February 9, 2010
Well, the Indian leg of my journey ended a few days ago and I am in Sri Lanka now up in the cooler hills in the city of Kandy (pop 100k at 2200 ft). I've been trying to resolve a problem that has surfaced regarding my re-entry into India from Sr Lanka in late Feb. to catch my return flight home from Delhi. The Indian government implemented a new policy requiring visitors to India on a tourist visa, and who then who leave India, to remain out of the country for a minimum of 2 months before re-entering India My prepaid flight home leaves Feb 24. Apparently the policy was in place when they sold me my multiple re-entry visa in Dec. and it was only by chance that I learned of the policy in Goa. After questioning some officials there and getting more info on the web I decided to risk it, the advice being that if I could make a case to the Indian embassy here in Sri Lanka, they could let me back in. After 5 hours in the visa line up yesterday, and the elbowing and pushing fight to the officials wicket when my number came up, and a one minute conversation advising me to come back tomorrow for an interview, I am now sitting here on the deck of my budget guest house in this paradise watching the tropical birds and waiting for my interrogation later this afternoon. There are plenty worse places to be stranded.
None of my three bank cards would work when I arrived in Sri Lanka and I was down to my last few rupees yesterday (and ready to spend them on beer) when I struck it rich at the only international bank I could find, HBSC, and managed a cash advance on the one Mastercard that would work. My friends Gerry and Paul have left to do the "ancient cities" circuit north of here, so I don't know when or if I will catch up to them. Gerry and I both bought SIM cards for our unlocked GMS cel phones so we can call each other directly for pennies.
My buddy Richard Is now back in Canada after a two week jaunt that took us from Mumbai on the northwest coast, through Goa, Mysore, the hill station of Ooty and back to the southwest coast at Kochin, a big city with a lot of small city, old world charm. Our last hotel was the Tea Bungalow, an 8 room boutique hotel born out of an abandoned 1912 British colonial mansion. It was four star and exquisite, and way too much money for any self respecting backpacker (even well-heeled ones) to pay. It was worth every penny. And given that we took a lot of local transport, beater buses, 2nd class rail cars, auto rickshaws, and stayed in reasonably low rent accommodation, I was in the end (and in good conscience), able to confer on the neophyte traveller Richard, a certificate in "upscale backpacking". As I well knew, its back to a more hard core style of travel with Gerry and Paul. I am now occupying a small fan room, no bath, mosquito net, for 1000 rupees ($10).
Southern India was a distinct and welcome change from our more northern tour through Rajastan, Agra, Varanasi and Delhi, which we also much enjoyed. The southern weather was hot and sunny every day, the exception being the cooler days and chilly evenings in Ooty, a former British hill station that sits at 6000 ft. in the hills south of Mysore. We took a guided walk through the pine and eucalyptus forests, tea plantations and hill tribe villages around Ooty. Goa was pretty much as expected. Extended stretches of broad beachfront was continuously backed by beach shacks selling beer and food and behind them small hotels and up scale private residences. In front of the more affluent hotels strips the beaches are packed with fair skinned burning tourists (lots of Russians) roasting in beach chairs or huddled under umbrellas for miles. The abundant and decaying remnants of Portuguese colonial architecture gives a superficial snapshot of the beach scene suggesting a carbon copy of the the Spanish Dominican Republic we toured last year. In fact we listened to a debate between some Brits, of the relative merits of "the Four Star experience" in Cuba and India. Alas, no mention of the Cuban or Indian people and their contributions to the experience, the talk being restricted to hotel infrastructure, shopping, beaches, liquor and continental food. Oh well, to each his own. An interesting contrast were the Indian beach crowd who congregated in great throngs near public access points served by local buses. No bikinis here, short pants and t-shirts seemed risque attire for females, and many women just waded in wearing the full sari gown.
For me what most separates India from our other travels is the incredible opportunity to better understand this incredibly rich, diverse and confounding culture through direct communication with the Indian people themselves. Many Indians of all walks of life speak good English and, once one's ear is tuned to the music of their dialects, the conversations are rich and entertaining. Indians are just busting to tell you their stories, answer your questions, explain the "miracle" of their democracy, interpret their culture and legends, and to politely grill you over the details of your professional and personal life and to listen intently and with horror at your stories of the Canadian winter experience. First class train travel offers a particularly rich opportunity to meet Indian professionals and business people. Their often erudite and analytic understanding and discussion of national and international issues and their somewhat aggressive willingness to force a person to rationalize and defend one's own views, made long trips considerably shorter. I wish I was fluent in Thai, Mandarin,Vietnamese........
A few general observations:
- An Australian found a place to drink beer in the Holy city of Pushkar in a matter of minutes (Alcohol is banned there) and he kindly shared this knowledge with me . Brilliant!
- Indian women ride side saddle on their mens' motorcycles in their saris and with no helmets. Bloody daredevils!
- Canadians have custom ring tones for their phones; Indians have custom horn blasts for their bikes, cars and trucks. Bloody headache!!
- A hand held GPS is a right useful tool when you can't find your hotel in the dark after a few Kingfishers (beer)
- A new safety measure has been implemented by Indian Railways after fog related train collisions last month; No passengers are now allowed in the rear car of the train.- A hand held GPS is a right useful tool when you can't find your hotel in the dark after a few Kingfishers (beer)
Well ordinarily, I'd have a Kingfisher about now, but I face an inquisition at the office of the Indian High Commissioner in a few hours, so I guess that will be a fresh lime water and maybe some cold melon soup. Delicious.
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