46 hours on a train, and hardly a word said.

I am writing this as I am on my way from Kochi to Delhi, to meet my pal from Bristol, Ingmar. For the mode of transport, I had two options - the faster and more expensive one (aeroplane) or the cheaper and much, much slower one (train). Needless to say, as I am a tight bastard, I chose to take the train. It takes forty-six hours, and is costing me around £8.50.

What is making the journey in equal parts both interesting and boring, is that nobody around me seems to speak a word of English. Usually when I'm with a group of Indian people, at least one person has a basic grasp of the Queens language and takes a keen interest in me.

This is a typical conversation with a rickshaw driver:

Driver: name?
Bill: Bill. Yours?
D: coming from?
B: England
D: ah. Very good country. Lots of money. Married?
B: nope
D: girlfriend?
B: no
D: many girlfriends?
B: haha, no
D: you are lyinnggg!

Which is very flattering. But none the less.

It's been interesting getting an idea of the personality of people in my compartment without the aid of language, just by body language and tone of voice.

Ingmar in all his glory, in the grounds of the red fort, in Delhi

The neighbours

There's the guy in his 30's who likes watching Hollywood films on his massive phone and sits down with a real thud - he can be quite loud when he gets going chatting to others, but the only thing he has said to me is 'we sleep now' when it was time to assemble our beds last night.

There's another chap, probably in his 40's, presumably a businessman, with a fine and proud moustache. I think he looks like a stern chipmunk, I'm reading a book which is on its last legs, and when half of its pages blew out on to the floor, he very kindly picked them up for me. 

Then there's the very cute father and daughter. The father is very serious but with a kind face and he hardly says anything to anyone, just sits with a faint smile. I think he is shy. His daughter is a pretty lass who is probably around 18, and really seems to look after her dad. She is always making sure he has what he needs, and there seems to be a really warm affection between them. 

Finally, there is the younger lad, also probably around 18. I think he's taken a bit of a shining to the girl, and seems to be trying to chat her up under the watchful eye of her father. He has a cheeky face, is very chatty towards everyone, and I'm guessing he's pretty funny due to the others reactions. But he can't keep his feet still, which was fine until he was sat opposite me and kept giving me little kicks. 

The busy streets of Delhi

What I found odd, but quite nice, was that they would all eat at the same time. The loud Hollywood fan, the chipmunk businessman, the cute father and daughter and the young foot fidgeter would all simultaneously get their meals out of their bags and start eating - at fairly innocuous times like 13:40!

Because I am bored, I'm going to try and fill in the gaps. 

Loud Hollywood Fan - I reckon he has been to Kochi from Delhi on holiday - to meet up with 'the lads'. He's on the way home to his wife, and the daily grind.

Chipmunk Businessman - heading to Delhi on a very important business trip, trying to take his toothpaste business nationwide. He's a strict father and husband, but a bit of a softie really. 

Cute Father and Daughter - the father, a widower, has brought the girl up himself. But she is getting older and more responsible, and the role of carer is shifting from father to daughter. She is going to her University in Delhi from her home in Kerala, and he has joined her to make sure she arrives safely, and also to catch a glimpse of her life in the north. 

Young Foot Fidgeter - was going to visit his aunt in Kerala, and hang out with his cousins. But he also saw it as an opportunity to hang out on the beach, and test his womanising skills. 

I'm sure I'm completely wrong about these assumptions, but it's kinda nice that I'll never know.

Oh that's nice isn't it

Here's some more choice pics from Delhi and Agra:

Ingmar, no doubt very politely telling someone to fuck off

I was a bit embarrassed to forget my red beret

Fellow Englishman at the grounds of Humayun's Tomb

Humayun's Tomb itself

First glimpse of the Taj

Hikes, Treks and Safaris

Before I start harking on, I thought I would post this song, as it has definitely been the soundtrack of my trip so far, and has basically been coming out of my headphones constantly.

A few weeks ago, I decided to part from my pals Elton (a Dutch techno DJ/ trainee doctor) and Dominik (a hilariously immature yet intelligent Swiss banker in training), and instead of joining them to travel to Kochi, I went off in search of some nature.

Dominik, me and Elton in Mysore

Ever since, I have been flirting between the states of Kerala and Tamil Nadu, following my nose in search of some top landscapes and interesting wildlife.

Although I have been at times frustrated by the lack of infrastructure for hikers or by Indian restrictions in national parks, and I have been at times a bit (naively) disappointed that I haven't been constantly spotting elephants or fighting off tigers, I have had a really great time.

Wayanad, Kerala 

First port of call was Wayanad, which I went to on the recommendation of my mate Lonely Planet. The most fantastic part of my time in Wayanad was actually en route, on the bus. The surroundings went from barren farmland, to beautiful thick forest pretty quickly. I spent the whole time with my head stuck out of the window, which actually came back to bite me on the arse when a charming gentleman towards the front of the bus performed a common act in India - spitting out of the vehicle. As you may already be picturing, the mans spittle went flying out of his window, back in through mine and landed squarely on my forehead. Lovely. 

Anyway, further on into the journey, I was staring out of my window when I heard cries of excitement from my fellow passengers and felt a tap on my shoulder from the chap sat behind me. I looked to where he was pointing, out the window on the other side of the bus, to see some wild elephants! It was my first time seeing any in the wild, so it was pretty special. Especially after seeing the worlds saddest elephant chained up in a Hampi temple, giving 'blessings' to anyone who gave it 10 rupees. 

The whole bus journey was beautiful, but I didn't take any pictures. This was partly due to the fact that I didn't want to faff around to get my camera in case I missed anything good, and partly because I was on my own and kind of wanted to keep the moment between me and myself.   

The day after I arrived, I went on a 'safari', where I paid quite a bit of money to be carted around in a jeep, which stopped every so often for the driver to point and abruptly say 'wild chicken' or 'spotted deer', before quickly moving on. It was quite annoying, but at least I got to see the arse of this elephant.

There's that elephant arse

The day after, me and an English couple, Arthur and Kate, decided to go solo and find a walk without a guide or a jeep. The locals, when asked, all said 'no, no, there are no walks around here', which seemed ridiculously unlikely seeing as the town was surrounded by mountains and forests. So I consulted the google maps and located what looked like a path, and a bit of a route through the forest. Luckily, it was, and we had a stunning walk through tea plantations, hills and woods.

Gives a bit of a representation of the different greens on display

Excellent foliage

Tea plantations and mountains

Ooty, Tamil Nadu

Next stop was Udhagamandalam. Fortunately for me, the English during the British Raj found this as difficult to get their tongue round as I do, and gave it a second, more anglicised name - Ooty. I decided to delay Kochi again by exploring this messy, smelly, but kind-of charming hill station, which I hadn't heard of before it was suggested by fellow travellers who I met in Wayanad. It's right up in the mountains, and I took quite a lot of joy in having to put my jumper on for the cold evenings. You can take the boy out of Yorkshire..........

I went on a fantastic hike, led by a local called Anthony (who gave sweets to the villagers on the route, as they don't have local shops), with Roi (lovely lad from Israel), an eccentric Canadian yogi who I forget the name of, and a very sweet older couple from Glasgow.

Here are some snaps.

Could be Scotland right?

Little villager lad brushing his teeth

Losing a staring competition with a Water Buffalo

Anthony leading us through tea plantations

So upon chatting to Roi, it became clear that we had made friends with the same Israeli lads in Hampi, at seperate times, and he was actually planning to meet them in Munnar, Kerala, after his time in Ooty! So my plan to go to Kochi was delayed, again.

Munnar, Kerala

The journey to Munnar was longer than we anticipated. It took two train rides (down through the mountains, one of which was a steam train and both were stunning), a bus to Coimbatore (where we had to stay a night, and is the worst place ever), before two more buses the following day.

The steam engine which took us down the mountain

Roi playing the guitar, and a fellow passenger flipping loving it

The view from our carriage

I gave Guy and Lee (Hampi pals) a surprise by turning up, and we discussed going on a three day trek to Vataganal - a mythical sounding place, led by Babu - a mystical sounding man. It looked like my plan to visit Kochi was going to have to take a backseat again!

Roi and I went on an amazing hike the following day, where my adventure gland told me to go up a mountain, even though there was no clear path. It was really hard work, and Roi was a good sport in putting up with my stubbornness to never take the easy path.

Munnar to Vataganal, Tamil Nadu

'An Englishman, a Scotsman, two Kiwis, two Ukranians and ten Israelis go up a mountain in India' sounds like the start of a long and convoluted joke (which I would probably tell), but it isn't, although it was a bloody good laugh. Everyone was great, and Babu was every bit as mystical as he sounds. He had a very deep voice, was as cool as a cucumber (he did the trek in his flip-flops), seemed to know everyone and could spot wildlife a mile off. We were thinking, maybe he can smell the animals? Or maybe he has supersensitive hearing? I guess we'll never know.

The first couple of days were leisurely strolls downhill, with the odd rickshaw and jeep ride to speed up the journey. We stayed in a charming 'guesthouse' in a tiny mountain village on the first night, where I chose to spend most of the night under the stars by the fire, before folding and moving to mattress when lying on concrete became unbearable. 

Part of the team on the trek

Dana, Daniel, Carmel, Guy and Roi waiting for lunch in a villagers front room

Amazing rays falling in front of a mountain

Dinner at the village guesthouse

The second night was in a grubby town which I forget the name of, where we tried and failed to watch a bollywood film (we were too late) and tried and failed to have a drink at a bar (it stank of piss and shit). Not too disheartened, we went back to the room to play cards and drink 'Frazer 13000' - a drink invented by Frazer, the Scotsman, combining '12000' (an awful, awful Indian beer) and Indian rum (put in to try and mask the flavour of the beer). Surprisingly, it was an improvement. That'll teach me to doubt a Scottish person when it comes to booze.

Handsome insect of some description

Frazer, David and Jamie rambling down a stream

Top view from a resting point

The third day was a gruelling 14km climb, starting at 5:30 AM. It was a lot of fun and a good challenge, and brightened by Matti (very much the joker of the pack), falling into a river not once, not twice, but three times. And the view at the top was astounding.

A goat that really does not give a shit

Jamie enjoying the view from the top

Frazer on the end of the 'Dolphins Nose'

 The done-thing in Vataganal is to get an apartment, rather than stay in a hotel or guesthouse, so I shacked up with Jamie, David (the kiwi lads, who are top notch) and Frazer (also top notch). We were next door to some British girls who Frazer had met previously, and they introduced us to Rex, who is an excellent dog, and became a vital part of our stay in 'Vata'.

Rex in all his glory

 Vataganal to Pollachi, Tamil Nadu


David and Jamie told us of a nature reserve to the north, which apparently had sloths, amongst other exciting wildlife. The premise of seeing sloths was too much of a draw for me to follow through with my plan to head to Kochi, so off we went. The four of us travelled to Pollachi, the city near the nature reserve (which rivals Coimbatore for the title of 'worst place ever'), where we met up with Katie and Julia, who I'd met in Vataganal. The day after, we got up mega early to head to the reserve.


We didn't see any sloths.


But, at least we saw lots of Nilgiri Langurs (black monkeys), which was pretty cool.

Again we paid quite a lot to be carted around in a bus which stopped whenever there was some wildlife. We all found this frustrating so decided to try and walk around the reserve, to see a bit more. Predictably, we got stopped and told we couldn't walk unaccompanied (without paying loads for a trek guide), so we asked to be dropped outside the reserve, which they agreed to. However, it transpired that they were just dropping us to another reserve, and when we tried to leave thet tooted their whistles at us and made us come back. We were trapped inside the bloody reserve, without being able to walk in any direction!

At least there was a nice sunset

So, after our Pollachi debacle, I decided to stride out on my own and finally make my way to Kochi, and here I am! I'm in Fort Kochi which is pleasant, quite westernised with nice old buildings, very touristy and there isn't too much to do. But it's good to make use of the facilities and also, to eat some good fish.

3 Things I Learnt From Mumbai

1) Us English use far too many words.

Watching the locals communicate made me realise how overly polite we are. A 'yes', 'no', 'please move over', or 'one of those please' can be conveyed with a simple nod, head wobble (which I bloody love) or gesture, without being considered rude. It must save so much faffing and energy.

 

This is Barampipi (spelling?), a charismatic stall owner who asked for a picture and spent about 30 seconds preparing his pose, which turned out pretty great.

2) Never jump sideways off a moving train

Whilst on the Churchgate line (apparently the busiest and also most deadly trainline in the world, with 4m passengers and 6000 deaths a year), the train got to the station we wanted to disembark at but slowed down rather than stopped. So me , Steven (an American sustainable agriculturalist) and Pedro (a Portuguese actor) were saying 'should we? Should we? We probably should!'. So Steven and I jumped in the direction the train was going, and had to run to slow ourselves down. Pedro on the other hand, had jumped directly facing the platform, so his feet were taken from under him and he fell flat on his arse.

Needless to say, a few locals were watching us, shaking their heads and most likely thinking 'bloody foreigners'.

These ladies waiting on the platform gives a bit of an indication as to how unbelievably busy the trains are. Also, the board looks like it says 'Boob'.

Not the best picture but shows the lack of personal space in the trains!

3) Slums - they ain't all that bad

My visit to the Dharavi slum was an eye-opener, but not in a negative way. I thought a guided tour round the biggest slum in Asia, with a population of around 1 million people in an area the size of 11 football pitches, would be a shocking experience, but it was actually quite inspiring.

It is in fact not technically a slum, because people have lived there for over 30 years, meaning the government must recognise it as a legal place to live and supply it with running water and electricity (though this is only the case for 82% of Mumbai's slums).

 

Dharavi is based on a strong community spirit, and it seemed like every family had it's own business. The districts segregate Hindu communities which speak different languages, with the Muslims in their own district. And although there is this segregation, they all do business together, which is regarded as much more important than allowing frictions to arise or bubble over. Our tour guide, Bala, was a lovely chap who grew up and still lives in Dharavi, and the tour company (Reality Tours, www.realitytoursandtravel.com) is a great charity which reinvests its profits into community centres in the slums, providing locals with education and recreation.

We weren't allowed to take pictures in Dharavi, to respect the privacy of its inhabitants, but this is a Mumbai slum I spotted from the train.

Here are some more pictures of Mumbai:

Some guys building a new advertisement hoarding maybe?

An English-style cricket pavillion

A Rhesus Macaque with big ol' nips

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ancient inscriptions at the Kanheri Caves

A baby getting into a taxi

Kanheri Caves

Thoughts from my journey

1) Milton Keynes is weird
2) My Grandad still cooks a mean fry-up
3) Aunty Angela should open up a bed & breakfast
4) Air India's aeroplane food is so much better than the stuff served up by British airlines
5) Mumbai airport is beautiful
6) Milton Keynes doesn't seem so weird anymore