Bangalore-Mysore-Cochin, then Munnar, then some other places, lots of pukey buses, Ooty, someplace in the middle of nowhere and back to Bangalore...

Suburban Bangalore

The whole 'slow traveler' thing is going much better than expected, (often not through choice) I frequently extend my stops in various places which allows me to relax a little, get to know the area and the people and spend a couple of days doing 'everyday stuff'. The reason this is often forced upon me is the delays required when booking transport, maybe I should book my outward ticket as soon as I arrive, but doesn't take something of the spontaneity. Yup, I still have this silly romantic idea that some day a chance encounter with a stranger on a train, in a dosa place or in a bar will uncover opportunities un-imagined. A trip off the beaten track perhaps, an impromptu homestay with a curious family in a village where time has stayed still for hundreds of years, maybe a job opportunity teaching in a local school "we were looking for an English science teacher but the volunteer agencies were charging too much", that kind of thing. Opportunity so far hasn't knocked, one day it might, but not to today (maybe that's on purpose, maybe not).

Still, I'm enjoying myself here, just traveling around in my usual bumbling style and seeing, rather soaking up all that goes on within my sight (and smell). I have the cough that comes with the dust and the pollution and have even lost my voice a couple of times because of it. No panic however, I have a large reserve of medicines and I can buy replacements if need be here. The coughs, cold-sores and head colds might indicate that I'm run down after several months on the road, or perhaps it says something about the hygiene of the people I share the trains, buses and the pavement with?

Crossroads in India Future

Namma Metro, whistle blower too late to stop my photography..

This fire is here most days

HAL museum

Bangalore is a fine city, I find it quite agreeable to my constitution. Firstly it's climate is cool at this time of year but not cold, the mid-day sun is hot but not roastingly so. The Autos have mostly converted to LPG which means that they don't produce that blue foggy two-stroke smoke that so many people associate with Indian cities, much to the relief of my lungs. It's generally a very prosperous place and everywhere you look there are beautiful little tree-lined streets, it even has a metro which is around 20% complete at the moment, but so far is clean and efficient, albeit highly overstaffed by security personnel, men and women employed partly or entirely to show passengers how to use an automated ticket machine and finally these guys who stand on the platform and blow a whistle at anyone naughty enough to cross the yellow line.
The thing is I like it here because it represents for me a possible future for India, there is a lot of hope for prosperity here, sure there is poverty, poorly treated workers and hard conditions, but in Bangalore it feels like all these problems will be sorted out one day, if only the population would stop growing so quickly. And there is the biggest problem of them all, people. The standard of living across the country has risen tremendously, for some. Pockets of obscene wealth and poverty co-exist within meters of each other. I'm not talking neighbourhoods here, but one or two families, at most a street of one economic group living almost on top of another. I suppose Bangalore is weighted toward having more prosperous mosaic tiles in the mix, however the problems are still there; how much economic growth and foreign money have to come into the country to improve the standard of living for everybody? 1.3% more than last year is the answer, doesn't sound much? What's 1.3% of 1.22 Billion?
Every year.

After an extended stay in Bangalore I took a four hour train ride to the nearby (Indian standards) city of Mysore. Everyone I have spoken to since has heard how much I dislike the place! Here's why: I could't find a host in Mysore, I couldn't even find a cheap hotel room for a couple of nights. Instead I reserved a 2000 INR (£20) a night fancy-ish hotel room in a busy part of town. As soon as I arrived I was set upon by devious rickshaw drivers who were in fact ALL the available rickshaw drivers around Mysore station, one of which attempted to get me to pay 50 to go to the hotel and when I insisted that he use the meter he took me on an extended route (I have GPS and maps on my smartphone- remember?) which I called him out on. Then there was the 'travel advisor' in the hotel who failed/refused to give any travel advice instead trying to sell me tours instead. The porters who want tips for saying hello, the offers of prostitution, practically everyone trying to sell me drugs, more asshole auto drivers trying to solicit tours and general rip-offs. Then there was the air, I took a walk late in the evening to check out the area around the hotel and to get an idea of the geography, I always do it, usually there is no problem with it. Not in Mysore; the dust rising from the roads was VERY visible, all the piles of garbage and dead leaves (heavily piss-sprinkled may I add) that had been collected during the day had all somehow burst into smoulder. I went to bed that night with the wheezes woke up with a nasty phlegm-y cough that has only just gone two weeks later. In fact if I'd found a place to stay in the outskirts, never went for for a walk at that time, hadn't been asked to bribe the palace guard (not as exciting as it sounds) and generally had more fun, then I wouldn't be moaning about the place. Still, walking around the palace was great! I couldn't take any photos of the inside, or the (another one) guard who was doing the old currency exchange scam. Here's some of the outside...

I also went to the zoo, somehow I always end up in a sad, sad zoo. Especially in places where I'm lost for things to do or a little down for some reason or the other. Mysore zoo was pretty, if you ignore the depressed primates and elephants whose legs are chained together for some reason or another.

Mysore zoo; surprisingly nice inside

A young tiger

The notices in the zoo may have just been the best thing

Sad passive-aggressive chimps

The oldest elephant

A nice place for a rest

That evening I booked a night bus to Enarkulam/Cochin, I've long given up asking for a day coach so I can look out of the window, for some (presumably) good reason most transport in India occurs at night. 
Here's how it goes: the bus fills up late in the evening at the bus stand (station), old tuberculosis-ridden men jostle to help people load their bags into the hold, then beg for a tip (10 rupees) for the privilege of watching an old diseased man carry a bag half his body weight. Then it's all go and the bus begins alternately hurtling, braking and sounding it's horn towards the destination. Almost immediately the Indians begin to bed down, seats recline to maximum, all remaining light and scenery is shut out behind dusty red curtains including over the view to the front. To drown out the phone chatter and the bus horn (horn most boat-like) a movie (limited plot, maximum catchy tunes, awesome moustaches) is played at full volume. The Indians on the bus seem to find this a comfortable volume and sleep even more soundly (seriously, I have no idea how, it's true- but to be honest my somewhat weighted sample says that they can sleep anywhere). I tried to listen to some music which is my usual technique for getting relaxed and sleepy, the movie drowned out the music easily. After the second movie (ugh) the steward dims the lights and sleep becomes a possibility, except for the guy next to you scratching his balls roughly every minute, trying to sit half on you every now and again or make weird insect noises at the back of his throat. More public transport observations later...
I arrived in Enarkulam ridiculously early, took an auto to the south junction railway station, then a train two stops south to Cherthalla.

After an amazing train ride in the dawn, arrival.

I had arranged a stay with a friend of an old couch-surfer, Girish. I knew that his house was a way out of the city, but never realised that it was in a village just minutes from the sea on one side and the backwaters on the other. I enjoyed staying there, it was similar to the idea I had of an impromptu homestay in a village, it's strange how things work out. Girish and his family were incredibly sweet and hospitable, here's their house:

A little bungalow in the woods, Girish dressed for business meetings!

I'm still not entirely at peace with the degree of hospitality and kindness being shown by couchsurfers and complete strangers on this trip, maybe it's linked to elements of self doubt, 'who am I to recieve this kind of treatment?' and 'what have I done to deserve such wonderful treatment?' are common thoughts to cross my mind. With my hosts help I see things, places and people that the usual/run-of-the mill tourist never sees. Honestly sometimes I feel like a thief directed to a jewelry shop by it's owner and given a key. For example, the backwaters.
Many tourists that visit this area of Kerala pay 300+ rupees per person per hour to go on a very brief boat trip out and around some of the more picturesque watercourses with a surly guide. It's would all be a bit like visiting a museum. Other wealthier tourists rent a houseboat for the the day at upwards of 5000 per person for a downmarket boat with roaches and bedbugs. With the help of my host I took a local water taxi crowded with local people that live in this picturesque spot out to a quiet quayside where I could stroll around and take in the place properly as I waited for the return boat to come and pick me up. It was a fantastic experience, as riding local public transport can be, for the tiny sum of 30 rupees return! You can see where the thief analogy comes from. Girish's mum sweetly provided me with delicious authentic Keralan home cooked breakfasts every morning, that's pretty good, isn't it? Learning how to express gratitude is sometimes the hardest thing. 
 

Sneaky photo

The backwaters of Kerala on a budget, does free fruit taste sweeter?

I couldn't quite believe it too

A view from the quayside where I was marooned

You too can have a career as a duck shepherd

 It was all quite wonderful! The view from the beach near Girish's place was amazing too, plus there were puppies ( they reminded me of my beach bum friends). Sadly they were predictably afraid of humans. Then it was a short ride to a local bar where I tried (it must be an acquired taste) some Toddy and ate some delicious chicken. What a day!

Kerala Sunset

I couldn't even finish a second glass, it was hard going. Apparently you're supposed to just drink it down quickly and it gets to taste better. It didn't.

I also went to have a brief look around Fort Cochin, I didn't stay long but I was pleasantly surprised by the low-rise nature of the town in spite being a prime tourist spot. Again I reached it by water bus for the hilarious sum of 4 rupees.

Santa Cruz Cathederal

Wow, Catholicism isn't this sexy? Is it? 

The famous 'chinese' fishing nets

Authentic dining experiences kept on coming as Girish and his old schoolmate Jijo took me to a stand around kitchen by a dusty dusty roadside where I had the nicest tapioca dosa, the boys had loads of quails eggs too, all the food was freshly cooked while we watched and judging by how busy the place was was of good quality. Here I learned that sometimes the best food is cooked under blue plastic by a dusty roadside.

'Ghetto' stand around kitchen (photo courtesy of Jijo Thomas)

In just two days I felt I had achieved a lot, it did leave me a little tired but I decided to go to Munnar (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Munnar) for a break from the humidity, my bad chest had not gotten any better and I figured some good, clean mountain air would help. Getting a bus was not easy, first I went to the wrong bus station (there are three in Enarkulam) then there were no rickshaws (on strike, one did pick me up, be he was nearly lynched by the other drivers when he tried to cross a picket) and I had to make my way across town with the overcrowded and crazy city buses. On the way across the city I bumped into another traveler at a bus stop who happened to also be a couchsurfer and going the same way. Bingo! So we took the five hour bus ride to Munnar together. I like traveling alone, however sometimes it's nice to have someone to chat to about more things than my good name and which country I am from. Just for a little while at least.

Too much beauty

The landscape around Munnar is mind-blowingly beautiful, there are so many shades of green I felt a little at home; tea plantations cover the valley floors with almost fluorescent colour. the foothills of the mountains are covered in the most wonderful spice-growing forests, the odd rice field here and there, colourful flowers and grasses rolling in rhythm with the wind complete the scene. I took a guided hike with Nora and a couple from the UK, I was worried about the chest infection I had building up and also the 6am start wasn't too good for general health. However I was so glad that I went. Pictures can never hope to capture the sight of the sun rising over the valleys of Kerala, but they can give you an idea.

Sunrise on the mountain trek

The fellow trekkers and Ganesh the guide

here comes the sun, do-do do-do

The wanderer. p.s I'm not wearing a cape, honest.

A family of mountain goats!

There was also a tea processing plant built in 1903 to see, it smelled fantastic!

Where the tea magic happens

Arvind, my awesome host/friend in Bangalore recommended I send a request to 'Jungle Johnnie' (there's a name for you) one day as I was going to try to spend a few nights in one of the National parks on the way back to Bangalore. To my surprise within 30minutes Johnnie called me inviting Nora and I to stay at his place near Ooty. Aside from having some female bait and the recommendation of Arvind I thought I had written a pretty good request...
We were toying with the idea of taking yet another night bus to Mysore (ugh) and then a local bus to Masinagudi. Johnnie suggested a more direct route by several local buses. I liked that idea better, there's nothing quite like getting public transport to be hit full in the face with local culture.
The first ride from Munnar was ok, we got a seat and no local schoolkids sat on our bags. Again the scenery was terrific, there's something else about the bus riding Indian. They sit near windows, but they don't like windows. They like blinds and continually fiddle with them, especially when someone is throwing up through the windows at the front of the bus, the road is rather curvy, and everyone knows (I thought) that you get travel sick if you can't see outside. If ever you see an Indian bus close up (the type with no glass in the windows and maybe bars) check the side to see the vomit marks. They're there, just look.

Scenery from the bus

Gringos on the bus, gringo-ing

The second bus ride was somehow more cramped and dirty, however a lovely man showed us how to get to the right bus station for Ooty in the middle of rush-hour Coimbatore, he even paid for our tickets! Sometimes the kindness of strangers... I've said this before, still it's nice.
Bars on the windows you ask? Want to know what they're for?
THEY ARE FOR STOPPING PEOPLE JUMPING INTO THE BUS THROUGH THE WINDOW!
One example is the boarding of the passengers into the Coimbatore-Ooty express bus, at first I was surprised to see an orderly queue leading to where the bus stopped, 'at last someone shows that things can be done without a riot taking place.

However, it all changed when the buses eventually showed up; first, before it stops the bus is surrounded by women carrying bags, jostling for position to get to the window that they desire most, when they get to their window they throw the bag(s) onto the seats that they intend to reserve for their families. While this is going on there is a mad dash for the place that the rest of the families think the door to the bus will come past slowly enough to make boarding possible. this dash degenerates into a mad scramble as the bus does slow down enough for people to jump aboard. Men, children and their elderly relatives give the struggle all they've got to get through the doors and to get to the seat where their families bags lay. Sounds logical? Getting on the bus quickly means success right?
Nope.
After a minute or two of this no-one is sitting down, they're all in the back half of the bus just a few meters from the door fighting, shoving and arguing over who's pushed in, who's moved this bag or that bag, who's elbowed who's granny in the face. Highly inefficient, highly Indian and after such a lovely queue as well.
If there were no bars on the windows of public transport I am convinced that smaller members of the family would be tossed through the windows by burly aunties, or even the burly aunties themselves would be projected through the window to defend the seat to the death.
This incident was repeated many times, occasionally with me as a participant. One of the things that I dislike about traveling in India is that I actively have to hold back on going all out and literally bulldozing my way through these situation with my superior size and strength, bellowing at the top of my lungs as I tear the arms off 40kg pensioners and club their grandchildren to death with the bloodied appendages. It can happen, not quite so violently but I caught myself shouting at the other passengers a few times.
It brings it out.

After an unplanned overnight stop in Ooty due to the national park closing it's gates after 6pm we continued to Johnnies place out in the 'jungle'. In fact I was shocked by the national park's resemblance to the African Savannah (that I've seen on documentaries). The forest was often bright and open below the trees, a dense invasive shrub covered some of the ground, but the elephants were working on that. Johnnie does indeed live out in the backwoods, he has created a little piece of paradise on his land. On the second day we went for a drive around the national park, here are some  photographs.

Arrival in the village

Working elephants and their Mahouts taking a bath in the river

Spotted deer

AN ACTUAL REAL LIFE BABY WILD ELEPHANT!!!!!!

A grey/common languor 

Pretty flowers in Johnnie's back yard

It was all rather lovely but over too fast, we got a ride back to Ooty and took the overnight bus to Bangalore. I know it was going to be a hard ride as although it was an A/C Volvo bus the attendant gave out sick bags as the ride began, two each. Within minutes all the curtains save ours were drawn, even the ones covering the view ahead (yes, there is such a thing) were Velcro'd shut. It was like being on a roller coaster for two hours with no visual references. Someone at the back of the bus began throwing up pretty much straight away, the omens were not good. The climax of the journey for me was when the bus stopped for a toilet break and six or seven women emerged shakily, tossed full bags of puke onto the grass and began vomiting in chorus. Other passengers stood around clearing mucus as loudly as possible, farting loudly as they went. Oh India.
That brings me to my last week, I chose to spend the majority of the time in Bangalore, Nora moved quickly onto Hampi on yet another night bus (I'm yet to hear and stories about that journey) but I stayed put in order to collect myself before the trip to New Zealand where I would hit the road immediately. The fact that I'm finishing this blog in a hostel in Auckland shows I was not too lucky with the internet when I stayed still, however I did a lot of reflecting. that will have to wait for another time.

Another day, another dosa...