Wednesday, 9 January 2013

Kerala – Our Last Hurrah in India!

Like the sands through the hourglass,
so are the days of our lives in India.
 
20th December 2012 – 9th January 2013
First stop Fort Kochi
As previously noted – we are getting these train trips down to a fine art – another over-nighter, 15 hours from Margao through the state of Karnataka to Fort Kochi in Kerala. From the train station at Ernakulam Town it is another 13 kilometres to Fort Kochi. The town is on one of the small group of islands joined by bridges to the mainland.
Dedicated to the fishermen of Fort Kochi
and their modes of catching the little fishies!
 
Haul 'em up buddy. We're waiting!
 

 
The Chinese Fishing Nets
These pre-colonial fishing nets on the waterfront are believed to have been introduced by Chinese traders in the early 14th century. Each structure is approximatly 10 metres tall. They are a cantilever system with an outstretched net suspended over the sea and large stones suspended from ropes as counterweights at the other end. The enterprise is operated by a team of around half a dozen fishermen. 
 
 
 
 
A fishing village in pre-colonial times, Fort Kochi is now a mix of old houses, built by the Portuguese, Dutch and British in their respective colonial periods, lining the narrow streets and alley ways. Throw in a few old churches, the food markets behind the famous Chinese fishing nets and that is Fort Kochi.
 St Francis Church was built in 1503 by the Portuguese as a Catholic church. Vasco da Gama was once buried in this church before his remains were eventually returned to his homeland, Portugal. 
 
 
Santa Cruz Basilica, seen decorated for Christmas, was also built by the Portuguese in the 16th century, then destroyed by the British, and rebuilt near the end of 19th century.

 
 
It is a lovely old town to wander spoilt only by its lack of decent restaurants. There are some, of course, but easily counted on one hand I would think. On our last night, the night of Boxing Day, we splurged out and went to the restaurant in the Old Harbour Hotel. That meal was delicious! The meal was a little more expensive than a typical Fort Kochi meal but well worth it.
One of the food stalls in the park near the waterfront
- sweet chillie, cauliflower, potato and onion pakoras
-  a delicious deep fried snack, mmmmm mmmmmm!
Can this be called graffiti?
The recent contemporary art festival in Fort Kochi took street art to another level. The work of this artist was amazing! 
  Just hanging around waiting for his driver!
 Christmas and festival bunting.
 The Old Harbour Restaurant
 Our shop in Jew Town, Mattancherry!

Another downside, the town had an abundance of mosquitoes. Neil had not long recovered from infected flea bites when struck again by a deadly mosquito – another infected bite, this time on his left leg. The moral of it all – don’t squeeze the pimple that comes after the mozzie bite.

Varkala 
 
On the day after Boxing Day we were on the train tracks again, southward bound. Varkala was not going to be our last stop before heading home but it turned out that way. Our return to Kochi for our flight out was to be via Alleppey and The Backwaters but the mozzie bite infection reared its ugly head and refused to die. So we decided to remain in Varkala until the healing was done and that took us through our time left in India.
Southern end (The Holy End) of Varkala on Sunday afternoon.
I think the locals know about it.

 Heading north of Varkala Headland




Varkala is a coastal town perched high on red cliffs above the Arabian Sea. Like many towns in India, Varkala is a holy town with a 2,000 year old temple. Many legends explain the town’s founding. The easiest one for me to remember is that a Pandyan King was instructed by Lord Brahma to build a temple at this very place to redeem him of his sins.

The temple is close to the beach which is thought to have holy waters that wash away sins. Once Neil was able to walk down the long flight of steps to the beach I was happy if the holy waters could help in the healing of the infection.
It's a fisherman's life.
 - beautiful scenery and life's essentials, his nets, boats and hut



 The catch being delivered to local restaurants

 
A Mosque with a view
 New Year disco lights


 
And so endeth our journeys through India!

It has been amazing - four months, thousands of kilometres, far north to very, very south - and still so much to see. Exotic India. India, the land of extremes and contradictions. The very, very rich and the desperately needy; Himalayan moonscapes - alpine mountains; desert plains - tropical jungles; spectacular palaces and impoverished slums. It is all there in this spectacular country. Hopefully we have both grown from our experiences. Your open smiles are printed in our hearts.
We will be gone but you will not be forgotten! 
 

Saturday, 29 December 2012

Going to Goa!!

27th November – 20th December
Arambol
Happy 60th Birthday Neil! What better way to spend the big 60 than an 11 hour train journey, Mumbai to Thivim? The tickets could only be bought the day before and I guess many get up and organised before us. Consequence No1 of too much beauty sleep - the night train was fully booked by the time we rolled into the booking office at 11am. Consequence No2 - we were left with another early morning start, and as I have just mentioned, something we do not excel at.
But we are getting to be old hands with train journeys in India. By the time we leave we should have the system sorted. Each time we learn something new. We now know how to read the train schedule at the station for the correct platform and how to ascertain where to stand on the platform for our carriage when it rolls in. Is that important you ask? Well, it could well be. If the train only stops for a short time it is best not to be standing at the wrong end of a veeeerrrry long train with possibly hundreds between you and your carriage.
Looking along Arambol Beach from the northern headland
 
The train was running behind schedule by the time it reached Thivim in northern Goa. Instead of arriving during daylight hours, it was early evening and getting dark quickly. An hour by taxi and we arrived in Arambol, one of the northern most beaches. I prefer to be settled into accommodation before the sun sets. It is always hard to find accommodation in the dark and, at night, Arambol’s main street is poorly little with dark, dirt roads leading off like spider legs through the jungle to the various accommodations. I had the name of a place, not recommended by anyone but quickly gleaned from another traveller’s Rough Guide before we got off the train. When we eventually found it they had a room available so that is where we stopped – it had been a long day.
Our room was a single standing bamboo hut, hidden from the beach by a sand dune but within a stone’s throw of the water. The huts were very cute, in pleasant grounds and with a very relaxing restaurant. Unfortunately the huts were also in the sand with grass matting on the floor and, although this gives a chilled and laid back ambiance, it also provides a breeding ground for fleas. This is further aggravated by the presence of dogs, which there were. The off shot of all this was that over the next three days Neil was bitten numerous times. For once the little critters gave me a wide berth.
The view from our verandah
 Our room - decorated Rajasthani tent style
 The restaurant - a beautiful place to relax
 
The chilled, relaxed village of Arambol is at the northern end of a long stretch of beach. It has a pretty rocky headland beyond which lay several small bays. The main road of the village winds off the northern section of the beach and is lined with the usual tourist facilities - plenty of shops to explore if Arambol is the first or only stop in India, the same old, same old if you have been travelling in the country for a while.
The rocky headland

 One of the small bays to the north
Vagator
From Arambol it was a short hop down the coast to Vagator. Our selected hotel was away from the coast but it was only a short 10 minute walk to the beaches and a selection of restaurants. It had a pool, which at first we thought was a bonus, but in hindsight perhaps contributed to the bad infection that developed in Neil’s flea bites. The water was cloudier than it should have been which we thought was due to the high levels of chlorine in the water – now we are not too sure. The hotel also had a few guests whose behaviour was less than savoury and left me feeling uncomfortable in their presence.
Looking down towards Ozron Beach,
southern end of Little Vagator
 You have to love a country where the cows are willing to share their beach with humans!
 
 
 Northern end of Vagator Beach
 Looking down from Chapora Fort at Vagator,
Little Vagator and Ozron Beaches
 Around the rocks from Vagator Beach
"Let me help you spend your money, sir"

All whinging aside, the small beaches of Vagator, the headland and the nearby river village of Chapora are very picturesque. Although I’m sure there are many good restaurants in the area, we discovered Thalassa, perched on the cliff top above Little Vagator on our first night, fell in love with their cuisine and became regulars over the next few days. 
Thalassa Restaurant
 
Chapora Fort
 
 The river at Chapora - next village north of Vagator
Small Chapel in backstreets of Vagator
 - another reminder of their Portuguese past
 
Sinquerim/ Fort Aguada
Another small hop took us past Vagator and Anjuna to Sinquerim Beach/ Fort Aguada. As rest and body revival were essential for Neil to heal his infections and take away the pain of it all, we opted for a resort on the beach with a beautiful CLEAN pool, and a pristine room. It was a bit middle age touristy for us (yes, I know. We are middle aged but we are not tourists – we are ‘travellers’!!), but, it was a good spot to recuperate and get all cylinders back in top working order.


 
And to get that body in working order I dragged Neil on a long afternoon stroll in the heat up a cliff and across to Fort Aguada for a bit of sight-seeing. Had I realised how sore his leg was from the swelling I would not have been so heartless but we both enjoyed the walk and the views. Despite advice to the contrary from a taxi driver who wanted to take us the long road way, there had not been a landslide and we were able to walk along the cliffs! (Don’t worry – Neil survived and I didn’t insist on any more long walks until we needed to find an ATM that was only ‘10 minutes’ away).
 The Upper Fort - Aguada

 The old lighthouse inside the upper fort

 Lower Fort or Harbour Fort at the foot of the headland, built to protect the Portuguese ships 
 Dinner and fine music at 'The Stone House'
 
While staying in Sinquerim we visited Old Goa, the once Portuguese capital of the area. The handful of beautiful cathedrals and churches are the only remains of a city that was larger than either London or Lisbon at the time and supposedly rivalled Lisbon in magnificence. The Inquisition and the black plague spelt the eventual demise of the city. Evidence of the houses and walls of the city can still be seen in the jungles around the area but they are little more than mounds of rubble.
Church of St. Francis of Assisi on the left
and Se Cathedral of Santa Catarina right

Church of St. Francis of Assisi


 
Se Cathedral of Santa Catarina


 A beautiful chapel inside the cathedral


 
 The Viceroy's Arch
 Church of Saint Cajetao





 Bascilica of Bom Jesus
 The mortal remains of Saint Francis Xavier
 Church of Our Lady, Panjim
 
Palolem
Our final stay in Goa was a leap from the lower north coast to the far south to the beautiful beach village of Palolem
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
We found a perfectly positioned hut in this paradise mid way along the curve of the beach, right on the sand no more than a 50 metre stroll to the water.
'Holy Cow' Huts run By Camp San Francisco. Our little home away from home was the stained wood hut on the left of the two in the middle of the photo.
Our hut, middle front
 Views from our veranda
- mid morning looking out to the island
 - perfect sunsets everyday
 -night lights looking towards the northern end of the beach


 
And life in paradise was difficult – sun filled days of swimming, relaxing, strolling along the golden sands, sunset drinks at a gorgeous little bar in the perfect sunset spot and delicious evening meals of freshly caught seafood. Yes, it was hard but someone had to do it!
 
 
The destination of our afternoon strolls - The Sunset Bar
 'Barry The Tiger' (AKA Neil) enjoying his tonic water

 
 
 Joseph about to prepare our delicious Goan squid!
 
 GOAN SQUID!!!! Mmmmmmm!!!!!
 
 
We both fell in love with Goa. If the world is stressing you out and you feel the need for palm fringed beaches, soft sand between your toes, warm tropical waters and a relaxing sunset drink - there is no better place to be.