12^th September 2006 - India exceeds expectations (so far)

Getting into India took rather longer than getting out of Pakistan, partly because the customs official doing the paperwork couldn't seem to grasp the idea that 4 people, 3 travelling on Dutch passports and one on an Irish passport, could be travelling together in two vehicles...  The vehicles also got a more thorough inspection than we've experienced anywhere else, but finally we were free to enter India.  We spotted an Irish Land Rover Discovery at the border and we were told that it had been impounded as the owner had no Carnet de Passage and if he didn't come back within 15 days the customs officials were going to sell it and deduct their costs.  Oh dear...

After turning down the offer of a cold beer at the border (sadly, we didn't have any money!), we drove the 30 or so kilometres to Amritsar, our first stop in India.  Our first impressions of Indian roads were good - the road surface was better than most roads we'd driven in Pakistan (obviously excluding the motorways, which were excellent) and the traffic not nearly as crazy as we'd been led to believe.  After driving through some very narrow streets in the centre of Amritsar, we managed to find our destination in a leafy suburb: Mrs Bhandari's Guesthouse.  This had been recommended to us as a good place to camp, though a bit expensive, and the description turned out to be accurate.  We had our first beer in India (though this was less of an event for us than for Frank and Martine, as we had had plentiful supplies of alcohol in Islamabad - thanks, Cathy!) and met some nice people, including David, a retired Englishman who had driven his Land Rover to India and was about to start the return trip to the UK.  It's always nice to meet a fellow Land Rover driver - we have a feeling that we won't see many here in India!

We particularly appreciated the swimming pool at Mrs Bhandari's - although we had managed a couple of trips to the swimming pool at the British Club in Islamabad with Cathy, apart from that we hadn't had a chance to swim since Turkey.  Generally, India felt much more relaxed than Pakistan, especially for Lizzy and Martine, who no longer had to worry about what kind of clothing they should be wearing in public.  As we drove through the streets of Amritsar, we noticed some girls wearing Western dress, though the majority were wearing either shalwar kameez with a scarf-like dupatta (used to cover the chest and sometimes the head) or a sari.  The shalwar kameez was familiar from Pakistan but a big difference here was that few of the women, whatever their style of dress, seemed to cover their heads except when visiting holy sites.  The most striking difference, though, was that there were women everywhere: confident women, riding scooters, driving cars, travelling alone in rickshaws and generally acting independently.

The main attraction in Amritsar is, of course, the Golden Temple, the holiest site of the Sikh religion.  Entrance to the temple complex is free although all visitors (including the men - at last, some equality in the dress rules) must cover their heads as a mark of respect (although we're not sure that Roel's idea of knotting his 'headscarf' at the corners and wearing it in the style of an elderly Englishman on the beach was entirely in accord with this respect).  We spent a couple of hours wandering around it in the morning, watching Sikh men, young and old, taking a ritual bath in the sacred Pool of Nectar which surrounds the beautiful golden temple at the heart of the complex and listening to the constant chant of verses from the Guru Granth Sahib, the Sikhs' holy book, emanating from the temple.  It is a very restful place and the seriousness of the proud Sikh people visiting their holy place inspired awe in all of us.  We returned in the evening to witness the evening ceremony in which the Guru Granth Sahib is moved from the golden temple to another temple in the complex for the night.  We were particularly impressed by the enormous and rousing horn that was sounded regularly as the holy book processed from one location to the other.

From Amritsar, we drove north east to McLeod Ganj, where the Tibetan Government-in-Exile and the Dalai Lama have based themselves since the Chinese occupation of Tibet began in the 1950s.  We took rooms at Pause Dwelling, which had been recommended to us by Dick and Nana, and set out on foot to explore the (very hilly!) town.  It felt strange to wander the streets among the friendly Tibetan monks in their distinctive dark red and yellow robes.  Although McLeod Ganj is very much oriented towards travellers, many of whom come here to study Tibetan Buddhism or just to hang out and imbibe something of Tibetan culture, the presence of the monks and the fact that the town was constantly wreathed in mist, or rather clouds, gave it an otherworldly atmosphere.  We enjoyed exploring the temple complex, with its beautiful murals and observing the silent respectful worship of the monks and other Tibetans.  We all silently turned each of the many prayer wheels around the temple, not sure exactly what effect it would have but somehow feeling that we were doing something positive.  From the main temple we walked downhill to another temple complex, surrounded by colourful Tibetan prayer flags, beautiful against the misty backdrop.  All in all, we were very impressed with both Tibetan Buddhism and Tibetan culture, particularly as we learned more about the Chinese occupation of Tibet and the hardships the Tibetan people have had to endure as a result.  One evening we watched a film about refugees escaping from Tibet and we also watched a documentary about the Tibetan situation, both of which were moving and enlightening.  We had seen interviews with the Dalai Lama before, but we were even more impressed with his positive outlook on life now that we were more aware of his situation and that of the Tibetan people.  Although we are not visiting Tibet on this trip, Frank and Martine are going there so we look forward to hearing their impressions of the situation there at the moment and perhaps visiting some day in the future, hopefully at a time when the Tibetan people are free to practise their religion and culture in their own country.

Another positive aspect of being in McLeod Ganj was the excellent food (and drink) available there.  Martine and Lizzy particularly enjoyed the chance to sample the (very sweet) local apple wine!  Although we love Indian food and had had some fantastic meals in Amritsar, it was fun to try Tibetan, Chinese and even Japanese food for a change.

After McLeod Ganj, our next destination was Rishikesh, a Hindu pilgrimage site on the banks of the holy river Ganges.  From our maps, we thought we would be able to drive there in two days, stopping overnight at Tattapani, where there are hot sulphur springs.  However, as soon as we turned off the main road to the minor road leading to Tattapani, it became clear that the drive would be longer than we thought.  The road was very beautiful, twisting through misty wooded hills, but all the hairpin bends and blind corners made it impossible to drive faster than 35km/h.  As we drove, the mist came down even more and we had to slow down even further.  As darkness fell, we found a camping spot in the middle of nowhere (not something we'll find very often in India, we suspect!).

Next day, the roads were very similar and at times the visibility was even worse.  We drove past the hill station of Shimla, barely able to see it through the mist, and pressed on towards Rishikesh.  After an hour of driving on roads teeming with pedestrians, cyclists and all manner of other traffic in the dusk/dark, we called it a day in Dehradun, where we found an extremely nice hotel that was willing to offer us spotless rooms for almost half their usual price...  After a great meal at the dhaba (low-cost local restaurant) opposite, we retired to our rooms to get our money's worth from the satellite TV and hot showers...

We drove the remaining 40km to Rishikesh the next morning.  After a futile attempt at camping in the (very damp) car park of Bhandari Swiss Cottage, we ended up taking a room at New Bhandari Swiss Cottage (no idea why the names are so similar - almost every hotel here seems to be called 'Something Cottage', Swiss or otherwise...).  We set out on foot to explore the Swarg Ashram area on the other side of the river, where most of the ashrams (the retreats where people go to meditate) are, and almost immediately it started to rain and we were soaked through!  Luckily the rain didn't last long and we crossed the bridge over the Ganges and wandered for an hour or two exploring the temples in the ashrams and the ghats where people go to bathe in the river.  Generally, we find Hinduism more difficult to relate to than Sikhism or Tibetan Buddhism, partly because there are so many gods and we only recognise about three of them!  But we will keep persevering as there's certainly plenty to learn about!

The second day in Rishikesh Lizzy went for an 8km walk to a waterfall with Frank and Martine, while Roel caught up on other travellers' websites.  Next morning, we all had a bit of a workout by attending a yoga class (which apparently is the thing to do in Rishikesh, the 'yoga capital of the world').  We all enjoyed the exercise aspect of the class, though we were less convinced by the spiritual side...  Perhaps we'll feel differently when India has finished working its 'magic' on us... (and perhaps not...)

4th October 2006 - Flying visits to Delhi and Agra

In Rishikesh we said goodbye to Frank and Martine, who were heading east across the top of India to enter Nepal south of Kathmandu, and drove south to Delhi.  It had been a fantastic experience to travel with them both and we were sorry to say goodbye, although we were sure we'd stay in touch and hopeful we might meet later in our trip in Nepal and/or Australia.

Arriving in Delhi we checked into a guesthouse in the Tibetan colony, hoping to soak up some of the Tibetan atmosphere we'd enjoyed in McLeod Ganj and escape the most hectic aspects of the city.  However, talking about our plans that evening we realised that neither of us was that enthusiastic about spending time in a big city anyway and we didn't actually have that much time in India as we plan to be in Australia in time for Christmas, so we would rather spend time exploring other parts of India.  Next morning we drove on to Agra and were in time to catch the sunset at the Taj Mahal.  This is an amazing building - none of the pictures we have seen really do justice to its scale and beauty.  Watching it change colour gradually as the sun sank below the horizon was really moving.

In our new spirit of moving on quickly and getting to the rest of India, we set out again early the next morning and drove almost to the border with Nepal at Banbassa (in the extreme west of Nepal).  This is a very small border and the Landy was the only motorised vehicle crossing at the time (though there were lots of bikes and cycle-rickshaws).  We left the Indian side with minimal fuss and entered the confusing area of no-man's land to search for the Nepali checkpoint!

25 October 2006 -  India again

We crossed the border back into India on the last day of Dussehra (the Indian equivalent of the festival of Dasain that we'd already experienced in Nepal).  As we headed south to Varanasi, we passed many roadside shrines set up temporarily for the festival - colourful pavilions filled with images of Hindu gods, each blaring out music at deafening volume (although no-one but us seemed to take any notice of them - they were all completely deserted).  Several of the rivers we crossed had people on the bridge or on the banks making music and throwing large colourful images of the goddess Durga (in whose honour Dussehra is held) into the water.

Varanasi is an 'interesting' place - probably not somewhere we'll go back to but definitely worth seeing.  It's hard to believe that people let a 'holy' river get quite so dirty - we'd thought the Ganges in Rishikesh was pretty grubby when we were there but by the time it gets to Varanasi the river is pretty much an open sewer.  An open sewer with people bathing in it, doing their washing in it (no way were we having any laundry done in Varanasi!) and even drinking it!  The best time to observe all this is supposed to be early morning so we arranged a boat trip at 5.15am one morning.  There was certainly plenty to see - apart from bathing, washing and drinking, activities on the banks included meditation, yoga, making offerings of garlands of brightly coloured flowers to the river, performing rituals involving music and candles and (at the designated cremation ghats) cremation rituals.  There are also interesting things to see in the river itself - as well as the offerings of flowers many of the Durga effigies that had been pushed into the river during Dussehra were still floating around, decomposing gradually.  Some of these looked uncannily like dead bodies floating in the river, a sight which we had been prepared for (but weren't too unhappy to miss out on) as according to the Hindu faith certain classes of people (including sadhus (the eccentric-looking holy men who wander around India's Hindu pilgrimage sites wearing orange and living off donations), pregnant women and babies) are not cremated but instead their bodies are put into the river, allegedly weighed down with stones but this can't be too effective as many tourists have reported sightings...

Unfortunately most of the other boats on the river were occupied by tourists or people trying to sell souvenirs to tourists - the latter being pretty persistent in trying to board the tourist boats.  Several people had thought of the clever wheeze of pressing offerings with lighted candles into tourists' hands for them to put in the river and then demanding money.  One of these was waiting for us on our boat and, possibly because we were half asleep at that time of the morning, we all assumed that this was part of the trip (organised by the hotel) and obediently set our little lights off floating down the river.  It soon became clear that we'd made a mistake and we paid the small amount asked of us and put it down to experience (although one of our party fell for the same trick a second time on the boat trip).  It's sad, but experiences like these foster a cynicism and distrust of local people which we've found it more difficult to avoid in India than anywhere else we've been.  So often, apparently genuine interaction with local people turns into a sales tactic or even just a straightforward demand for money - it's hard not to let this sour the experience of travelling in India.

Our experience of Varanasi was also somewhat soured (and prolonged) by the fact that we both got ill (we blame some chicken that we ate in the (seemingly pristine) restaurant of our hotel - an unfortunate breach of the vegetarian habit we'd got into in Pakistan and India).  Roel came off worst (he'd ordered the chicken and eaten most of it), but after a couple of days we were both well enough to be on the road again.

Reading the above, it sounds like we don't like India very much, but despite these negative aspects of travelling in India we're still really enjoying the immense variety of experiences this country has to offer.  Sometimes, as in Varanasi, the most extreme (and often disgusting) sights are the most fascinating.  Our good friend Little Dave, who's travelling on the Exodus overland trip we've bumped into several times on this trip, aptly summed up this aspect of India's appeal with the words 'you're never more than a moment away from a man urinating in the street, a dead dog or a cow eating a cardboard box'...  Not sure the Indian Tourism Board will be asking him for the rights to use this in their next ad, but it certainly struck a chord with us!

Driving in India is another one of those experiences that are endlessly fascinating, though not necessarily in a good way.  Just to give you the idea, here are a few of the aspects of Indian driving we find most entertaining/frustrating (depending on what kind of day we've had):

1. Mirrors

Rule 1 in India is that nobody looks in their mirrors - EVER.  Many drivers are helpful enough to fold their wing mirrors (if they have any) in to the side of the vehicle to make you aware of the fact that they have no intention of using them.  Trucks indicate the same thing by having 'BLOW HORN' in large letters on the back of the trailer (though this is often confused by the tendency to stick 'OK' or 'TATA' (the most popular make of truck in India) in there somewhere as well - as in 'BLOW OK HORN' or even 'O BLOW TATA HORN K').  In any case, it's a safe assumption that when you approach a vehicle from behind the driver won't have a clue you're there until you've hooted at least three times (and consequently will feel free to do whatever he likes, including slamming on the brakes (don't be silly, of course his brake lights don't work), veering abruptly to either side or turning right (we'll get on to the subject of indicators in a minute)).

2. Indicator etiquette

This is really strange one.  Every country we've ever been to up to Iran has had the same rules about using indicators as we do at home, i.e. indicators on the right flashing to show the vehicle is about to move right, indicators on the left to show a move to the left.  We rather thought this was universal, but then we started to notice something really strange in Pakistan.  When we approached a particularly slow-moving truck (and they are very slow in Pakistan, top speed peaks at around 30km/h - that's about 18 mph for you Brits) and were just pulling out to overtake, the truck would start to indicate right (they drive on the left in Pakistan and India, in case you were wondering).  Obviously this was a bit alarming, so initially we would pull in behind again and wait for whatever crazy manoeuvre was coming up.  But nothing happened (indicator still flashing though) and after a while we decided to just go for it anyway as he'd obviously turned the indicator on by accident and forgotten about it.  Once safely past we'd look back to see that the indicator was now off.  Weird.  After a few encounters of this nature we had to face facts - Pakistan and India have different rules about indicators from the rest of the world.  Indicating right means that the person behind should feel free to move right, whereas indicating left means it's not safe to overtake (!).  We're just about managing to get used to all this, but the real joker in the pack is that there are about a dozen Indians driving around who have read the Highway Code and indicate the usual way - we've encountered 3 of them so far, but if anybody sees the other 9 please could you tell them to look out for a blue Land Rover ...

3. Joining a major road

Just as an Indian driver would never be seen dead looking in his mirrors, the idea of sparing a sideways glance for the traffic already on a road as you drive onto it (from a side road, standstill, whatever) is deeply unfashionable in India.  No, the thing to do is to build up some speed and just drive straight on without looking (preferably using a mobile phone at the same time as this seriously increases your street cred with the other traffic and tunes out all that noisy hooting as you join).  In the unlikely event that a driver already on the road manages to spot you during your approach and hoot at you before you join the road (say, someone who's going to have to veer into the path of oncoming traffic to avoid you) AND (very unlikely) you actually hear this over the sound of your music/mobile phone, this sort of impertinence is best dealt with dismissively, so pretend you haven't heard (but put your foot down a bit harder just to show them who's boss)...

These are just a few of the highlights of driving in India - we could go on for ages, but throw in the fact that the 'other traffic' includes everything from trained elephants and camel-drawn carts to cows sleeping on the white line in the middle of the road to buses swerving round corners at 100km/h and seriously overloaded trucks with worn-out brakes and we think you'll get the idea...

From Varanasi, we headed west towards Rajasthan, the long drive giving us plenty of time for further observation of the subtle art that is Indian driving.  We stopped for the night at Khajuraho, famous for its 'erotic' temples.  The temples, some of which date back to 950 BC, are extremely well preserved and the detail of the carvings was really impressive.  It's true that some of the carvings are erotic, depicting couples in all sorts of positions and even the odd orgy, and the temples are justly famous for this unusual art and the fact that it pre-dates the Kama Sutra, but even without this they would be worth a visit as they're some of the most beautiful buildings we've seen on this trip.  Sadly, the town of Khajuraho itself isn't a great place to spend time - the touts were some of the most persistent we've experienced on this trip.  We couldn't even buy a few things in a corner shop without the salesman repeatedly trying to sell us other things we didn't want!

Our next stop on the way west was Orchha, famous for temples and palaces.  After Khajuraho, we enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere here.  In the afternoon, we had a wander round the palaces, which were quite impressive, though surpassed by those we saw later in Rajasthan.  Over dinner, we met a girl from Australia who was also staying in our hotel.  After dinner, we heard music coming from one of the temples and Lizzy went with the Australian girl to investigate (Roel decided to have an early night as he was still suffering from the ill-effects of the chicken in Varanasi).  The people at the ceremony were really friendly and welcoming, seeming really pleased that we were sharing their worship.  It was a moving experience to stand among them as they sang and chanted and after the ceremony many of them came up to talk to us and to explain the different shrines in the temple to us.

From Orchha, we drove to Bundi, our first stop in Rajasthan.  We instantly took to the atmosphere there, which is quite relaxed and, as yet, not too touristy.  We stayed in a lovely guesthouse, Kasera Heritage View, run by a friendly young couple, which had amazing views of the palace on the hillside above and over the roofs of the rest of the city.  Many of the houses are painted a beautiful shade of blue - traditionally this signified that the house was occupied by Brahmins, members of the highest Hindu caste, but nowadays many more houses in Rajasthan are this colour just because their owners like the way it looks.  The next day we explored the palace, which was well worth the hot steep climb to get there.  We had the place almost to ourselves and were free to roam almost everywhere (including the roof, which has stunning views) as it's uninhabited (except for the numerous bats - and a very large hive of bees!).  It's famous for its wall-paintings and these were really impressive - huge crowd scenes of hundreds of elephants, horses, deities and people were preserved in amazingly vivid colours.

After a couple of days relaxing in Bundi, we headed for Udaipur, where palaces are again the main attraction - one of them in the centre of the lake on whose shores Udaipur is located (although this is a very expensive hotel and closed to non-guests, so we had to be content with admiring it from afar).  On a tip from a friendly Dutch couple we'd met in Bundi, we headed for a brand new hotel called The Tiger, which is right in the heart of everything, close to the lake.  This turned out to be an excellent choice as the rooms were beautifully designed and the staff were friendly and eager to please.  On our first evening we watched a beautiful sunset over the lake from the hotel's roof terrace.  Next day, we visited the City Palace, which overlooks the lake from a hill in the centre of the city.  This was beautiful, with many varied rooms decorated at different times by the successive Maharajas of Udaipur, although it was extremely busy when we visited.  For both atmosphere and the quality of the wall-paintings, we found that we preferred the palace in Bundi.  Overall, Udaipur was rather too full of tourists, and tourist facilities, for our liking.  Apart from our hotel, the main highlight of Udaipur was the excellent food and atmosphere at the Savage Garden restaurant and Cafe Edelweiss, both under the same management as our hotel.

It was Roel's birthday on the day we left Udaipur and he was adamant that he wanted to spend his birthday doing what he likes best - driving.  So we set off on the road south towards Mumbai for what turned out to be a long day enjoying(!) the delights of Indian driving.  After an hour or so of driving after dark (always a fun experience in India) we checked in, exhausted, to a ridiculously overpriced hotel in Daman, a former Portuguese colony on the coast in the state of Gujurat.   We managed to eat some food and even toast Roel's birthday with a beer before collapsing into bed.

Daman is a popular holiday destination for Indians, but from what we saw this must be largely due to the cheap beer (a legacy of its Portuguese past) as the beach was filthy.  To be fair, we didn't really linger long enough to give it much of a chance (and we never saw the town centre, so perhaps that's stunning...) - we headed further south the next day towards Mumbai.  We had been debating for some days whether we really wanted to visit the city of Mumbai itself.  We're not really that into cities and by this time the draw of getting to Goa and being able to lie out on a beach for the first time since Greece was getting really strong.  We decided we'd compromise and visit Pune, which is a very modern university city and a centre for India's booming technology industries, but much smaller and more manageable than Mumbai so more easily visited in a day or so.  We bypassed Mumbai (with difficulty, the road signs there are truly appalling) and arrived in Pune in the early evening.  Compared to the rest of India, it did indeed seem very modern (and quite clean), though the traffic was pretty chaotic.  We stayed in Koregaon Park, the area of the city where the Osho Meditation Centre is based.  Founded by Osho (aka Bhagvan Shree Rajneesh), a yoga and meditation master with a worldwide following (possibly due to his advocacy of sex as a means to spiritual enlightenment?), the meditation centre is still very popular despite his death in 1990 and we saw many people (mostly Westerners) wandering round in the maroon robes his disciples wear.  The proximity of the meditation centre also had an impact on the restaurants in the area we stayed in, which were all vegetarian and pretty focused on healthy food.

After two nights in Pune, we took some smaller roads to cut across to the coast to our next destination, Ganpatipule.  This is a popular resort for Indian families and, this time, we could see exactly why.  The palm-fringed sea was lovely and we stayed in a prime spot right on the beach, at the MTDC Resort.  Although it was by no means a fancy hotel, it was quite expensive by our standards.  As in Daman, we were amazed by the price difference between accommodation targeted at Indian tourists and that targeted at Western tourists.  Arriving in Arambol in northern Goa the next day we checked into a lovely little guesthouse called Lamuella which had much nicer accommodation (though a less spectacular location) for exactly a quarter of the price we had paid in Daman!  We chose Arambol because we'd heard it was one of the quietest of the northern beaches in Goa.  No doubt it is quieter than many other places, but we were still disappointed that it seemed very developed, with many indistinguishable restaurants and lots of shops selling holiday clothes and souvenirs.  The season hadn't really started yet, but already there were quite a lot of tourists around.  Generally the vibe seemed to be a bit grungy for us, with lots of dreadlocks in evidence and regular trance parties on the beach.  The crowd at Lamuella were clearly into all this, but they were generally pretty friendly and welcomed us into their midst.

After a couple of days in Arambol, we were looking forward to going somewhere quieter where we hoped to be able to camp, especially as the weather was perfect for camping with the hot days cooling off nicely in the evening.  We set off south towards Agonda, a beach which is legendary with overlanders (being one of the few places you can camp right on the beach).  En route, we stopped to admire the Cathedral and Church of St Francis of Assisi in Old Goa.  It felt a bit strange not having to take your shoes off before going into a place of worship - we have got so used to this in the mosques in all the Muslim countries we've visited and the Sikh, Hindu, Jain and Buddhist temples here and in Nepal.

Agonda did not disappoint.  The beach is beautiful, the village quiet but with just enough facilities (and more opening every day as the season starts) to supply our wants.  We have a perfect camping spot at the quiet end of the beach.  When we arrived there was another overland vehicle there already, a converted Land Rover Defender (see photo below) belonging to a retired French couple.  They left a few days ago, bequeathing us the stray dog they'd been feeding since they found him with a leg injury.  He's quite sweet, though a little over-enthusiastic about barking at strangers who come too close to the Landy!  There are just enough other travellers around to have people to chat to when we want to.  If we feel the need of more excitement, we just hop on our hired scooter for the 9km to Palolem, where there is an amazing beach and a bustling backpacker scene.  But mostly we just hang out on the beach...

15th November 2006 - The first leg of our trip draws to an end

After a fantastic, relaxing fortnight in Goa, we set off to see a bit more of South India before shipping the Landy to Australia.  We headed south, through Karnataka, to Kochi (formerly known as Cochin, and still frequently referred to that way).  We stayed on the island of Fort Kochi, which is a relaxing town full of decaying reminders of its colonial occupation by the Portuguese, Dutch and British, very different from the modern bustling city of Ernakulam on the mainland at Kochi, which we drove through on the way.  We spent a pleasant few days exploring Fort Kochi's narrow streets and visiting churches, the synagogue and Mattancherry Palace (also called the 'Dutch Palace' though this is only because it was renovated by Dutch colonists).  We managed to time our visit to meet up with Cathy, our friend who lives in Islamabad, and her sister, Jenny, who were just finishing a holiday in Kerala.  Cathy persuaded the rest of us to go to a performance of Indian classical music, which turned out to be an amazing experience.  The audience consisted of just the four of us, but the three performers were clearly enjoying the music so much that they probably wouldn't have cared if there was no-one there but them.  The way they passed the rhythm seamlessly between themselves, producing a huge range of sounds both from their instruments (Indian flute, tabla (drums) and another Indian percussion instrument that resembled a tambourine) and just by clapping, slapping and tapping their hands, had us all riveted.   We were even more impressed when they told us at the end that everything we had heard had been improvised!

We decided to stay an extra day in Kochi after Cathy and Jenny had left, to see a performance of Kathakali, Kerala's famous classical dance/drama.  This was also pretty impressive, particularly the brightly-coloured costumes and make-up and the performers' exaggerated use of facial expressions to express emotions, but we both agreed that the classical music had been a more memorable experience.  Our extra day wasn't wasted, though, as we got confirmation that our Australia visas had been granted and spent much of the day confirming arrangements for shipping the Landy and booking flights to Bangkok and on to Australia.

The next day we headed south to Alappuzha (also known as Alleppey), the main starting-point for Kerala's famous backwater cruises, on board houseboats based on traditional Keralan 'kettuvalam' rice barges.  We hadn't booked a boat in advance, as we wanted to check exactly what we'd be getting before we committed ourselves.  On arrival in Alappuzha we struck it lucky by checking into a guesthouse called Cherukara Nest, which had a simple but beautiful houseboat available for an overnight cruise next day.  The cruise was a really special experience.  It was great to get away from the hectic Indian traffic and see life go by at a slower pace.  Local people using the river to wash their clothes/the dishes/themselves smiled and waved at us and chatted to the guys who were crewing our boat.  Just before sunset we moored for the night and we were served a delicious meal of curried chicken, enormous freshwater prawns and vegetables.  It was fantastic to fall asleep to the nighttime sounds of the river and wake up to see the river right outside our window.  We loved the simplicity of our boat - many of the others we saw going by were so luxurious that they were totally out of keeping with the simple bamboo, palm and coconut materials of which these boats are made.  With their glazed windows, air-conditioning, flat-screen televisions and multiple lounging decks they looked more like paddle steamers than kettuvallam!

From Kerala, we needed to get to Chennai quite quickly to start organising things for shipping the Landy, so we decided to drive straight across south India rather than going round the southern coast.  We stopped for a night in Pondicherry, a former French colony, which was rather a surreal experience as it felt more like France than India - the streets were clean and there were pavements to walk on!  Still, we thoroughly enjoyed our night in a lovely old colonial house and the chance to eat some delicious French food!  On our way north, we stopped to visit the international community of Auroville, where people from 40 countries live in harmony and spend their time on worthwhile projects such as developing environmentally friendly building techniques, organic farming methods and natural medicines.  We were impressed by Auroville and it's aims - apart from anything else, having witnessed so much misunderstanding and conflict in the countries we've been to, any project that encourages cooperation between people from different countries and backgrounds definitely gets our vote.

Our final stop before Chennai was the small town of Mahabalipuram, which is famous for its Dravidian temples.  On the way there we experienced the heaviest rainstorm we've seen, which flooded the streets of the towns we passed through.  We weren't cheered to hear that the forecast for Mamallipuram and, more importantly for us, Chennai was more of the same - indefinitely.  Apparently we had timed our departure in the middle of the 'second monsoon' in South India - fantastic.  Getting the Landy clean enough to please the Australian authorities looked like a daunting task...  We managed to visit some of the temples the next morning during a break in the rains.  The temples known as the 'Five Rathas', each of which is carved out of a single stone, were particularly impressive (although they didn't look that much like 'rathas' (chariots) in our expert opinion...).

The rains came back in full force just as we entered Chennai.  We managed to find a hotel that had been recommended to us by other overlanders just as the rain was at its heaviest and a thunderstorm was raging.  Unfortunately they were full and none of the other hotels nearby looked too salubrious.  Thoroughly soaked (and a bit shaken by a bolt of lightning that had been a little too close for comfort!), we took refuge in the Landy.  After some more fruitless enquiries, we ended up at Hotel Himalaya, which was cheap but friendly.  This became our home for the next week as we coordinated our Landy-cleaning operations with the frequent rains.  Luckily the last couple of days before we put the Landy in the container were relatively dry and the Landy was looking pretty good as we drove to the offices of our agent, Interfreight.  We followed the Interfreight guy on his motorbike to the place where the Landy was to be loaded into the container, only to discover that the recent rains had turned the whole area into a morass of mud.  By driving really slowly Roel managed to keep the mud from splashing up onto the bodywork and underside of the Landy, but the heavy tread of the all-terrain tyres was packed with soft mud when we pulled up beside the container!  After an hour's hard work (involving painstakingly scraping between each of the treads with a screwdriver and lots of sponging and dousing) the tyres were relatively clean, although not perfect.  There was nothing for it but to drive the Landy into the container and just hope that it would be good enough for the Australian quarantine inspectors.

We said goodbye to the Landy and left as the container was being fumigated.  Our flight leaves Chennai for Bangkok on Friday, so we just have a couple of days left here to enjoy a last thali or two and try to adjust to living life out of a backpack...