the money. But it meant that Judy now had no access to money. She called Visa to cancel the card and they said Visa International could send her a new card within 48 hours but Judy wasn’t going to be returning to Priscilla’s so she didn’t have anywhere to have to card sent. But it is okay because, again, she is a smart cookie.

Scotiabank has a link right on her internet banking page to send cash anywhere in the world!! Perfect, so she sent herself money via Western Union. That lasted for the first week. But now new problems. Only a week from the end of her trip, her Scotia account was basically drained. Her real cash was in her credit union account, which does not have a nice Western Union Button on their website. This tale again reminds me why I use the evil conglomerate of the big bank.

I don’t know if I mentioned that Judy bought a cell phone to use while in India (which is so brilliantly handy that I am basically ruined for easy travelling). So while on a long stretch of drive (on the way to Hampi – we aren’t there yet in the blog) Suresh said that Judy should have her Visa Card sent to his house so that she would have it when we went to Delhi. Excellent Plan! Of course, you being the intelligent audience that you are, you realize that nothing is easy in India. But at that point, we went with it.

Judy called Scotia Bank call centre (as it turns out it is in Vancouver – irony anyone?) She spoke to Calem. He was very nice but the new card had to be ordered through Visa International. Now keep in mind, Judy is calling from the car on the road, driving through the country side so her conversation was regularly interrupted with horn blasts, cow avoiding swerves and general mayhem. I’m sure Calem is still talking about Judy in the Scotia Visa break room.

Calem gave Judy the Visa International phone number for India. So far, so good. Judy hangs up and tries the number. It doesn’t work. Calls Calem back who assures her it is correct. Calls the number again, still nothing. Tries Suresh’s phone which has better range. Zip. Calls Calem back. Calem asks around, no additional info from his end. Judy hangs up. I suggest we attempt variations on the number. We guess that perhaps the India Visa International office is in Bombay so we try calling with that city code. We try all the codes of major cities. Suresh calls some info line to see if they know how to get through. Nope .

So I get Judy to call Calem back and I take the phone. I am pissed that this is so freaking complicated. I say to Calem that the number is not accessible and that he has to patch us through. Duh!! Oh, what a good idea. ARRRGG. So he calls Visa International and I put Judy back on the phone. He and Judy and the Visa International lady have a bit of a confab where I think Calem had to explain how this all works to the lady. But all is going well. Calem hangs up and leaves Judy on the line with Visa International lady. Judy is ready with Suresh’s address and her visa info etc. Just as she is getting started she interrupts Visa lady and says, ‘please give me a contact number where I can reach you, the number I have doesn’t work’ when (of course) the phone cuts out. At this point, we had been working on this for about two hours. So that was it, neither of us could face calling Calem back. So new Visa plan – a no go.

Next day, new plan. I would show Judy how to set up a Bank to Bank transfer so she could get money from her credit union account to her Scotia Bank account so she could use Western Union. So, there we are in incredible Hampi, World Heritage site (blog to follow eventually) in an internet place (which didn’t even have coffee!!!) trying to somehow get money out of the credit union. They don’t have a transfer system (I love you Royal Bank!). If you want to get money out of this cursed Credit Union, you have to set up a HyperWallet account. Now remember we are in a hole in the wall internet place (where if you recall that morning a monkey had invaded) where I believe security to be absolutely non-existent. But Judy sets up a HyperWallet account and deposits $1000. Great. The site made it sound so easy (you would think I would learn). They said you can send money to anyone with an email account. So Judy, logically, tries to send it to herself. Ummm, not allowed. WHY NOT???!!!! We still didn’t know how it all worked, it’s not like you can withdraw from an email account. But we blindly plodded on. Ok, so Judy sent $100 to my email account. It let her do that. So I open my email on Judy’s computer and it tells me that I have to sign up to Hyperwallet too. Ok. So I open the link and it takes me to the Credit Union site. Since I don’t know Hyperwallet from nothin’ I fill in my info (uncomfortably – if there was a key stroke trace on that computer some Indian hacker owns my life). So far so good (haha – you know what that means). Once I have set up my account, I go to sign in so that I can access Judy’s $100 bucks but the site won’t let me in because my email address is already being used. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I guess the computer had opened Judy’s Hyperwallet account info which was still open on the computer when I tried to link in. I haven’t confirmed this yet, but I don’t think Judy is going to have an easy time accessing that remaining $900 because I think I changed her access info by accident. So I set up another account, using another email address. By this time, Judy had left me to the easy job of signing up to go to Western Union. She had sent herself the last dregs of cash she had left in her Scotia account. By this time, I was seeing the computer screen through a haze of murderous red. My new email address still didn’t work. That was it!!! I had a total spazz and gave up. It was now 2 pm, we had been working on this since 10 am. Judy and Suresh had to take me to a Western restaurant and feed me Pizza before I could calm down.

So plan number two in the squat toilet. New plan – thankfully not involving me as I don’t think I could take another one and keep my sanity. Did I mention that Judy, who is the one with no money, has remained calm and collected during all of this. Maybe all of that Temple time has something to it.
Next new plan. Judy called Morgan, her son, to use some of his money to put into her Scotia Bank account so she could Western Union it. However, Scotia Bank doesn’t list the full account number on their internet banking site (for security reasons I assume) but since Judy had just opened the account she didn’t have the number memorized and the piece of paper she wrote it on was in the pilfered purse. Morgan gave it a go but the bank wouldn’t deposit the money without a proper account number. Keep in mind that each of these steps takes a full day since we are on opposite day/night schedules. So Judy finds out the next day that Morgan was unsuccessful. Next next new plan. Morgan goes to Western Union directly the next day to send the money to Judy. But apparently, Morgan doesn’t have any government ID so he had to go and get a BCID (what a trooper – this probably took him all day) and then go back to complete the transaction. By now, it is two days after the internet fiasco and we are about to leave Hampi early because we have a 10 hour drive ahead of us. Judy checks her internet. She had an email saying the deed was done and giving her the access code. So close!!! Next stop, Western Union office. Closed. Next one closed. They won’t open for 30 minutes but we were eager to get going so we decided that we would stop on the way. There are Western Union offices everywhere here.

But we were driving through agricultural nowhere land. Lots of trees and farms but alas, no Western Union offices. We finally drove through a town of slightly moderate size and found an office. Judy heads in and (wait for it….) it was closed. They close early on Saturdays and as they informed Judy, no Western Union office would be open until Monday. OH, FOR GOD SAKE!!!!

By now I am getting low too but off we went to our flight to Delhi. After paying for our taxi (Suresh’s brother) and something to eat on the plane, we landed in Delhi with only 500 rupees between us. That’s about 12 bucks. The pre-paid cab kiosk was inside the airport, the money changer outside. No reentry. But finally a bit of good luck, we had enough to pay the cab, then I changed some traveler’s cheques so we were flush again.

So now after what will be a hilarious post about our arrival in Delhi, it is Monday morning and we are about to head out to find a Western Union office. Sweet Sweet OPEN Western Union office.

Yes, I know that this has been a long post but I had to LIVE it, just be glad you only had to read about it.

Suresh

Suresh.

Suresh (photo stolen from Judy's webalbum)

I keep talking about Suresh in this blog but never really give any background – like how did I end up in the back of Suresh’s cab!! Now that Judy and I are on our own in Delhi, I appreciate Suresh even more. I make fun but he is really a gem. As you can imagine, spending 11 days in a car with someone, it is pretty hard to think of Suresh as our driver, he was one third of our traveling team – at least in our minds – in reality, it was somewhat blurry.

Some Suresh background. If you remember way back when I was first planning this trip, it was all because Judy was planning to come to India to visit her friend Priscilla. I never eventually saw Priscilla in the end and never stayed in her apartment so she sort of exited stage left in my blog but she was integral in the Suresh connection.

Judy and Suresh at the waterfall.

Even further background. (fuzzy here). From what Judy tells me, Suresh grew up near the Ashram of Baba. All I can glean about Baba is that his followers believe that he is a living God. I don’t know if this makes him a Swami, a Guru, what?? Apparently he is on his second of three incarnations. Again, I don’t know if he is a Hindu god or just some other type of god. As I have mentioned, Suresh is a Hindu who follows (?) Shiva so Baba must fit into this somehow.

Priscilla is also a devotee of Baba which is why she comes to India so often, she has apartments near two of his ashrams. While Judy was staying with Priscilla, she went to a couple of sermons (? – this blog is really bringing out my western-centrism) and hung out with some other devotees that Priscilla knows. But she can’t even enlighten me on the Baba thing.

Judy and Suresh enjoy a coconut at the Golden Temple.

One last thing about Baba because Baba is a real influence on the type of person Suresh is. From what I can tell, Baba has a lot of Western devotees who donate lots of money. Baba uses some (or maybe most, what do I know) of this money for good works. He has built numerous hospitals and other works for the benefit of the poor. Being a devote follower of Baba, Suresh is a true believer in Sava (spelling?). Sava is ‘doing good work’ for no personal benefit.

This entire preamble is to explain why, despite my scary books on India about how anyone and everyone will try to rip me off, I totally trusted Suresh. He was honest to the core; he would even remind waiters that they had forgotten to add one coffee to our bill – thanks Suresh.

Suresh listening intently to our guide at the Dancing Girl temple.

So, as I am sure you have already figured out, Judy met Suresh through Priscilla. Suresh has a large client base through the Baba family. Judy and Priscilla took a road trip with Suresh before I got here (see Judy’s pictures for beautiful photographic detail). So when I arrived, Judy had arranged for us to take another trip, which is what you are reading about on this blog!!

Suresh is married with one son. He lives with his wife, son, mother, father, and his wife’s parents. He is the family earner. He seems quite devoted to his family.
Just one more thing – Suresh dotes on Judy like she is his mother. But he also sort of treats her like a child, chiding her if she does anything that Suresh thinks is foolish eg, the Sari incident or if she lets people see her open wallet. (He would always say that I would have to take care of Judy once we went to Delhi).

He loved Judy's camera and was always willing to take out picture. This one is in Hampi.

Needless to say, Judy and Suresh had a special relationship. Some of the conversations were hilarious because Judy would ask questions that I would never have broached. Like the one about ladies undergarments or the one about circumcision!! But the topper was the question about gay Indian men. Side note: men here are very affectionate toward each other. They hold hands on the street and walk around with their arms around each other. It is very (very!) common, much more common to see men touching than to see couples or women holding hands. Anyway, this led Judy to ask Suresh if there were many gay men in India. He asked ‘what does that mean.’ So Judy clarified by saying ‘men who love each other and get married’. You should have seen Suresh’s eyes. They were like saucers!! ‘How is this possible?” he asked – looking like his world and head were about to explode. This is where I stepped in because I just could bear to see the results of the explanation. I said ‘it isn’t possible, haha, there is no such thing.’ He looked a little less horrified but I’m pretty sure the thought is still churning around in his head.

Suresh helping Judy chose street purfume (so many things wrong with that sentence...)

Suresh waiting while Judy takes a picture from an aquaduct. Another odd sentence.

Anyway, now when I talk about Suresh, you will have a better idea of who I am talking about.

Pre-Warning - the internet here is up and down so hopefully I will get a full post here. Keyboard seems ok. It is 7 am.

Judy and I got back to Bangalore last night, our 11 day taxi trip has finished and we are heading to Delhi today.

During our last chat, Judy, Suresh and I had left Bandipur Park and were heading through Mysore to get to Nagarhole Park. But before we get to today's final destination, we have a couple of stops on the way (of course).

Before we stopped for lunch, Suresh suggested we stop at a temple. Side note: as I mentioned Suresh is a Hindu and there are alot of Hindu temples here so naturally we stop at quite a few, but to Suresh's credit, we have also visited a Muslim Mosque, a Christian church, a couple of Jain temples and probably some stuff I didn't even realize was unique. Plus, a Hindu temple isn't just a Hindu temple, it might be a Shiva temple or a temple to some other Hindu god - which for the life of me, I cannot keep straight. I rememeber Shiva because that is Suresh's guy.

So, when Suresh mentioned stopping at another temple I just assumed it was one of those run of the mill - 500 year old temples with a few folks wandering around with red dye on their heads, men in loin clothes etc. But no - this was a special temple. I don't know why but it was on a river (which makes a temple more special it seems). So before going into the temple (is there any other word for temple?!) we went to the river to wash!! I kid you not!! Ok, mental image here: There is a long (wide) staircase leading down from the bank to the river below. There are hundreds of people in various states of dress at the water's edge, bathing. And I mean bathing. While the women here are very modest - no sleeveless tops here, thank you very much - the older ladies can shuck off their clothes as long as it is in the name of whichever god we are dealing with. So we have topless old ladies, young men in just their wet skivies, young girls in full saris washing their exposed bits - mostly feet and faces, old men in wet loinclothes. And apparently, part of the ritual washing includes laundry. So all of the above were also washing their clothes. And all around the bank and on every fence, surface, edge, wet clothes were hanging to dry. The river itself was disgusting with a mass of mush floating out in the center, just away from reaching arms. Under the water, there was clothes, swaying in the current, bright clothes under the murky water - it was crazy eerie. I had vision of dead people rising (ala Lord of the Rings) up from the water to snatch us under. I'm sure the pictures will not do the underwater world justice.

The 'camp' on the way to the river's edge

Everyone getting ready for a dip.

Look close, all of those shapes in the water are lost clothes. That's what I am telling myself anyway...

Yup. Naked old ladies.

Laundry.


So Suresh heads down to the water to do a wash, thankfully just his hands and a splash on the face and hair - he may have drank some too. By now, we were being watched by all of those not enraptured so I gave it a go. I went to the edge, dipped my hands in and put some water in my hair (this is an acceptable substitute for drinking it). Judy did the same. Then we scrubbed ourselves with baby wipes from fingers to shoulders.

Going in

This is actually happening!! It was even grosser and yet cooler close up.

And a hasty retreat. I like the way I hold up my skirt with my disgusting hands, I guess to protect it from the dirt on the ground.

One would think that this was sufficient to prove that we could take whatever India could throw at us but one would be wrong, we still had the actual temple to visit! Across the road (which in itself is always a life threatening event) to the temple. Wait, I have a name for those of you who google. The river is Kapila river, the temple is Nanjundeswar and the town in which these are situated is Nanjanaguda. Yeah, No, I did not remember those - Suresh wrote them down for me. We get to the temple and there is a line so long, I have no concept of how long it is. We couldn't even see the beginning or the end. Thousands of people trying to get in to worship Shiva and his minions (other incarnations? - I am a terrible anthropologist). So Suresh leads us to the 'skip the queue' queue. This cost us 200 rupees. In we go. Here I am at a loss for words. Remember back when I described the glass house in the garden in Bangalore and I said there were soooo many people. That was NOTHING compared to this place. People were shoving and mashing. There was a women behind me who I swear I could tell you her cup size and how many children she has had (C and three), she was pressed up against me flat on. And she wasn't happy that I wasn't equally pressed up against the person in front of me. (side note - an extra special thanks to Tanya for the small backpack lock which gave me a bit of security here).

I think I have alluded to the fact that people cannot wear shoes into temples (or take cameras so not pictures unfortunately). As most of you know, I have crap feet and this just about kills me. In this case, no shoes, lots of other feet and god knows what on the floor. Judy kept saying, 'don't look down'. Like I could anyway, there was no space between me and the guy in front. We finally made it through the various narrow passages and gates which lessened the crush somewhat. But now we are in a cave. I think the temple was actually cut out of rock, or maybe it was just so dark and dank, it seemed that way. Temples consist of lots of little rooms (or enclaves in smaller ones) dedicated to various gods. This one was an ant hill reproduction. Each little room had it's own crowd trying to get to the front to dip into the holy water/oil (?) and to get a bit of bindi - the red (or white or yellow) powder for the forehead dot. Suresh was right in there. I hit one so that I was sufficiently dotted and then stuck to the edges as much as I could. also at random places (sometimes right in the stream of traffic) people have lit little fires. This adds a new sense of fun - try to not catch fire!! And the smoke!! did I mention we were in a cave - sure, but did I also mention caves don't have proper ventilation. I started coughing about half way through. Good hacking coughs. Awesome. But wait there's more. At one point, for reasons unknown (joke, blessing, playful boyishness), Suresh splashed us with a bit of holy water. It landed right in my eye. So now, my feet are crawling with things I don't want to think about, my stomach has likely ingested something from the river (nail biters should not come to India), my lungs are completed blocked and now my eyes have been contaminated!

We made it out alive of course, and for all of my whinging, no the worse for wear - and with an excellent story to boot. I must say, having Suresh at the helm has taken us places that most tourists just would not normally see.

Outside the temple. A Shiva (I think) statue under construction.

One of the dangers of public laundry day.

Butter candles outside the temple entrance.

One last bit, Suresh is picking us up in 10 minutes to go to the airport. While we were passing through Mysore, Judy had Suresh stop at FabIndia. This is a clothing etc store that my Women in India book had mentioned.

FabIndia!!!!!!!

A mosque in Mysore.

A typical shopping street.

While I was waiting for Suresh and Judy to pick up the blouse, I watched this family shop for hand made metal pots. It was a big decision and, of course, attracted a crowd of onlookers.

The final decision on the pots. I loved the look of these hand crafted metal crafts, but, alas, no room to bring home a huge pot.

I just signed back on. it is now three days later and see that the internet went down before I could finish. suffice it to say that FabIndia's name is APT! Is is Fab!! I bought two new Indian outfits and a tablecloth and a nice shirt which may or may not end up as a gift.

Lunch in Mysore. The very best dish I had in India. A cauliflower nut spicy concoction!! I never would have guessed.

Sorry for the delayed post. there will be two more today so you're welcome for the bonanza of blog!.

a tiger hunting we will go....

(prewarning - terrible keyboard here - expect typos)

Right now we are in Hampi. Judy and Sureh went into the temple for '10 minutes' so that Suresh can do his thing. After an hour waiting in the blazing sun I decided to hit the internet, where it is guaranteed that we will never find each other. oh well, for blog purposes, we are still a week away from Hampi. On with our travels.

I believe that last we discussed, we were just entering the Ministry of Forests office on Friday morning to get something or other to enter Nagarahole National Park. Side note about Indian business hours. Pretty much nothing opens here before 10 am. Sounds awesome I thought when I first arrived, but I have been waking up by 7 am each day, so less awesome. Anyway, we had to wait til 10 to go to the government office. The office was hard to find and involved alot of asking random men on the street for directions. At one point we had three guys pointing in three separate directions. I wish I had gotten a picture. The is the exception to Judy's observation/rule that no matter who you ask or where you want to go, the person will say 'go straight'.

So after much backing and forthing, we found the office. (eeek, lots of yelling and arm waving, a black faced languor just came into the internet place!!!) When we arrived we had a vague plan; go to Nagarahole. I'm sure Suresh had more of an idea but either he can't convey this to us or he chooses not to elaborate. (I am going to have to write a whole post just about the foibles of Suresh.) We find the office and much gibber gabbing (I say that with the utmost respect for the various Indian languages but it really is incomprehensible). Suresh informs us that there is no space for two more nights. We wouldn't be able to go until Monday night. I should mention here that another man had arrived in the tiny office. He was just standing in the doorway, I didn't know why but it is fairly normal to have onlookers for all transactions.

The National Park Office for Nagarahole and Bandipur. It was just a partition at the end of a hallway.

Suresh and Ravipoor checking schedules.

The closest we got to an actual tiger was the stuffed dead one the Park guy showed us.

There is another park somewhere around Mysore ( I am fuzzy on the geography of this trip) so I got Suresh to ask about that one, Bandipur National Park. They had space for this very night. But by now (nothing happens quickly here) it was almost noon. We needed to discuss so we went outside and had a sit down. We were trying to map out our schedule to go to both parks. It turns out that 'booking' at this office is for a cabin but you can go to the park without a permit. Then the man who had been in the doorway of the office wandered over and talked to Suresh. It seems that he and his family were also planning to visit the park. There was much discussion about sleeping quarters. I believe that the man, who I have since learned is named Roopashree, and Suresh were going to share a cabin. Unfortunately, that didn't work out. Another future post topic - drivers and their sleeping arrangements. Anyway, between the three of us and our new friend we decided to spend Friday night at Bandipur, Saturday in the park, then back through Mysore, then a day trip to Nagarahole on Sunday. Lots of park, lots of birds - at least I hoped lots of birds.

So back into the office to book our cabin for tonight, a call to our current Mysore hotel to cancel and check out (fortunately they didn't charge us for a late checkout). Then off we went. I had noticed a sign on the office wall about 'safaris' through the parks from 6am to 9am and 6pm to 8pm. We got to Bandipur at about 6pm so we quickly checked in and got our cabin.

The view of the road and the neighbours from our cabin deck.

Unloading the car at the Bandipur cabin.

And then we leapt onto a 'safari' bus. Us and 40 Indian tourists. The bus was a 50 year old rickety school bus with dusty windows and a surly driver. At least I got a window seat but it wasn't exactly what I was expecting after our wonderful Africa Safari experiences. However, the bus was full so off we went, rattling like it was about to fall apart. I couldn't believe that any animal wouldn't run and hide from the noise 15 minutes before we were even close. We saw lots of spotted deer. And there were birds but we barely slowed down for the animals, let alone the birds. I had a theory that the driver had a weight criteria for animals - I figured about 40 kilos. He would stop for spotted bucks but not for does but he would stop for does of a larger species - Samba? - I guess they were big enough. Near the end of the hour trip, we passed a lake on the other side of the bus. I could see tons of ducks, but I couldn't turn around in my seat and he kept rolling the bus so even over my shoulder I couldn't get a bead on any of them. This has been my luck with ducks - I can never get to look closely enough. I have lots of birds but I just can't get a duck!

Judy and Suresh on the bus.

What I could see from my seat.

Valiently trying though.

By the time I turned around we were at the end of the lake with no ducks!

Spotted deer, lots of spotted deer.

Right before we got back to the station, I saw my first wild peacock. Very exciting - everyone on the bus got excited, there was much muttering of 'national bird' possibly for our benefit. Once we got back, we asked if another bus was going to go around that evening? - only if enough people showed up. After wandering around for awhile and avoiding very aggressive monkeys - one snuck up behind me and unzipped my backpack!. Eventually another bus load was ready. This time I got up front and our driver was nicer. We chatted him up a bit so he pointed out some birds for me. But the best part was that we saw wild Asian Elephants. Cool!! And a pack of six wild dogs. Also cool!! We didn't pass the lake again so still no ducks but we did see a serpent eagle (no picture of the eagle though).

Our unnamed evening driver. Even the 'shaky man' setting on my camera couldn't handle the park roads!

Wild Asian Elephants. Not as majestic as the African, but harder to find!! These were the only ones we saw.

A male peacock (technically that's redundant - it's a male peafowl)

Wild dogs.

Doesn't it just look like the family dog. But, apparently, they are vicious and a pack can take down a tiger.

We went to dinner in the park restaurant/buffet where we met up with Roopashree and family. We met his sister and her new husband, his mother and more. Dinner was unnoteworthy. Our cabin was 'quaint'. There were mosquito nets over the beds, mine had mice poop in it. Judy woke up in the night to something large landing on hers so were glad to have them. We slept in our silk sleeping liners. It was pretty cold. Judy had given her very scratchy blanket to Suresh - he had arranged with the guard to sleep in the ranger station - so I'm sure she was uncomfortable. But the cabin was plunked down in the middle of a forest/field and we were surrounded by deer which we could see by the full moon so it was pretty incredible.

Spotted deer surrounding our cabin.

Our netted beds

A blurry full moon.



The next morning I wanted to be on the first bus at 6 so I made Judy get up at 5 am so we would be ready. Breakfast would be at 8:30 so I figured we could get two trips in before then. Of course, I forgot where I was - India! We were there before any staff. Then after 30 minutes the guard showed up to open the office. Another 15 minutes for the man who controls the sign in book. Then 20 minutes to light the incense and do altery things. Then a few more minutes to get the book and the money etc etc before it looked like we might be able to buy our tickets. A tour guide/bus driver had shown up by then and was washing his front window so I got Judy to go stand near it. First in line for tickets I have learned does not mean first on the bus. All of a sudden Judy is getting on the bus and waving me over. We had been invited to go and open the gates before the first tour by James, the guide. Judy is such a charmer!!!

James, our coffee addicted, birding driver.

We didn't see anything too exciting on that trip but we did get to know James and he is very keen on birds so when we finally got our tickets and the real tour happened, he saved us the front seats - I got to sit in the 'guide seat' up front with the driver. So now we have our tickets, we are on the bus, there are other passengers but we still didn't leave. The driver needed a coffee. Fortunately, he invited Judy and Suresh to join him and they brought one back for me too. If one has to wait, might as well have coffee. Finally at 7:40 we started. Lucky we got up at 5! James pointed out lots of birds and stopped the bus while I looked at them with the binoculars. My binos always win me friends, everyone loves to look through them. And he was astounded by the bird book. If they weren't so bloody expensive, I would bring ten so I could hand them out. He knew his birds (at least to the family if not the species). When we got back, we dispatched Suresh to buy another round of tickets so that we could keep our good seats. Judy had a nap and I went off for more coffee with James. I think he is more of a bean junkie than me and Judy. The coffee shop was a cement hut and the coffee was served in metal cups like the ones they give you with dip at White Spot - just a quick shot. Second trip started at 10 am. More birds, more wild dogs but no more elephants and definitely no tigers, which are the big draw here. The park is actually called a tiger reserve but we had been warned it isn't 'tiger season'. We did come across some fresh prints in the road. They were big and the claw marks were impressive. We didn't get back until after 11:15 but breakfast was still available so we had a quick bite, packed up and headed out. We needed to pick up Judy's blouse (see prev post) which was at that time being made in Mysore. I will stop there. Judy is having some serious money issues. She can't access her main bank account here and her visa card was stolen out of her purse (at an ashram) so we are going to try to set up a money transfer via internet. Should be good. Next post - we finally get to the hinted at worst hotel ever.


Another monkey video. You can never watch enough monkey videos (it's true). That's Suresh's voice giving the commentary. 'Judy, Look! Judy!!