Indian Safari: Athripally

Posted on 17 January 2008 by k
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As, is generally the case, guidebooks tell you what others like to see. But, if you’re looking to see things slightly off the beaten path, you need enough time to explore, or a contact on the ground to make recommendations and to help prioritize possible activities.For our travels about Kerala, Jenny provided that on-the ground, local perspective. And without her help, Athripally would never have made our list. Not listed in either of our guidebooks or online, Athripally forms the gateway to a popular Keralan national park where elephants and tribal people roam free. Our favorite resort of the trip, Rainforest, sits nestled amongst the trees overlooking a nearby waterfall just inside the park’s entrance .

Upon arrival, the staff greet you with fresh coconut juice and allow you to venture onto the grassy overlook with waterfall views in the distance. With check-in details settled, you then file to your well-designed room where all needs are tastefully met without being overdone.

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With a couple hours to spare, we made our way to the infinity pool, overlooking the falls. We read our books poolside as we passed the time until our evening nature safari. Since the area is barely developed, there were plenty of birds chirping in the trees and a nice breeze whispering amongst the leaves. Welcome to Athripally–our most relaxing stop in Kerala.

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After a couple hours of reading and relaxing by the pool, we were met by our afternoon safari guide. We (he, G & I) piled into the front seat of his jeep and were off. First, we made a rather strange stop at his family’s roadside convenience shop to say hello to his family. His dad graciously offered a popular fried snack and a cup of tea as his young bride made her way to extend her greetings. We’re still a bit baffled by that experience as it’s not an advertised activity on the safari, but after the tour we chalked it up to the proud novice guide wanting to offer an encounter with the locals. It was appreciated, nonetheless. And next, we ventured to see nearby cashew plantations, to touch “touch me nots”–timid plants that wilt immediately when touched only to spring back to life a moment later. And to see the area’s numerous falls up close. While the falls were calm during our visit, the fall monsoon swells the pace to near Niagara scale. As we romped about the rocks near the falls making our way ever closer for that perfect photo opportunity, we were thankful to be visiting during the safe, dry season 🙂

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The guide stopped along the way to point out vegetation (the spices and such we’ve introduced in previous posts) and native wildlife. Amongst them, a black squirrel, samba deer, civit cat and an owl. Around dusk, we took the 4WD jeep to visit a local tribe. But, while these folks are advertised as “tribal”, we were surprised to see that they were western clothes, buy rice and other supplies in town, tool around the man-made lake in PVC and metal boats and attend school with the local townspeople. The only thing that makes them different, in our eyes, is their choice to live without electricity and running water. But, this doesn’t seem to impressive as many folks in Mumbai seem to be living the same way by necessity without being designated “tribal”.

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Regardless, as we visited the tribe a elephant’s nearby trumpet sent us on a boat ride around the like with our guide and the young tribesmen. Our nervous guide kept a lookout for elephant trunks signaling an elephant in the water below. But, to no avail. Though, we did see Samba deer and Bison in the distance. Apparently, the young tribesmen that paddled us about will be matched up to females from one of the other 17 Keralan tribes at age 18. Their brides will be chosen largely due to their age and gene pool at age 15. The match is made remotely without their meeting. The bride and groom meet each other for the first time on their wedding day when a ritual is performed and the bride leaves her family to join her husband’s tribe.

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After interacting with the tribespeople, we were back on the hunt for elephants and another passing jeep put us hot on their trail. A family of 10 elephants with 2 babies was 10 minutes’ drive ahead. But, unfortunately, dusk was upon us. By the time we made it to the elephants, the sun had receded and we could merely see the reflection of their single eye with our spot light(you can’t see more than one eye at once), torn bamboo and other vegetation giving signaling their recent ravaging, and hear their nearby tromping and chomping as they ate their weight in bamboo. So close!

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Our disappointed guide was reluctant to give up on the hunt. Insisting that we continue. Only after multiple requests from G&I that we begin to make our way back in the pitch black night. We finally arrived at the resort 1.5 hours after the intended return time. Afraid we had missed the gourmet dinner included in our stay, we were relieved to find that they had waited for us. With only 9 rooms on the premises, one missing safari-goer makes a bit difference. So, we had an incredible meal (one of the best on our trip) with the sounds of wildlife in the distance.We had an interesting conversation with one of the members of staff. Apparently, he’s about 22 and is in negotiations with the father of a potential bride. This gentleman was very refined, handsome, speaks perfect English and is quite sharp. We were surprised to hear that he was having some difficulty in negotiations because he works for a private company rather than the government. Through him, we learned that Indians see government jobs as the most lucrative and secure. Very telling for their culture, I think.

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Regardless, we were then off for our slumber. The next morning, we woke early in order to fit in another AMAZING meal at the resort before heading off on a hike to the waterfall below. Along the way, I broke my favorite travel sandals (bringing us to a total of 3 clothing casualties for the trip), but a short 15 minute hike brought us to the falls. I abandoned by broken shoes on the bank before we hopped about on the large stones to make our way to the perfect photo opp (despite my lack of make-up). After a few moments, a large group of Indian men with a single little girl in tow made their way to the falls and decided they wanted to be in the photo, as well.After our hike to the falls, we were on our way back to Cochin where we would catch our flight back to London.

Click here to see additional photos from Athripally.

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Alleppey – Venice of the East

Posted on 16 January 2008 by k
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Just about every place we’ve been recently tries to liken a small part of their city or town to Venice. And having been to Venice ourselves, we understand why. It’s dreamy and romantic. But, understandably, having been to many of the places that liken themselves to Venice in the guidebooks or on blogs, we’re always quite skeptical.

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Alleppey, from our experience, is the only one that comes close. Truly a waterworld, the houseboats take you along canals and lakes lined by mangroves where life goes on despite the lack of land for habitation. Families bathe, mothers do laundry, children wash the dinner dishes — all on the banks of the area’s many canals. And, like in Venice, there are water taxis (boat buses) to take folks where they need to go. And if you’re canoeing and need a lift, you just latch your vessel onto one of the many house or public boats and are on your way.

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For us, the moment we stepped onto the houseboat was a bit surreal. The boat has a wooden hull — custom crafted locally by skilled artisans and a bamboo/wicker woven top. Complete with bedroom(s), bathroom (with shower and working toilet), family room, dining area and kitchen, the boat is easy to call home. We chartered a small houseboat, but even it came with a 3-person crew: a cook, a captain and a first mate.

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As we left the shore with mosquito spray and sunscreen liberally applied, we snapped photos constantly. First, we stopped by a maiden’s house to drop off the earlier night’s bed and other linens for washing. Two men sat nearby playing cards on their bank stones while a goat anxiously stomped about the shore and a child played in the water. This would be a common scene as we made our way about during the day to come.

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As we left the docking area, we were joined by dozens of other houseboats who had come to pick up their guests. We took in the views of life along the banks as we made our way to a placid holding spot for lunch. Waterlilies with purple blossoms and visiting birds were commonplace. As were happy scenes of domesticity along the canals. Most locals fish for a living and, hence, living so near to the water is a nicety. And while the scenes of locals doing laundry on the shore are shocking, this option is much better than the alternate that most endure across the rest of the country — having to go many kilometers to a riverbank in order to do the same. Locals seem to have the process down to science. First, they dunk the garment. Then, they soap it. And next they beat the clothing against the bank rocks before rinsing and placing on the bank to dry.

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Our cook was talented and we were impressed by the dishes and variety he offered despite his small kitchen’s size and amenities. A local fisherman dropped by to offer fresh caught tiger prawns. Young children and their parents waved from the banks near their homes. School children waved and screamed “one pen” from the banks as they walked home from the waterbus stop. Good thing we didn’t bring a box of Bics as it was money they were after :-). We passed by as chickens, cows and goats sunned on the shore.

At dusk, we docked in the crew’s home village. We had a watched the sun go down over the water, read our God of Small Things books (based on life in Kerala) and had an incredible dinner. As bed time approached, the crew switched on the ac for our sleeping compartment and we comfortably slept through the night.

In the morning, we woke early to the sound of the waterbus leaving the nearby dock to take locals into town. We lounged in the seating area reading our books and watched as the locals and our crew went about their canalside chores. Finally, we were on our way and quickly joined the other houseboats moving toward the docking area to change-out their guests.

And we were on our way to Athripally — our final stop before flying out of Cochin. Check back tomorrow for more on our next destination.

Or check out additional photos from Alleppey.

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Which famous American actor did we see?

Posted on 15 January 2008 by k

Apologies for the late update, but I hesitated to interrupt the India logs…

Guess who we saw last week? TOM HANKS! At the London premiere for his movie “Charlie Wilson’s War”. We were probably no more than 10-15 feet from him, but G had to lift me on his shoulders to peer over the crowd. Unfortunately, my camera phone doesn’t have image stabilization…I have only Bigfoot photos from the event…

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Periyar – Spicy…

Posted on 15 January 2008 by k
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After a lengthy drive, we arrived in Periyar just after noon. We dropped our bags in the hotel room (they upgraded us to a room larger than our London flat), we picked up some snacks on the way and arrived at the dock just in time to enjoy the 2PM cruise. Luckily for us, Jenny and Sulfri had arranged for a local gentleman to stand in line early in the day to secure our tickets. This saved us hours.

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We hopped on the boat and cruised about the perimeter of Periyar Lake for a couple hours in search of local wildlife. The ever-elusive elephants refrained from joining the lakeside scene, but we did see scores of Samba deer, bison and a few brightly colored kingfishers (birds) along the way. And our driver pointed out wild boar and black and grey masque monkeys during our way into and out of the park. In fact, a few of the masque monkeys frequented the dock and waiting areas for the lake cruise — a bit of entertainment for the wait, I suppose. The monkey’s crazy antics kept everyone entertained. Watching them, even we were surprised when a ladies’ pink shoe seemingly fell from the sky. Suddenly, we were very aware of why monkeys earned their wacky reputation. During our drives around the area, Sulfi often stopped to point out the rich selection of local vegetation that make India so popular for trade. There were bananas, pineapples, tapioca, vanilla, tamarind, passion fruit, mango, pepper, cashews, betel nuts, etc. So we were well prepared for our afternoon tour of a spice plantation. Our somewhat novice spice guide (he was fresh out of training) often walked up to a plant, would pick off a piece of bark, etc and would ask us to guess what it was. Those who know me well also know that I love plants and easily retain much info about them. So, Sulfi’s coaching stuck and much to the dismay of our novice guide, I often knew the answer. In addition to the plants noted above, there were a few newcomers: gooseberry, cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice and tumeric.

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Suffering only a few mosquito bites during the shady dusk tour, the highlight for me was an elephant ride. While wild elephants were hard to find, trained working elephants are more abundant. A large, healthy bull elephant pulled up to the platform and we climbed aboard. He took us about the perimeter of the spice plantation and gave us a high view from above. In the end, we treated him to a basket of fruit (he ate a whole pumpkin in 1 bite!) and were on our way.

After a short stop at the spice shop to pick up some fresh vanilla beans and peppercorns, we were back to our hotel. Living in such a small London flat (less than a third of the size of the house in Cary) , we’re not used to being in large spaces anymore. While the room in Periyar at The Wild Corridor had an amazing balcony overlooking the pool and other resort amenities, it was difficult for us to adjust to being in such a large space again. We found ourselves yelling to one another from across the flat. Too, the resort was large and somewhat impersonal (as compared to Blackberry Hills and our other accommodations thus far in the trip).

The resort hosted a pool-side New Year’s Eve party and we enjoyed sampling more of the regional cuisine and a taste of dance and music troop entertainment on the stage. Unfortunately, the clientele at this resort was more aloof and demanding than at the other resorts and accommodations along the way. We found ourselves embarrassed and appalled by the way which other European guests treated the resort staff and others.

Regardless of how the class system works in India, in our view we’re all people and deserve the same level of respect. We were thrilled that Wild Corridor was the only large, western style, high-end resort on our itinerary as these types of places seem to attract intolerant tour groups looking to be pampered. The rest of our accommodations were suitably moderate and small.

View additional photos from our Periyar album.

And stay tuned for a recap of our Alleppey Houseboat adventure tomorrow.

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Munnar – Land of Rolling Green Hills

Posted on 14 January 2008 by k
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Sometimes in a children’s fairytale, the illustrator will depict pristine, well manicured, low-growing hills of green. Once upon a time, G and I felt we had found the source of their inspiration. Surely, they were depicting the Italian and French hillside vineyards. But, alas, we were mistaken. We now believe the inspiration came from the hills of low-growing tea plants in Munnar.

We were immediately struck by the area’s natural and imposed beauty. Home to the country’s largest tea plantation, owned by Tata, the plants are manually trimmed every 15 days. This keeps the plants at a uniform height and green color and gives the world the caffeine boost they need to get going.

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Fortunately, we were staying at a small resort that sat atop a lofty hillside overlooking the Tata tea plantation. With panoramic views of the hillsides below, our balcony was the perfect vantage point to see both the area’s immense beauty and the workers’ pain.

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Thanks to Sulfr’s quick reflexes and driving skill, we arrived in Munnar after a 4.5 hour car ride (about 75 miles) from Cochin. Upon arrival, we first helped ourselves to tasty and complimentary snacks: a tomato-like fruit we still don’t recognize, another strange fruit, a local banana, a local orange and banana and tapioca chips. Then, with a bit more energy, we hiked down the treacherous trail amongst glowing purple morning glories and wild lantana to join the paved plantation trail. We were greeted by gorgeous hillside views around every bend.

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Marketing materials boast trekking within the tea plantations as one of reasons to choose to stay in Munnar — and specifically our resort. The plantation workers had returned home for the day so we chose the small, distant tea-town as our destination and hiked along our way. A man on a motorcycle met us early along our journey as we stood atop a paved street taking a photo of the beautiful hills. Appearing to be a plantation manager, he adamantly warned us not to take photos and said that we were not free to roam about the fields. We could stay on the paved path to “see the waterfall” (which we never found), but we should not loiter as this was private property. Upon reaching our destination, we realized that all which appears ideal from above is not so. Tea workers’ families appeared to be living amongst cows and livestock within dilapidated workers’ quarters. Rumor has it that employees are paid extremely low wages for their grueling work only to then spend their funds in the company-owned stores in the town. Perhaps this is the reason for the manager’s adamant request that we do not take photos? While our encounter with the town was brief, the work-camp scene repeated itself many times as we traveled about the area by car. During our travels, we couldn’t help but wonder how Tata’s owners could live in their opulent palaces whilst their workers lived in such dire accommodations. Suddenly, the view from our hillside hideaway didn’t seem so sweet.

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Back at the Blackberry Hills resort, we learned the general manager there is an advocate of the arts. And as support and interest in the region’s Kathakali and other arts wanes in favor of more western entertainment (like discos and clubs), he’s taken it upon himself to provide renewed support in any way he can. Hence, the resort commissioned a popular Cochin muralist to create artwork for the rooms. And he sponsored a Kathakali group from the arts school in Cochin to entertain his guests during the week between Christmas and New Year’s.

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After cleaning up from our hike, we headed back up to the restaurant for a buffet dinner and Kathakali performance under the stars — an open air performance. We dined on heavenly curries and sampled a bit of all the local cuisine as the theatre troupe entertained with Kathakali shadow puppets, Rajasthani marionettes and Kathakali hand puppets. It was so enjoyable, we did it again the next night :-).

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By day, we headed up to Eravikulam National Park to see their semi-tame goats. The park is huge and home to lots of typical Indian wildlife (tigers, monkeys, wild dogs, and elephants), but this small portion of the park is easily accessible and meant for viewing the mountain goats (Nilgiri Tahr). Our driver knew the ropes and immediately positioned us into the foreigner line where you must pay up to 10x what locals do, but are allowed to short-cut all the lines. Still our ticket price equated to around £2.50. The next bus to the summit pulled up, our driver ensured we were safely aboard (before the 100+ locals in line) and off we went. We exited the bus and walked a kilometer or more to view the mountain goats and as we did, India travelers approached us. Every few steps, friendly Indians (mostly from Kerala and Calcutta) came up to try their English, shake our hands, ask us to be in their photo, or to simply say hello and welcome. All were really interested to hear our impressions of their homeland. In fact, these types of encounters were commonplace in India and helped to paint our pleasant view of the region.

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The mountain goats were once nearly killed off when Europeans visited the area to set up tea plantations. Hunting was popular amongst the Europeans and these goats were certainly easy game as their reflexes seem stalled by fear and panic. But, these days, the goats have good reason for being tame. Unlike the tame deer in Nara, Japan, you’re not allowed to feed the goats, but we did enjoy getting up close.

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The area’s tea culture fueled the development of a tea museum. It was here that we saw the tea making process first-hand and learned that the various types of tea (green, masala, black, white, etc.) all originate from the same plant. It’s simply the way in which the leaves are processed or the leaf-stage that’s used that makes the difference. For instance, some leaves are crushed and then dried. Others are dried, then crushed. And the tender green tips of the tea plants are hand plucked and kept separate during processing to make the very expensive, but tasty white tea.

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In the afternoon, our driver escorted us to Mattupetty Lake where tea plantations meet the shores of one of the area’s first hydroelectric plants. We rode a motor boat about the lake. And I, perhaps naively, kept my eyes peeled for wild elephants.

As G mentioned in his Goa post, it was strange but refreshing to experience such wonderful weather during the holidays. And every once in a while, we saw a throwback to typical American holiday cheer. In Munnar, wild poinsettia’s were abundant and put us in a festive mood.

We finished our second day in Munnar watching sunset from a panoramic point with masala tea in hand. A typical Indian ending to an amazing day.

View additional photos from our Munnar, Kerala album.

And check back tomorrow for New Year’s in Periyar.

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Cochin – Entering God’s Own Country

Posted on 13 January 2008 by k
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Cochin was our gateway into the state of Kerala, self-proclaimed God’s Own Country. Until this point, we had made our own travel arrangements. But as we reviewed the guide books in advance of our trip, we were overwhelmed by the details and sought help.

Enter Jenny — a resident of Cochin who has a spare home that she’s opened up to travelers in search of an authentic home-stay experience. She’s a college professor by day and a mother of 4 and travel advisor by night. With the help of her husband, Jose, and a staff, she provides travel advice, arranges drivers and accommodations and plans itineraries. She put together the plans for the rest or our trip. We could just enjoy the ride.

As we exited Ernakulam Junction station from our overnight train, we were greeted by Sulfi who would be our driver for the next week. Dressed in clean white shirt and pants that stood out among the crowd, he was quiet, but we’d soon learn very conscientious. He pulled around in a 4WD Toyota Qualis (6 seater SUV suitable for off-road), happily handled our bags and we were on our way.

Arriving at Jenny’s house — Le Royale — it seemed like a small scale palace more than a house. Sulfi honked signaling the gatekeeper to open the intricate wrought-iron gate. Inside, the floors were covered in granite and marble, intricate woodwork and stained glass adorned the walls, and of course included all the modern conveniences. The staff whisked our bags away to our room as we enjoyed chilled, fresh coconut water straight from the shell and discussed our travel plans with Jenny and Jose.

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While some people dream of expensive sports cars when they are rich, we often joke that we’d want a driver. And, of course, as you go about your daily chores, it’s easy to think that having a maid and chef would be dreamy. But, in practice I found it quite difficult. While most other mid- and upper-class tourists and locals happily commanded their servants, I asked how they were, complimented their thoughtfulness, insisted that they do not get up to make us tea, quickly opened my car door before they could and asked if they needed help with dinner. Growing up in an American working-class family, I just couldn’t get used to having so much help. Surely, I was the focus of many strange looks and a few jokes during our stay due to my reluctance to accept help!

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The downtown area, called Fort Cochin, includes a number of interesting sites such as St. Francis Church where Vasco de Gama was first laid to rest in 1524. It appears quite typical from the outside, but once inside you realize the niceties that make it livable for India’s extremely warm weather. Rope operated ceiling fans, thick stucco walls and stone floors help to keep the interior cool.

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A highlight is the local fish market where large, manually operated Chinese fishing nets are lowered into the bay and raised by rope to retrieve the fish and other sealife captured within. I don’t think you can get fresher seafood anywhere. Here, it’s taken straight from the net or boat and auctioned on the edge of the shore to the merchants which turn around and sell it in their stalls just meters away.

A group of happy fisherman welcomed us over to their net to give it a try. Most notably, we caught tiger prawns, a puffer fish and what looked like blue crabs. Looking at the stalls, it’s amazing what’s brought up and brought in from so near shore. I even had a photo with a baby shark…

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We also paid a visit to the Jewish synagogue. Unfortunately, photos weren’t allowed (this photo courtesy of Jenny’s site). Upon entry, you’re struck by the floors lined with delph blue tiles and the haphazard mix of beautiful European light fixtures. It appeared as if the designer installed a few chandeliers upon construction and that the locals decided more light was necessary — installing another 20 odd light fixtures of all colors and styles to augment. But the combination was striking.

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Many of India’s buildings seem a bit plain from the outside, but once you’re inside it all changes. This was the case with Mattancherry Palace (aka The Dutch Palace). Originally built by the Portuguese and later expanded by the Dutch, it boasts walls adorned with striking murals depicting popular scenes from local folk stories — stories that form the basis of the region’s Kathakali theater. We loved this local artistic style so impressive that we decided to buy a couple smaller, but similarly styled works as our souvenir from the trip.

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Kathakali theater is to Kerala what Kabuki theater is to Japan. Or, perhaps what Disney stories are to the Western world. The stories are fairytales deep rooted into local culture. During our stay in Cochin, we had a short taste of this treat. Traditional Kathakali performances start at around 10pm and last until sunrise. They’re often hosted by local temples and the actors often go off to theater school in childhood to prepare for their roles and to develop their talent. Folks take this art form very seriously.

The performers don’t speak, but convey their feelings and emotions through elaborate facial expressions and hand gestures — perfected with many years’ practice. We were only able to see a short 30-minute tourist rendition, but we’ve vowed to see a real performance during our next visit to the area.

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Then, an ayurvedic massage. We like to do what the locals do. And apparently, upper-class Southern Indian folks get these massages regularly to “clear their bodies of toxins”. I can’t say if they work, but I will attempt to paint a picture of the experience. From the exterior, the massage parlor looks like a hospital. And this feeling of sterility follows you into the entrance. Unlike typical US or UK spas where cushy chairs, water music, low light and candles greet day-spa clients, shelves and shelves of large brown bottles of medicinal massage oils adorned the front hall. This hospital-like ambience is likely due to the way that the locals perceive the treatments.

We were taken back, individually, to treatment rooms which included metal embalming tables (don’t panic), a bathroom with shower and a changing area. After taking off everything, you’re asked to lay face-down on the table and 2 people pour the ayurvedic oil on you, massaging it in with great effort and rapid repetitive motions. You rotate on the table from time to time. First to one side, then the other and finally face up. As you lay on the table, you can’t help but let your mind wander to the smell of the oil. At the end of the process you’re are completely (head to toe–including your hair) covered in oil that makes you smell of a grilled cheese sandwich. The team then leaves you to shower and remove the oil before you leave the premises.

[An aside: I’m growing to find the ways in which massage is practiced fascinating. In Jamaica, we nearly fell asleep during our relaxing treatment atop padded tables with holes for head comfort. In Poland, I was pounded much like a flank steak atop a padded table, left with heavy bruises that lasted for up to a month afterward. And, India? Laid upon an embalming table and marinated in oil. I’m hesitant to try again, clearly we’re trending down :)]

We were clean, rested and fully marinated for our next destination, Munnar — home to Tata Tea Plantation. Look back tomorrow (or the next day) for our next installment. This is the fourth post in our series on India that started with Mumbai and Goa.

View additional photos from our travels in Cochin.

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Indian Railways – Oh, you aren’t…

Posted on 12 January 2008 by g

A common response to our India travel plans was “Oh, you aren’t riding the train are you?”. But, of course we were. Our aim is to experience the culture and way of life as the locals do rather than observe from the isolated safety of an air-conditioned window. With India, however, it was difficult in our planning to know where to draw the line with some of our own standards in health and comfort. As friends urged us to refrain from the train, we just couldn’t believe it would be that bad. We wanted an authentic experience…

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Our Indian rail adventure started with booking tickets when they are first available exactly 60 days before. The trains fill up quickly — especially for peak season in December and January. So from our hotel room in Louisville, Kentucky (for my sister’s wedding), we scrambled to find seats on our train of choice from Mumbai to Goa. The night train had sold-out, so we settled on taking a day train, we snapped up AC third class seats and felt fortunate since so few seats were still available.

We wondered what fate awaited us as we made our way along the carriages on track 16 in Mumbai’s Victoria Terminus. The crowded and uncomfortable people packed in the unreserved cars peered out through the open-air barred windows. This, combined with the sight of local travelers hanging on for dear life on the exterior of a full car as the commuter trains entered station foreshadowed an unpleasant journey to come. We wondered with anxiety what third class would be like. Maybe the neigh-sayers were right? Maybe take the train was a mistake?

Filled with anxiety as we reached our tinted-window, air-conditioned carriage we climbed aboard and searched for seats 37 and 38. The interior was clean but basic. Similar to European trains, the compartments had two bench style seats facing each other, only without closing doors and a less stylish vinyl-like blue upholstery. Having stowed our luggage in the tiny space under our seat, K needed a minute to adjust as we awaited our compartment companions. Who would we be spending the next 10 hours with?

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They soon arrived — a middle-aged Indian couple and a family of three with a teenage boy. The couple wore jeans. The men of the family wore western style clothing while the mother wore a brightly colored sari. The teenage son carried a textbook while father read the financial section of the newspaper. They seemed normal. And our anxiety began to melt away. There was plenty of space and we wouldn’t be trapped with a cabin full of  pestering beggars from Mumbai.

The rest of our anxiety disappeared upon realizing that we wouldn’t starve on the 10 hour journey. We had stocked up on chips and bottled water in preparation, but despite the lack of dedicated dining and snack carriages, there was no shortage of food. A steady stream of attendants paced the aisles offering a selection of chai (tea), coffee, mango lassies, bottled water, and various fried snacks like samosas.

We also discovered that they have a meal service. Carefully observing our travel companions placing their orders, we recognized the student’s response which sounded like “cheese sandwich”. K and I looked at each other thinking, “That sounds safe”. Responding in kind on our turn — “cheese sandwich” — we placed our order. About a half hour later, he reappeared delivering boxes filled with cheese sandwiches and other goodies. We repeated the routine again around noon. Though lunch was a bit more difficult due to the lack of a table, and unfortunately, K’s skirt fell victim to a bright orange Tikka Masala sauce from an overflowing tray. Darn Tumeric!

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Following the pleasant third class experience, expectations were raised for our second class night train from Goa to Cochin. Joining day two mid-route from Delhi, we found our compartment had previously been occupied by an inconsiderate family with small children that had done their worst. Scattered rice and assorted meal remnants decorated the seats and bunks, while crumpled newspapers and food wrappers littered the floor. Half empty cups of chai hid behind a partially completed coloring book page stuck to the small fold out table. The lone Indian lady that remained, also a victim of the storm, sat in the corner holding her knees in her arms and conveyed without doubt that her journey had been hell for the last two days.

Expectations shattered — this time it was me that needed a minute to adjust. Mess aside, the interior was a bit older and more worn, though much the same as the third class carriage. It became clear, the second and third weren’t so much a reference to quality, but rather capacity. Three bunks per wall in the AC3 compartment provided space for six people in the compartment. In AC2, the two bunks per wall allowed for four people.

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Consistently in our travels, we have observed fewer safeguards abroad than in the litigious United States. Hiking along the sea-side cliffs in Italy or Mallorca, no warning was necessary — if you fall, you’ll die. The trains in India were much the same. No one stopped you from opening the door and hanging out as the train sped along. In fact it was a popular activity as every doorway had a least a couple people vying for the prime position.

I took a turn and tried to snap a few photos. Carefully braced to secure my position on board the train — and to make sure that is where I stayed — I peered out the threshold cautious of any possible upcoming obstacles. With a bit of time and summoned courage, I got some great views of the train and the country side. While difficult to capture from a high speed speed train, I did manage a few worth sharing.

This is the third installment in our series on our India trip. You can also read about Mumbai and Goa. And check back tomorrow as we arrive in Cochin, Kerala.

Posted in Adventure Travel, Asia, India | Tagged , , , | 3 Comments