tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19239302072093805722024-03-21T19:50:10.424-07:00Cricket and Currytwo thirty somethings discover the madness of India through cricket and currycricketandcurryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05832312552456850374noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923930207209380572.post-28350693081629399532009-01-12T06:02:00.000-08:002009-01-12T10:11:54.857-08:00Touts, tourists, temples and finally treatsIt is fair to say that from the various transport modes that we have used over the last 5 weeks , the train was certainly the preferred option. However , the trains from Goa to Hampi only ran during the day and we weren't prepared to spend 12 hours of a day wasted , so the only option was the overnight bus. With flashbacks of our double sleeper cabin (which involvled close quaters and perhaps a touch of spooning) , the two of us exhausted all our options and finally decided that we were going to bite the bullet and try it once more , in the hope that the overnight bus could redeem itself.<br /><br /><div><div> </div><div>We assembled around Chowdi - Canacona - waiting for the bus and the westerners were out in full force (this was a popular route). The bus arrived an hour and 10 mins late, but we were entertained by the locals , constantly asking if we'd prefer to hop on their motorbike to Hampi (8 hour overnight journey...thanks but no thanks). We hopped on to find that all was in order and after an initial worry that we had the double, we found our single sleepers and settled in. With stiff necks early morning, we arrived in Hampi to a lively bunch of touts ,springing up and down outside the still moving bus and guesthouse cards being lobbed into the bus, frantically trying to get our business. This is a fairly frightening experience , given that we'd just woken up and where not ready for it.</div><br /><div></div><div>The usual banter with the rickshaw drivers ensued and we finally made our way over to Hospet to our hotel (we decided on lux...air-con and swimming pool). The morning was spent popping into town and outlining the following 2 days. Hampi was to be a cultural outing with much of the Hindu temples scattered within a 10km radius. </div><br /><div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290411677292114274" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 240px; height: 320px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglrXurvRSG69lhdSbvO24CtjqlKYJeCL895rD5toakMnzHgIM1S51hTQ7b7QW6iPL7TyMAo6Y34YsEBsdmbvRsgNGZb1NuwPtV0sqh7yrZjQUil3YgWv0KA2MqXDgEqRHG-wT1y3EWyA/s320/Hampi+bazaar.jpg" border="0" /><strong> A view from Hampi bazaar</strong></div></div><br /><div><div>We opted for a scooter for the 2 days of adventure and exploring....as always the rental process was painful , but we managed to come to a compromise with Hugo being close to breakdown point with the lack of flexibility from the locals. With terms and condition negotiated , we finally headed off and had our freedom. We admired the rocky terrains, with the historic temples dotted in between under a sweltering heat. A few coconuts were purchased en route , washing was done and returned (although Hugo only realised later the following day that it was still wet), interesting car washing facilites were observed...a pool of water under a bridge was transformed into a carwash, deep tissue shoulder and back massages were had in a local's house and the pool facilites in the hotel were second to none.<br /><br /></div><div> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290412600735049618" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfL3B245-_Xn2kntBQunEG6e_QH5xuzjujVbmGEV-McEeLhf6h6qhh6VhrxHYYWx_udYcoiDTpEtJp2c0qu9a9j-lYDrEYlJo2uHUB4SV46-KJgDDqE1tzrnNQ943uUFXmtaYOYCNDNA/s320/The+carwash.jpg" border="0" /> <strong>The Hospet Carwash (all vehicles accepted)</strong><br /></div><br /><div>A brief stop in Hampi, but insightful nonetheless and full of fond memories again. Our final overnight train journey was ahead of us from Hospet to Bangalore. The light was deteriorating, but again we gathered the crowds around for a quick game of cricket.<br /><br /></div><div> </div><div>Banagalore was our Western treat....2 days of chilling, contemplating what we'd seen and done over the previous 5 weeks and enjoying the comforts of the shopping mall. A double header of <span style="font-style: italic;">Madagascar 2 </span>and<span style="font-style: italic;"> Australia</span> was had in the cinema. We induldged in fresh juices, ice-creams, shopping, great coffee, newspapers and more movies the following day....it was needed and our early flight to Delhi couldn't come any sooner. We were going back to where it had all begun on the 1st December 2008. The Viru was going home...</div></div>cricketandcurryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05832312552456850374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923930207209380572.post-85667344905676890672009-01-03T06:01:00.000-08:002009-01-10T20:20:57.651-08:00Dreaming of Goa....<div align="left">Time to relax and enjoy the famous Goan beaches.<br /><br />We were picked up by <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Geraud</span> at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Canacona</span> train station - confusingly called <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Chaudi</span> by the locals - and taken to his Om <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Sai</span> lodge. Hot showers in our deluxe, executive twin room awaited us but of course our 'twin' was a double. 'No problem sir, this bed big enough for two'. We were momentarily bemused why he was prepared to give us a room each but we soon understood the next day. His rates were about three times higher than comparable lodges! We moved hostel but this wasn't the last we were to see of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Geraud</span> in Goa.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Palolem</span> may once have been a peaceful, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">hippyish</span> fishing village but it's not now. It has a nice beach but is also full of English package tourists and Israelis who have just finished their National Service. Not two groups of people you necessarily want to spend Christmas and New Year with. So we hired scooters and decided to explore a bit and find somewhere else to stay. We visited Agonda and Va<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">rca</span> beaches, both beautiful and in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Varca's</span> case totally empty.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">We moved to Agonda, much more our scene. </span>Little did we know that Geraud from Om Sai in palolem owned the lodge next door to the beach huts we rented. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Not</span> only that but he took great pleasure in popping in every day <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">and telling</span> our new hosts - his best friends - how much he had charged us! Clown.<br /><br />Let me introduce our hosts: <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Nilesh</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Sameer</span>. </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289884586859330354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqJL2kq3y30Xld76mQGsw2qE1SDJFLqfcZVp2ezxV-RcTu-03UksQziwlLpGTu-l6R3QOozDQb5dqZKi-LRGLXt1dgLGIsPahQq9xUSbnZzVvCPmcWC0XtaSl4gBrKhHKE24H2dRDEsQ/s320/P1000630.JPG" border="0" /> <div align="center"><strong>With Nilesh</strong></div><p><br />Two very hospitable jokers. Believe it or not, Goa is very cold at night at this time of year and after our first night we asked for a blanket, to which <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Nilesh</span> responded 'How many nights staying', which was a thinly veiled attempt to work out if it was worth his while investing in blankets . When we told him we weren't sure how long we might stay, he told us 'blanket, maybe tomorrow. No problem'! Actually, that response was peddled out 6 days on the trot!<br /><br />He was very friendly <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">though</span> throughout our stay, he even stroked my stomach when I told him I was feeling a little unwell. Tha was probably a bit too friendly as his sexualtiy was definitely in question.<br /><br />Our huts were very rustic but perfect: light, fan, double bed, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">mozzie</span> net and three quid a night. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Taht said, they were </span>were next to a dumping ground which attracted every farmyard animal. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Waking</span> up to chickens, cows, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">dogs</span> and pigs eating scraps next to our huts was a daily experience!<br />Now we're both friendly guys and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">thought</span> we'd chat to the lonely looking Japanese girl over lunch on our second day. Well, she was sort of Japanese. Her parents were from <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Kyoto</span> but she was brought up in Canada and presently living in London. Interesting story and background. Dan, lucky man, got to hear this story twice but it's not quite what you're thinking.<br /><br />He woke up later that night to hear his <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">Israeli</span> neighbour playing serenading someone with his guitar. A bit annoyed about being woken, he was wondering when he could ask them to be quiet when he heard, ' I'm Canadian Japanese but living in London"...Sleeping now wasn't an option as there was ammunition to be collected. However, the Israeli's chat was poor and his kind offer of a bed for the night was refused!<br /><br />As you can imagine cricket dominated our stay in Goa. Our days usually started at Bobby's place - Ashanti - to watch the SA V Aus Test atch. His brilliant staff eventually realised that we were a bunch of jokers. . 'I'm understanding joking sir' was my favourite response!<br /><br />However, the real highlight was playing beach cricket with with Bhaji, Lucky (real name), Tom and a slection of his 6 brothers and the rest. This happened everyday from 4.30pm until sunset when the chilled Kingfisher beers would be rolled out by <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Nilesh</span>.<br /><br /></p><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289884596049195810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyK_Z_OAJzF2DiuzyUKJm1XVFeSY5dYCiLQfQP9hyphenhyphenH82xN8yDYv09ZE805TdO0gGYPa5qy785Njw37Xx8nCVkLEiIEguK6gui1QIZRCpWS8MN_-B1pa4aXh9_NsgfE_Nydk0MAEiokxQ/s320/P1000614.JPG" border="0" /><strong>Late afternoon cricket with the boys</strong> </p><p>Nobody likes to carry cash on the beach and Bobby, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">Nilesh</span> and the banana lady (Dan had to step in again to help me understand how much her bananas were!) were fine with us running tabs but when we realised we didn't have nearly enough money to settle our debts we headed to the bank in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">Chaudi</span>.<br /><br />We decided to use this trip as a chance to indulge in a bit of health tourism and visit the dentist. My teeth were fine apart from the ever expanding Chai stains but the lovely dentist - who subsequently let us use her clinic as a waiting room before our bus to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">Hampi</span> - informed Dan know that he needed a filling. Today wasn't really going very well for Dan who had earlier <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">visited </span>a seemingly blind barber for his second shave in India. The cavity filled, it was time for the bill - ten pounds for the check-up, white filling and clean and polish!<br /><br />One of the thing Goa is renowned for is beach parties and we were looking forward to dancing the night away on New year's Eve. We started the night drinking champagne and red bull chargers and went in search of the action. We jumped in to a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">rickshaw</span> and trawled the places we'd been told would be lively but it seemed the police had other ideas... A bit disappointing but still managed to enjoy the evening.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">Goan</span> food was delicious and as you'd imagine involded a lot of fresh seafood: squid, prawns, kingfish, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">barracuda</span>, coconut fish - what? really?- and tuna. Actually let's not discuss the tuna sandwich I ordered!<br /><br />Next stop: Hampi. </p>cricketandcurryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05832312552456850374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923930207209380572.post-64191505996777793422009-01-01T00:24:00.000-08:002009-01-10T20:18:53.514-08:00Kool Kerala<div align="left">Time to cruise the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Keralan</span></span> Backwaters in a '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">lux</span></span>' houseboat but before that we needed to sort our train tickets for that journey and to Goa for Christmas....Yes, more 'lining please' but I suppose if you've got to queue you may as well do it the Indian way which involves sitting in a long line of chairs and shifting along <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">everytime</span></span> the queue moves forward.....As always actually getting what we wanted wasn't possible. The train to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Kerala</span></span> was already on it's way and so we could reserve tickets for when it arrived at our station. Instead we had to buy an open ticket and hope we could find a seat... Well we had hope at least....false hope as it turned out but we were oblivious to that so we had dinner and watched more cricket highlights!</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">The train pulled in a couple of hours late but we'd happily passed the time chatting to '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Frenchie</span></span>' who we'd met in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Ooty</span></span>. We jumped on and started our quest for a seat, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">which</span> didn't looking promising if the first two carriages were anything to judge by. Our progress along the train was being hampered by grannies and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">chai</span></span> sellers pushing their way past us and more amusingly every other person stopping Dan to touch the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Viru</span></span> cricket bat. No jokes, they just wanted to stroke it! It was almost as though we were carrying the Holy Shroud of Turin, not a two quid bat from Delhi....</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">We were beginning to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">despair</span> after walking through nine or ten carriages when we hit <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">train's</span></span> kitchens and a nearly empty compartment. Too good to be true?? Of course it was....It was being used as a food storage area and despite our best efforts to talk the kitchen porters in to letting us stay we were booted in to a hot sweaty corridor. There was only one solution - to sit in the open doorway, Indian style... Who needs an air con seat anyway? </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">There were two memorable moments on that ride, both involving Hugo and a very fat pilgrim dressed in black who spoke no English.... After an hour in the doorway, he asked if he <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">could</span></span> stand in the doorway for 5 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">mins</span></span> to dry his soaking wet trousers. Seems he'd taken to opportunity to do his washing! About an hour later he returned and asked Hugo which was the next station. How the hell would he know? Does really look like a train spotter? But <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">telling</span> him I had no idea seemed to confuse the poor man further. </div><p align="left">The purpose of this leg of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">the trip</span> was to cruise the backwaters on one of the beautiful houseboats but as a boat for the two was beyond our means we were 'joining' with a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Saffa</span></span> family we'd met the day before ....It was a lovely boat and a very relaxing trip but not one of the 'ten things you must do before you die' as described by the book. </p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289880910726586610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEweKyNIT6nvK9zk0HgHUdqD9fBsaXkTk2M5DR9y-42p9s3dmI_CvH1ophyphenhyphenPfC0iINwu4Dkb0XmESTjoh57LyKTWwl4dxW8uWWvTyVlSBk0NjcEBbmklQgnVQ4d8WYGbqjwdBpAfFYFw/s320/P1000567.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><strong>The Keralan backwaters</strong><br /><br /></p><p align="left">The food however was probably the best we'd eaten in India; a range of delicious vegetable coconut curries and sauces eaten off a banana leaf with your fingers and washed down with a cold 'Super Premium' beer although it wasn't beer but more likely <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">home brew</span> gin.</p><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289880913881406914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgT6Axo58xRNGjd1Fo8CvesKRfui4DCoqoqGZKSCBnQrg6GEHCLN1PZTq0cJlMlN34XrpdcT7x1gcqajZlYDqF9ihKYq01QpLzBlgoZzFgACdrvQ6sk1xlYRjdYtXkeNTb8AsbtJZ-fQ/s320/P1000555.JPG" border="0" /><strong>The Keralan boat cuisine - tastier than it looks!</strong> </p><p>Refreshed and recharged it was time for the epic 24 hour journey to Goa but first dinner in Fort Cochin with the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Saffas</span></span>..<br /></p><p>We arrived at 6pm, having gone with the Super <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Xpress</span> bus from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Allepey</span> and a driver who didn't mess around. This time we sat up front and had a full view of what was approaching us. There was more than one <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">occasion</span> of hard braking and whiplash but we got there in the end. A quick ferry journey across the river and we were in Cochin and ready to spend a few relaxing hours checking out old cathedrals and churches - the Portuguese influence was certainly apparent and we walked past the church where <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Vasco</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">da</span> Gama was first buried. </p><p>We met the South African family near the Chinese fishing nets. These massive contraptions are manned by about 4 men and are a huge nets to scoop up fish. We strolled along and admired the various fish stalls...fresh fish, amazing tiger prawns, lobster, crab, red snapper, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">kingfish</span>, squid...you name it. The fishermen are all over you, offering deals for platters by the kg - a bit like Borough Market without the pretentiousness. You buy your fresh selection and someone takes you over to a nearby stall where they cook it for you....brilliant. We take king p<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">rawns</span> and squid, lightly dusted with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Masala</span> spice and some garlic and butter. </p><p>We pulled up some seats and waited in the queue for our seafood to be prepared. This was a popular joint and Dan suggested a couple of beers for the wait... A few minutes later Dan was back with a wrapped up parcel and some water...the Kingfisher waiting to be cracked open and escape the newspaper wrapping. It nearly ended in tears...the quest for the Kingfisher lager had us answering to the police. In Cochin you are not allowed to drink in public and the vendor <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">should've</span> told us. Hugo took a slug out of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">beer</span> just as a car approached, it was the police and in trying to be subtle by lowering the paper parcel, he only confirmed the driver's suspicions. They halted and quizzed him about it, whilst Dan was checking on the food. Another officer stood alongside side me cursing the vendor and soon afterwards a kid started cleaning as if he was closing up. Now, police or no police we had been waiting 40 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">mins</span> for our seafood and there was no way Dan was going to let them shut it down before our feast. After a few minutes of pleading and arguing our case I convinced him to keep it open so he could finish our food....it was a close call , we still finished the Kingfisher off and stumbled off to the train station for the double header...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Magalore</span> and then Goa....</p>cricketandcurryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05832312552456850374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923930207209380572.post-63495834852306468012008-12-31T02:38:00.000-08:002009-01-10T19:48:57.669-08:00Forgetable French Flair and Snooty OotyThe cricket was over and it was time to leave the big city for more relaxing pastures. So we headed to Pondicherry, a French seaside enclave three hours south of Madras and highly recommended by the Lonely Planet...The guide book oversold the town....The best thing about it was that we finally found our Chennai Super Kings cricket shirts and 0f course, cricket in the bus station! We decided to head to the mountains and be submerged in colonial splendour - as described by the book....<br /><br />Ooty is an old hill station and home to several beautiful tea plantations, but it was also to be one of the disappointments of the trip thus far. Perhaps there was too much expectation. The bus journey through the winding mountains was stunning, a tad hair-raising and bumpy but after 5 epic hours with no air con or adjustable seats we were ready to see what it had to offer.<br /><br />Our arrival at the bus station was yet another experience with the locals checking out the Viru...or maybe they were just staring at the two nutter travellers who had arrived in shorts, t-shirts and flip flops with the temperature settling in at a chilly 5 degrees... a bit of a school boy error and in hindsight perhaps we should of factor in the potential for wintery conditions at that altitude.<br /><br />We consulted the LP yet again for a cosy place to stay, the YWCA was the top pick and sounded appealing - two sopen fires and constant hot water. The staff were friendly enough and we opted for the premium cottage with a "working" shower . The twin bed request was brushed aside and they showed us the cottage with a double...no problem, they would split the beds and replace the double sheets with singles...later...later please!<br /><br />We unwound after the long journey by chatting to some other lodgers. French, German, English and South African travellers came together to share stories over dinner. The service was comical (think Fawlty Towers) - ask for an item and the answer was bound to be...not today sir ...2 banana lassis...no sir....no lassi.....only one banana. It was a good thing the compnay and conversation were good or it could've been painful.The eveing was to get better....<br /><p><br />With our appetite's satisfied and heavy eyes, we headed to our room to chill - no pun intended although how true it was to be - and plan the trip to the tea plantations but first a hot shower to warm up....... A long story short, ...the beds were still the same and we ended up running to another building in our towels to have a shower. Well it was a shower until the shower head fell off as Hugo showered and we were left with a hose. The manager was up in arms about it all and couldn't understanding why we were complaining.<br /><br />With the temperatures dropping and the room approaching freezing, we requested a 4th blanket each but despite having a stack of them the Manager was reluctant to give us another one. That was positvely Dan's worst evening on this trip, he was semi dilirious,sweat pouring off him and dreaming of Sachin Tendulkar and swords. Dan spent 45 minutes sitting in the ensuite shower room....elsewhere at 3am (more info than necessary I know, but I'm painting the picture)....not fun...why now when we were due some hiking and outdoor adventures?<br /><br />The following morning we called a guide and quickly realised that the price didn't include transportation - you get a local who walks around with you for 4 hours on the main road and charges 10 quid each. We looked at each other, decided we could probably manage that by ourselves and jumped on the bus up to Conoor.<br /><br />The tea plantation itself was brilliant. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmLs-RC8NwBZREitjAfLcnNFsBKz2t-SpPvVsGI0sVCbnjY8p0y1ZnjUYFW36ddBCd4vKv2VOzUgVyCLUoCI0GNkGaJs_fYZ_CEJngEkbI2Yp474E54aGsyJF9hmg5AYYRvUwmZum62A/s1600-h/P1000523.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289877472758757218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmLs-RC8NwBZREitjAfLcnNFsBKz2t-SpPvVsGI0sVCbnjY8p0y1ZnjUYFW36ddBCd4vKv2VOzUgVyCLUoCI0GNkGaJs_fYZ_CEJngEkbI2Yp474E54aGsyJF9hmg5AYYRvUwmZum62A/s320/P1000523.JPG" border="0" /></a>We had a tour of the tea processing factory and wandering around the plantation before finishing with a few with a few cups of tea. </p><p>A snap decision was made to head back to Coimbuture junction for a good night's rest and then an early train to Kerala. Farewell Tamil Nadu!</p><br /><p></p>cricketandcurryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05832312552456850374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923930207209380572.post-25280623058398979992008-12-17T23:01:00.001-08:002008-12-17T23:26:22.948-08:00Muggy in MadrasWe arrived in Madras / Chennai after a monster journey from Udaipur. With a full day's cricket watching to be had the following day, we chose the optimistically named 'sleeper' bus from Udaipur to Ahmedabad. Now I'll try my best to describe this expereince but I fear you won't really see the complete picture.<br /><div><div> </div><div>The sleeper cabins were a solid structures suspended above the 'regular' seats. Our twin cabin was the last one at the back on the bus. We climbed in to discover that for two normal sized people to fit in the cabin we almost had to spoon each other!! No issue we thought, we've had to share a double bed in most of the hotels as it seems India doesn't really do twin rooms and well be asleep for most of the 4.5 hours we've got on the bus.<br /></div><div>The three lane highway we'd been promised wa exactly that, a three lane highway. What it wasn't was a smooth road! No sleep was had on that leg on the journey as we were thrown 30 cms in to the air every 5 mins.. We were dumped on the side on the road in Ahmedabad at 2.45am with three and a bit hours before our flight but with only one rickshaw available to take us there. The driver recognised our precarious situation and started the negotiations at an outrageous price. We negotiated him done to a semi respectable level of being ripped off and climbed in to the rickshaw for the freezing 20 mins ride. </div><br /><div>We arrived in Madras at 8.30 but still hoped to make the start of play an hour later. We gently encouraged our cabbie, who didn't speak a word of English, to put his foot down. The alarm bells started ringing when he hadn't heard of our hotel despite us opting for a semi expensive mid range option. Indian cabbies / rickshaw drivers seem to know every hotel from the most expensive to the worst but ours didn't know the one we'd chosen. By the time we found it the match had long since started and we realised why he didn't know it, it looked like nobody had stayed there since 1947. It was a dump and an expensive one at that. We quickly rang another hotel and booked their 35 quid 'super delux executive room', which was no better. We reached the third hotel and took whatever they had but vowed to stay for one night only! The Imperial was anything but imperial and a succession of people wanted to enter our room, 'cleaning please', 'laundry please', 'remote please'.......</div><br /><div>We bought our 3 quid ticket and entered the stadium, which disappointingly about a tenth full. No worries, we were soon in deep conversation with some locals and enjoying the cricket with England in control. Litres of sweet, ginger chai were consumed together with a multitude of masala flavoured snacks. Our contented thoughts were that the arduous journey had been well worth the effort.<br /></div><div> </div><div>All we had to do now was find a semi-decent place to stay. We had a beer with some of the barmy Army and wandered around the local hotels. It wasn't long before we found the Royal City Mansions which looked welcoming and the two guys at reception wobbled their heads in an endearing way but so much that I feared they might injure themselves!! It was so clean on the way to look at the room that I could barely contain my excitement that we'd found a hotel that was cheap and clean. Dan reminded me not to judge just yet.... but gratefully he was wrong and the room was lush. We had four good nights there and no little head wobbbling. Our repeated jokes about discounts paid off when he paid up and the chief receptionist forgot the agreed rate and charged us the local tariff! </div><br /><div>You might think I'm not writing much about the cricket and that's not because I'm disappointed by the result - which I am - but because the cricket really was secondary compared to our experiences with the locals... Madras is a muggy, ugly and polluted city but despite that we had a brilliant time.<br /></div><div> </div><div>Here is a brief overview of the highlights:</div><br /><div><strong>Helping Anthony our rickshaw driver get free entry to 3 days of the Test</strong> by going to tourist shops with him. While we had dinner after the third shop, he managed to get completely p1ssed and tried to claim sobriety!! Randomly we bumped in to him three days later outside a shopping centre on the other side of town and offering to organise 'illicit women' for us. The offer was politely declined..</div><br /><div><strong>The man in the pink suit</strong> - pictured - who we saw on every day of the test and who wore something equally garish on each of the 5 days. Apparently he always dresses like a film star!<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281026671939612930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzLo8fVXQOo8lI6m0ETjsqOAN89ReJXZuRQNVkR_C-ZRm2rdn9RpanxsLtCaRTm9c_O8FcQbUh2NEe7M-C01pj-vv7wbTc31xZj46hd7f1FKw7Pm1Vlnmx4gA1PW2sBLdV9xWNzeRPPA/s320/P1000434.JPG" border="0" /></div><div></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>The cricket.</strong> The Chepauk stadium filling up as Shewag hammered England to all parts and the noise when Sachin completed an historic Indian win. The Indian supporters must be the most generous in the world; the genuinely seemed happy when an Englishman performed well. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281026665213081906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6za_hX7aMW5NnrB4AaqB-rWtglVEsT4NBloKydgWpwvHafNbKxTbpTEl15jZQ_sOOqdYt7OgEouuAdCC8TWlodOh_06afL_M55yU6yHvGcul61ss4rO1KWS4IZcsatWiC_s4C4ebIrg/s320/P1000489.JPG" border="0" /></div><div align="center"><strong>Danny with Shewag's loudest fan!</strong> </div><div>Oh yes and I managed to get my ugly mug in the Deccan Chronicle with a group of local fans!<br /></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>Local cuisine</strong>. Although we'd eaten dosa in Rajastan we had to try it where it was from: Tamil Nadu. The pink suited man recommended Sarauana Bhavana, Chennai's most famous veg restaurant. We asked for a table for two and were prompty seated opposite three middle aged men in what can only be described as an interview style set-up. We sat eye balling each other after our initial forays in to conversation were cut short. They did however recommended what they were eating: Idly - a curry with maize balls - and doas - a huge Indian pancake. Both dishes were absolutely delicious but maybe not the best choice when your stomach is gurgling....</div><br /><div><strong>Delhi belly and the desire for some western food</strong>. So our stomachs were showing the first signs of unease and we thought we'd have some western grub while we bought our Chennai Super Kings cricket shirts. We went to the City Centre shopping mall for what turned out to be a verage average dinner. The bright lights of the cinema were calling us and how could anyone resist 'The day the earth stood still' with Keanu Reeves? Although it should have gone straight to DVD, the film provided many laughs, particularly the ice cream break after 45 mins and me legging it out of the cinema after 30 mins as I realised I'd left some train tickets at the box office! </div></div>cricketandcurryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05832312552456850374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923930207209380572.post-73782786852586445202008-12-17T00:44:00.000-08:002008-12-17T23:01:00.092-08:00Bond, James Bond...and a close shave in UdaipurWe've been chalking up various destinations and routes to work out the most efficient use of our time whilst not missing out on any of the recommended sites, and now find ourselves on a bus (5 hours) down to Udaipur. Still excited about our cooking experience and a 20 min session of cricket in front of the bus stand we settle in and get smiles from fellow locals...who have been told that WE are the Cricketers...ahh...yes please...thanking you......<br /><br />For those of you that are not familiar with Udaipur, it is steeped in history, but also known because of its romantic lakes , rooftop restaurants and rolling hills ...that and the fact that Octopussy was filmed here a long time ago, and still central to the tourism of Udaipur.(see <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Octopussy#Filming">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Octopussy#Filming</a>)<br /><br /><br /><p align="left">Hugo reminds me of George's email and recommendation of the Mahendra Prakash. I'm on the phone in a flash trying to book a twin room. As always, after a bit of broken dialogue, we work out that there is a room and that we can get an auto from the bus station for about 20P....what no complimentary pick-up??...not a good start...<br /><br />Upon arrival, we are greeted by the general (old boy in a uniform...security) and escorted to reception, with about 3 guys around us clambering at our backpacks when we have already carried them through to the foyer...a little late boys.<br /><br />We get a quick tour and take in the plush surroundings. This is by far the most picturesque hotel we have stayed in, with a lush swimming pool and great lawn area. It's a pity that we only have one night here, but at least that will be spent in comfort and the luxury of a little Star cricket, once again.</p>The following morning we finalise our journey to Ahmedebad , where we are to connect for a flight to Chennai for the 1st Test match between England and India. This is going to be tiring...the bus leaves that evening at 10pm (we've booked our first sleeper seat), then a flight at 6am and straight to Chennai (more about that later).<br />We enjoy breakfast in the garden and grab a quick dip...the sun is warm at 9am , but it hasn't warmed the water yet, so it's a fresh dip....fresh....!!! We venture up along the road, first cut left, second cut right are the directions to get to the City Palace given by reception, no problems. Udaipur is pleasantly quiter than the other cities and we feel heaps more relaxed and start considering our itinerary for the day...Palace , Lake Palce , Boat trip (potentially??) , Monsoon Palace for sunset....ahh, let's see what happens....oh what about a shave.<br />Having walked around the Palace grounds and admiring it's grandeur, we get the necessary tourist pics and decide to call it a day on the culture front. All the palaces and forts are now morphing into one...we need to appreciate these.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281018473013647330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEherGes9XcqrEKhcYyqKH1NOOlxzaAb3DYvInjDxxr4GlMNuO9OZcU45pAucJp2vTyWOgEgK_KSoO6TUs8mRE1ZDKUrXp0tgWPbmykjSCI9mTuHugX1UxKiTMrHmKiTSTDQxFisjmk7Kw/s320/P1000343.JPG" border="0" /><br /><p align="center"><strong>The Monsoon Palace taken from the City Palace</strong><br /><br /></p><div align="left">Okay, we find a rickshaw driver and negotiate a price for a tour of the city finishing at Monsoon Palace - 20 mins outside the city - at sunset.....no problem...how much....15 mins later and we've agreed a price and we're off to the barber.</div><br /><div align="left">There are some strange looks from the locals as we take our seats ...this is going to be interesting, no English and trying to explain that we want to keep the burns...we'll see what happens. ..It all goes off smoothly - no pun intended - we get a shave , face and head massage for a whopping 50p...brilliant.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281018485625779506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiMcnWWtEFGUlGaQHZmgRIhuBf1rxrcQvy1VVcWb4GJ_89qPlIiiaUFJbByClw0d1dJqsMqQ5g5VOZqF8r9q9xOP6LeoBmBvshO5p_oBtIU5ONbpq9Fg2a26S49_V296i-TpSGlGWEag/s320/P1000354.JPG" border="0" /><strong>Check the burners....</strong></div><br />Time to move on, take our pics and thank the guys...next stop the spice and veg markets.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281020787220254418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcWlV2Jw2_KDqev-mWkcuLJIfQONFu1ITdSgH8kO0UK_e1KGr-rNoL-K363gyxpQCV5fTNQhimWaTHLpAj1pqn9OqmaSXIcdvVjqe9qWbzGavUUnMemxdZ8ehSgUgGgXiYGhIVIVEZ9g/s320/P1000364.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"><strong>The spices - can you identify them?</strong> </div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="left">This bustling area has it all. You name and you can find it: sacks of rice, beans, lentils and spices....we pop over to a few and ask questions and finally walk away from a stall with some Kashmiri saffron, all the while getting hurried along by our rickshaw driver because we might miss sunset...calma...calma...fica gelo.... (calm..calm...be chilled...in our Brazilian Portuguese). The vendor is still trying to flog us some Darjeeling and Assam tea, we politely thank him and move on. The fruit and veg markets are colourful and bustling with people - there are loads of strange looking vegetables and between the two of us we struggle to decide what they are...root vegetables of some sort is what we settle on. </div><div align="left"> </div>The ride up the Monsoon palace is a hairy one, winding road to the top with a lot of horning involved at the turns, but it's worth the wait and the trip as the views are breathtaking. With the sun setting fast, some joker asks us where we are from and when I say SA , he mouths off some word in Xhosa...I am impressed and sucked into a guided tour...for 40p....it's 10 mins and he rushes us along to the best spots with about 3 bits of info about the Palace itself , the Maharaja's shower room, the room where the poker scence in Octopussy is filmed and something about the views....bore off.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281018470815005154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQQVS87kVMHOlYGdTDeujQcN4iLbywDAyyyoI2zC3J34WnhTAOaZq7lwpCL7VLD0FQY8Gys892AxVjBAIkruy5EMyTc5EAHL7Pe2m5JnQ2XRCh73o69ywEKQ-ef4et64VNCbW7ZnQIJg/s320/P1000376.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><p align="center"><strong>Sunset at the Monsoon Palace...how romantic....<br /></strong><br /></p><div align="left">The owner of the Mahendra Prakash is there when we come to collect our goods and he talks us through some of his cricketing tales...the photos on his walls with Sachin and Azharuddin in his team, touring English sides and he tells us he played for the 1sts down in Kent for a few years. Hugo asks him if he remembers a George who played for his team about 5 years ago, and this has the man roaring with laughter...he sure does and is soon commenting on George's contribution to the team - 5 years on and impression has been left..good work George.</div><br />With the day drawing to a close , it's time to bid Udaipur and Rajasthan farewell. It's been an epic journey and a great introduction to the Indian culture. Rajasthan has not disappointed and is in the memory banks. Next we head into Tamil Nadu........cricketandcurryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05832312552456850374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923930207209380572.post-57113935710475428902008-12-17T00:18:00.000-08:002008-12-17T22:35:23.566-08:00Riding high in JodphurAh, Jodhpur not the Pink city or the Golden City , but the Blue City....so named because in the searing heats of Rajasthan , the colour provides a coolness to the houses and a repellent to insects...apparently.<br /><div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281010997850543970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLPZIqP-A0UzXK0pC4qCPTHkGCW36tcoKuUMckWz7lEVRau9cavGTekpEu-DzE43g_Y07-dCtMCJmQf5gglGfYmVy5Za6bQ06MMvtNLLD9eaubprpFSU5aJYSj07-8zBlei7pZLOvLiA/s320/P1000257.JPG" border="0" /><strong>The Blue City taken from the Mehrangarh Fort (home of the Maharajas of Jodphur)</strong> </div><div><br />We get hustled off the train again , ready to meet up with Lokesh (the son who runs our guesthouse). We've decided to use the Lonely Planet as a guide and provide us with some useful mid-range accommodation and from the description it looks like we'll be getting some luxury, coupled with value....we are yet to see the place though.<br /><br />As is the case now , nearly a week into the journey , the Viru is getting us noticed and we've barely hit the rickshaw stand, when we're surrounded by about 10 drivers offering us a lift. Then they notice the Viru....within the space of 2 minutes we have a 10 strong game happening. So what if we're tired from the journey, they're not interested. Who cares if there's barely any light at 10pm , they can come steaming in...numerous bouncers are pelted in and the ball is flying off in all directions...the Jodhpur lot seem to be watching too much T20 cricket , the rule book is out the window and defensive shots are non-existent. Lokesh finally comes over and asks if we are the guys he is due to collect, having stood there watching for 10 mins, and we're bidding out farewells to the boys and off for a night's rest. </div><div><br />Now, we're not the fussy travellers and both of us have stayed in some dives on our travels but this place was a huge disappointment and made us realise that the Lonely Planet perhaps isn't doing it's job correctly and reviewing these houses correctly....Mid range, gets you a hard double, no air-con, non-flushing toilet, but some beautiful murals painted on the walls...what are they talking about...rant over, the place was disappointing, but it was for one night only, so we check in and ask about where we can grab a quick "chat"...bite to eat.<br /><br />We cruise the road down to Nirvana, which is the recommendation, although the guesthouse owner , doesn't seem to know much about it and pop in...they are just in the process of closing, when the foreigners pull in...reluctant to show any disappointment, the calls are "welcome..welcoming..." and we're taking to a splendid rooftop terrace with spectacular views of the fort. The food is delicious and we explain to the waiter that we'd love to understand more about the local cuisine, no problem, you can come and cook tomorrow....brilliant...what a result, we're going to have our first experience in an Indian kitchen....one problem though...time....we have an afternoon bus to Udaipur and can't miss it...we have a gap from 11.30-1pm...we'll squeeze it in.<br /><br />The following morning is an early start for a cultural experience up to the wonderful Mehrangarh Fort....we spent a few hours with our audio tour and take it all in admiring the splendid views , and whilst it's all breathtaking , we're both keen just to wrap it up and get to Nirvana to ensure that we can cook. So , we're off.....<br /><br />Our rickshaw driver is still waiting for us outside , having threatened that if we didn't agree the right price that we'd be left alone and would have to pay more to get taxi's down....what a joker, we've been here for a while now and are getting use to their stunts...when in doubt , look to half what they quote is our philosophy, with some banter along the way.<br /><br />We pop down to the Clock Tower for a quick Chai and a photograph of the Chai Man...a big Indian bloke who resembles a friendly giant, he has a warm smile and keeps wobbling his head , with chirps of photo...photo...he seems to want the photo instantly and doesn't understand that we'd need to download the pic to print it....tomorrow, we politely offer him...."no problem!!"<br /><br />Nirvana man welcomes us, and assures us the kitchen is waiting , we just need to decide on our food. We go with Hyderabadi biryani and a pakoda....brilliant. As we're about to head off the owner pops over for chat. He spent 15 years in the UK and played club cricket in Durham before deciding to return home and open this restaurant. We have a bit of cricket banter and he is on his way but not before we assure him that his restaurant should be in the Lonely Planet and that we'll recommend them.<br /><br />To our surprise, the kitchen is in a good state...no rodents running around, they are using chopping boards and prepping for the day. </div><div> </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281012689793008386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgizjeQDkgbxH8GqM2chInXzXp2dVEfKu8joKfJTHZixMYaLkZ6oe3-yuf2FwGo5zfCjmnOW3rsPKjYY5NCkAgrkg_mwun9eOphp_XaEfwPhmY_f85s2N78HMQwkJEIEKrXsb7PXAraag/s320/P1000308.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><strong>The action shot....</strong></p><div align="left">Our chef is not Indian, but Tibetan. We get started by asking loads of questions about the various spices...turmeric, garam masala, chili powders , coriander etc...we are proper tourists getting in the snaps...popping the pakora balls into the frier, pulling the nan out of the tandoori and the finale, the food shots and photo with our team...</div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281012694878238402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhiLgK0Fb26rzdIftiKgGOv5y021Vo5TZiuLIpXkYLNMl37bg_4LKFforBpozNWb8heoF2aA3eV4Tog7Qwy-gBIrXqCKBxVZhhDYnujntaz4yKc0jQGx_u8tq7cvF-njTHvB3Me0F_ww/s320/P1000321.JPG" border="0" /><strong>The trainee chefs with their teachers</strong></div><div> </div><div>It's been a great experience and we've walked away knowing more about the delights that we've been eating, next stop Udaipur.</div></div>cricketandcurryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05832312552456850374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923930207209380572.post-73616765106978942642008-12-12T08:32:00.000-08:002008-12-13T05:49:29.220-08:00Jaisalmier, touted as the Golden City but this has nothiong to do with gold. It actually involves sand and lots of it.<br /><br />The next leg of the journey was out further west and towards the reaches of the Thar desert , where were committed to finding a flat surface in the desert and taking the Viru out for another cricket adventure.<br /><br />We use the Lonely Planet for a little accommodation guidance , with a view that the top pick is likely to be somewhere clean, tidy and affordable , as was suggested in the review. Little did we know that since publishing the Desert Moon had decided on some "home improvements" and upon arrival there was water leaking from upstairs..."don't worry sir...just water please....fix now please...fix now welcoming", was the reassuring remark that the owner, Jenatir gave us.<br /><br />We quickly settle in and start considering what the following day and a half holds. At this stage there is no room for error with our itinerary, as we are awaiting the final decision on the cricket venues and we need to get booking and fast. Rajastan will be a whistle stop tour, if we're to make it to Chennai for the first Test.Karim (the over-friendly hostel employee who tried to kiss Dan on leaving) , comes along with the sales pitch of a lifetime , a real exclusive tour of the golden sands and a camel ride , with "lux" (this means deluxe accommodation) and jeeps as transfer for a whopping 20 quid. Hold on ...hold on....talks us through the offering , don't try and pull the wool over our eyes and let's hear what's really on offer......negotiations are held and we are at logger heads over the equivalent of 50p. Now we know we should probably back down and get on with it , but we decided to think about it (something that the Indians do NOT enjoy....waiting to close a deal). "We have your number my friend , and we'll call you when we're ready after lunch!!"<br /><br />We head off for a wonder with a view to taking in the Old City , but are very quickly distracted by the Shanti Sports signage en route. We pop in for a chat with Asif , test out a few of the Kashmir Willows bats in store (Reebok, BAS, SS), which we are told retails at Rs 850 (11 quid) and after 30 mins walk out with two balls....one of them is of the heavy red tennis ball type and the other, a little softer and a more detailed seam impression is know as the Spinner. (One more British pound wisely spent). Asif tells us where we are likely to find some people playing cricket , so we head off in search of our next track.<br /><br />The "park" is a dirt track , but what were we expecting lush green surfaces with pristine mowed lawns?...no chance. We wander up to a group hanging around and start chatting, with cricket being the topic of conversation. Jatinder (our new friend) pipes up that he has a bat at home and perhaps we should get a game going on , but the only problem is that it's a distance to his an there's a cost involved (quelle surprise)...not to worry we tell him, our guest house is just around the corner and we have the Viru.<br /><br />The match gets underway , with two teams of 5 on a basketball court , it's a T10 game and light is fading....fast There are some unorthodox bowling / chucking styles going on , big heaves across the line but smiles all round.The light meter comes out but the locals are still steaming in, however we finally decide to call it a day. We have made more friends that want us to meet up first thing in the morning for a rematch!<br /><br />The following morning and we're up catching a dose of our new favourite channel on TV , Star Cricket. It's the Ashes 97 and and we're looking at a fresh-faced Tubby Taylor and Mark Waugh fronting up to Chris Lewis (before he was arrested for alledged drug running...um...). This is brilliant stuff but we need to get the travel arrangements resolved.<br /><br />That afternoon we're whisked away by our "Jeep"....oh no , it's not , our driver is Karim and there's a problem with the jeep so he'll take us in the owner's car (first promise broken). We enjoy an hour long Camel ride through some heavy shrubs until we finally come out at a stretch of about 2 km's of clear sand and dunes. The Don (another of our tour guides) , comes cruising up one of the dunes with the VIRU and a tennis ball in hand and we're off to find a flat surface in the sand dunes!<br /><br />Within 5 mins we have assembled an audience and about 8 people are involved with adults , children and camels as spectators. Nine year old Abbay's mother pops over and politely asks if we don't mind looking after him for the next 20 mins as she's going for a walk...no problem. The crowds are swelling and the desert folk are staring, but they love it and another hour is killed on the dunes , with the sun setting in the background.<br /><br />We return to the camp as the only tourists , for a night of local entertainment and cuisine (we get our first taste of the desert bean). The tent is "lux" with it's own bathroom attached.<br /><br />The Safari over, we got back in our 'jeep' (old banger with an oil leak) and headed for the train station. As we were on a tight schedule, we'd bought the tickets the day before and been told to 'shut up' by some German for chatting idly while we 'lined please'; clearly a man who doesn't appreciate the significance of England returning to india for the Tests. There time for a bit of cricket at the train station before we board the Delhi Express, which we do with 15 mins to spare. All the while a street vendor is insistent he can fix some minor damage to our rucksacks for 'very good price, no probelm kindly sir'.. Neatly settled in our seat and bargaining with the vendor, an Indian family suggested we were sitting in their seats. We politely told them they must be mistaken and showed them our tickets. Yes we were wrong, our train departed almost 24 hours previously. We pegged it off the train - the street vendor in tow - with no idea what to do when we bumped in to nine year old Abbay and his mother, who told us Abbay had been missing us. The was about 8 minutes of confusion with Abbay's mother, the TC (everyone knows the TC - most important man at the railway station!) and about 10 other locals... Our booking form was produced and yes we'd written the wrong date. That wasn't really the issue, we just needed to get on that train. Two more tickets were bought and we were on the train to Jodphur with 1 min to spare....cricketandcurryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05832312552456850374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923930207209380572.post-69511613821749055922008-12-06T05:48:00.000-08:002008-12-08T00:59:10.984-08:00The Jaipur Express - our first true experience of cricket and curryNow you all know that India is a chaotic country but you probably think that buying train tickets would be a straight forward process. Wrong. It couldn't be more complicated or confusing. First you need to get a form, fill it in and go to the reservation window. Finding the right window is a challenge in itself with about 15 different counters each one resembling a bookie's stall at the horses just before the off with everyone trying to place a last minute bet. Once you've confirmed your reservation, you pay at a different counter. When we found our counter after 20 minutes the man kindly informed us that 1) our train was sold out and 2) we would in future be better off going to the tourist booking centre on the second floor.<br /><br />We made our way to the second floor but of course you need your passport to buy tickets, which clearly we didn't have. Why would we have our passport? We were only hoping to travel to Rajastan, not Afganistan!<br /><br />Anyway, we got to Jaipur with our shiny new <span style="font-style: italic;">''SS Viru Shewag 309'' </span>cricket bat (2 quid - tourist prices), which was attracting some glances and the odd shout of "cricket player?" but no offers to mark some stumps and actually play. Did we look that good?<br /><br />We toured Jaipur - the pink city- with our rickshaw drivers, Super Salim and Ali and really enjoyed the city and what it had to offer. However, the real fun started late on the second day. We stopped for a chai and some roadside bites- samosa and kachori (lentil based dumpling) - and were recommended the Four Seasons restaurant.<br /><br />That's where we headed. The contrast with the rickety shack where we had the snacks and chai and the Four Seasons couldn't have been more pronounced but both places were delicious. We opted for a dosa to start and followed by two thalis. The dosa was the tastiest thing eaten yet, by some distance. It is a savory Indian pancake served with a spicy soup and an unbelievably delicious coconut sauce. The thalis - pictured - comprise several different, bite-sized dishes, all of which were devoured and enjoyed. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz9vy3Mf6le75loTlndSbUcSvxR4Ex5ZzjKLheJoGRJtQ4IZSR1IxYrivYjKySkvZzJJHpZl7nuaqfIsUyE5lkd1GpH39j1lzwfswfQdA8HD16MqHrWEO1NdvR6CT6H0CEPOuruXWVyA/s1600-h/P1000171.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz9vy3Mf6le75loTlndSbUcSvxR4Ex5ZzjKLheJoGRJtQ4IZSR1IxYrivYjKySkvZzJJHpZl7nuaqfIsUyE5lkd1GpH39j1lzwfswfQdA8HD16MqHrWEO1NdvR6CT6H0CEPOuruXWVyA/s320/P1000171.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277339688827483122" border="0" /></a>Including the salad, despite many warnings to the contrary. It didn't really matter if we got a case of Bombay bum, we only had 13 hours of the train to get through!<br /><br />How to spend the remaining two hours before our train to Jaisalmer? Playing cricket at the train station of course!<br /><br />At first, people seemed reluctant to approach the two weird foreigners playing cricket at the front of the station but after one brave soul took up our invitation to play we soon had a complete team, of very varying standards it must be said but a team - including a member of the Indian army! - nonetheless. The floodlights were on and play was intermittently broken by a stream of locals taking a leak on the boundary edges.......!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDHH4aoU-KZUDh03AGEKN7Dg6sXVzvMde7zOHEYaDOW9jWj35L8n1jpxVzl61J9ErAoNweaAxWNtHbUh9wzq1zmaS4bBnG0GwpTdW3jJSyKfL-FqIgRl7ofbmdgik7NJfmcXRakv2R4A/s1600-h/P1000188.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDHH4aoU-KZUDh03AGEKN7Dg6sXVzvMde7zOHEYaDOW9jWj35L8n1jpxVzl61J9ErAoNweaAxWNtHbUh9wzq1zmaS4bBnG0GwpTdW3jJSyKfL-FqIgRl7ofbmdgik7NJfmcXRakv2R4A/s320/P1000188.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277340697038454338" border="0" /></a>(The army officer doing his best to bat like his hero MS Dhoni at Jaipur Railway station at 11pm)<br /><br />There were a few incidences at the crease that caused a lot of excitement - read screaming, shouting and general hysteria- and would under normal circumstances have been referred to the third umpire but train stations in India and impartial decisions weren't ever going to happen, the foreigners were out and on their way to Jaisalmer.cricketandcurryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05832312552456850374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923930207209380572.post-67234796811708215742008-12-01T20:51:00.000-08:002008-12-01T21:58:03.974-08:00Delhicious<div>Nothing really can prepare you for the friendly chaos that meets you at the airport. The first comical event was the lights going out in the immigration. Nobody made much of a fuss; was this normal?<br /><br />We went to our host's house, had a quick shower but heading to the madness of the Old Delhi. We order an old ambassador car to take us there and it's fair to say that any self respecting Italian would be proud of much the locals use their horn.<br /><br /><strong>Old Delhi</strong><br />This is where the true mayhem ensued. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275067561373823778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZGk75zPVBp2sLK0hyZ_Kz_QdZDe7TWOaTjerBxBGNWYl8x-slNhrTqK7c7ibhu50BLmFSKPky0cQhY3NuXW4TtADezGMzMB8EjjEYmPzElt0NEz9onX7Y9mOeT7CCG71j8WlVGjYURQ/s320/P1000087.JPG" border="0" />I needed a haircut and what better way than to start off with a local trim. The 'stylist' seemed affronted when I asked him to shave my head. No, that simply wouldn't do. He thought a nice side parting - seems to be the haircut of choice here - would suit me well. In the end I had about 6 haircuts as after each trim I asked him to go shorter.<br /><br />Face massage. Has anyone ever met a hairdresser who doubles as a masseur? No, well come to India - they all do. Having refused the head and face massage about 10 times, he went ahead anyway and in the main it was very enjoyable although at one point another hairdresser told him to be a bit gentler.<br /><br /><strong>Lunch</strong><br />Street food - very tastey although everyone had been telling me how different Indian food would be in India compared to what we get back home. Well, it tasted pretty similar to me and it's had the same morning after effect too!<br /><br />Well we tried a bit of the street food and opted for an aloo - potato - dish with spicy sauce. Absolutely delicious. After a failed attempt to go to the Mosque we had lunch in the renowned Karim's restaurant. Three different types of kebab, chicken korahi, rice, nan and sag aloo; all for the princely sum of 500 rupees (6 quid).<br /><br />We didn't see much street cricket but rest assured that's the plan for today. The thought of being humiliated at cricket by a 5 year old hasn't put me off yet.<br /><br />To round off an already strange day, we went to a welcome home party in the evening. I've no doubt that Sanjit was glad to have 3 total strangers from abroad welcoming him back to India!</div>cricketandcurryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05832312552456850374noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923930207209380572.post-35911898186448685732008-11-29T19:35:00.000-08:002008-11-29T20:02:57.526-08:00Off to the airport in a sombre mood....I'm catching a few quiet moments at home before heading to the airport. We're clearly still going but our initial sense of excitement has been dulled by the events in Mumbai.<div><br /></div><div>It feels slightly reckless - and a bit sad - to be heading to a country that has just been the victim of a horrendous terrorist attack. However I think the danger to independent travellers is minimal and in a funny and small way we can show some support for India by going through with our trip. </div><div><br /></div><div>Let's hope the England cricket team feels the same way. If they do call of the rest of the trip, I hope they're honest enough to say that security wasn't the major reason for doing so. They'll be in a different part of the country and security will be so tight that I really can't see them being in danger. I understand if they want to stay at home with their families for emotional reasons but let's be honest about that and not hide behind security.</div><div><br /></div><div>What are the implications of the tour being called off?</div><div><br /></div><div>While this is all speculation at this stage, the implications of the tour being 'postponed' would be huge and not just in the short time. India has emerged as the powerhouse of world cricket and if a major cricket team refused to tour because of security concerns, India will suffer both financially and reputationally. Could India end up in a similar situation to Pakistan with few teams being prepared to play there. What effect will this all have on the IPL? </div><div><br /></div><div>And what of the implications for the England players. If they cite security as a reason for not returning, how will they be able to take up lucrative IPL contracts in due course? </div><div><br /></div><div>The pressure being applied on the players will be immense but I suspect that they won't go or if they do it will be a severely weakened team, devaluing international cricket. </div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, it seems a bit distasteful to be talking about cricket; my thoughts are with the families and friends of those killed in Mumbai. Such a waste of life.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>cricketandcurryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05832312552456850374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923930207209380572.post-81969602343385393022008-11-09T07:56:00.000-08:002008-11-10T05:50:26.881-08:00Visa collection time<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD7qA1JCMnZkNliawS0yUqIQYwM4PF0lYobZETo-dNwa5ySlru7qPir1-iXOUVF81nYTvVwKyliBB_y0G51r_JdNunMgmoO37ShHo7Z_rdh-KYnoxkot-_WB2lqB-H0XqS3w5hPLzK5Q/s1600-h/2471200191_03489952fd.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267025737241241890" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 238px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD7qA1JCMnZkNliawS0yUqIQYwM4PF0lYobZETo-dNwa5ySlru7qPir1-iXOUVF81nYTvVwKyliBB_y0G51r_JdNunMgmoO37ShHo7Z_rdh-KYnoxkot-_WB2lqB-H0XqS3w5hPLzK5Q/s320/2471200191_03489952fd.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>It was collection time for the passports on Friday and the reality that we're off to India in less than a month final kicks in. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>This time around there were no funny incidents like the random sitting behind us explaining what an official bank statement looks like, and freely showing Hugo and me his bank balance....why?...it was a healthy 9 grand if you want to know. </div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div>The route is planned and we're having a look into accommodation for Goa over the Christmas period as I nurse a hangover on Sunday afternoon. We've spoken to a number of people about the best spot and it seems that most people favour the south of Goa around the Palolem beach area (please do feel free to send more info through or top tips to help). </div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div>Apparently there is a bar called Fernandes or Fernandos , which rounds up the locals and tourists for a spot of cricket on the beach when the tide is out. No doubt we'll be able to show off our cricketing skills in the sunshine. Let's see if the Hugster can actually get bat onto ball!</div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div>The Lonely planet and rough guides are getting a good workout and am absorbing as much info as possible. Here's to the start of a new week and the continuing countdown.........</div>cricketandcurryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05832312552456850374noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923930207209380572.post-61257165563689767892008-10-21T13:06:00.000-07:002008-11-10T05:43:37.943-08:00Tickets booked....can you help?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaj4E2L7KHT4S_9gkmBRCmidjqZeiASSAglttlqmHqJk6LYeSV7rLJwmD4v30DGGeI96HNXwTOLxhfRxBhUYxREKpqkvmIZjorLaoUiN5jlajfZGmmaW-B9lNEH4qivH9Sba5eqdxcDA/s1600-h/cricket.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263613714312586146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 226px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaj4E2L7KHT4S_9gkmBRCmidjqZeiASSAglttlqmHqJk6LYeSV7rLJwmD4v30DGGeI96HNXwTOLxhfRxBhUYxREKpqkvmIZjorLaoUiN5jlajfZGmmaW-B9lNEH4qivH9Sba5eqdxcDA/s320/cricket.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Dan de Jesus and I head off to India for six weeks - 30 November - 11 January - to sample the delights of India; curry, cricket, temples and not forgetting the beach! We're starting the trip with a bang; the day after landing in Delhi we're heading to Frozeshah Kotla Stadium to watch what will hopefully be the deciding one day international between England and India. I can't wait to be in the stadium with 40,000 histerical Indians as their hero, Sachin Tendulkar, comes out to bat... <div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>We're both extremely excited although not sure what to expect. If the visa application centre is anything to go by it will be friendly chaos!</div><div><br /></div><div>Here's where we'd like your input. Do any of you have any recommendations or tips? What foods we should eat, any unusual sites we must go to, any local contcts you can share. </div><div><br /></div><div>For example, I hear from a surveyor friend in Clapham that there's a tailor in Mumbai who makes amazing clothes... although he seems to cut them for the wrong body shape..</div><div><br /></div><div>Our provisional itinerary is Delhi, Jaipur, Udaipur, Ahmedabad, Mumbai, Goa (Christmas and New Year), Kerala, Bangalore.</div><div><br /></div><div>Log on for updates and photos.....</div><div></div>cricketandcurryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05832312552456850374noreply@blogger.com1