How international we are

So in my block of six berths on my overnight train heading north, we all emerge sleepy eyed from under our Indian Railways sheets. Suddenly there’s 9 of us sitting side by side and opposite and we get chatting and sharing snacks, the fabulous social element to train travel. The retired couple next to me are from Tamil Nadu, now living in Bangalore, and have been visiting family for Christmas.  They have two sons, one working in Germany and the other in Taiwan. And the couple on the aisle seats with a small son once lived in Plymouth working for the council and lastly the retired math teachers son is working in Kings College hospital in London.  How international we are! 

Waiting to hear if my train ticket will be confirmed

It’s peak travel season here and everyone is on the move. Even when I booked this ticket in early November it was not confirmed so I was on waitlist.  And I had to be on this train on the 27th to travel overnight to Mysore, so I was so relieved to see the ticket confirmed late afternoon of my travel, but I’ve boarded trains before still on waitlist and there’s always a way to make it work.

The only time I feel slightly anxious is making sure I’m on the right platform and then to stand by the right carriage. In London you can always tell the savvy commuters, who know where to stand to be at the carriage doors. Here the trains are giant beats, perhaps 20 carriages long and believe me I’ve only done it once where I’ve had to traverse every carriage with a rucksack, managing to bump into every protruding foot of the slumbering passengers. So I normally head straight to the station masters office to get the info, then wait in the ladies waiting room, and then find a friendly family! I hit the jackpot, and found a family who were in the same carriage as me, so we waited together until the delayed train thundered into the station at 10.15pm.  The husband questioned my solo travel, asking “you have no one to help you?” I’m not sure he realises but he’s part of my helpful gang! 

I’ll take you there for free

In all the major tourist spots there’s always a few large tourist shops, peddled as Government sanctioned, where the auto rickshaw want to take you, in addition to your requested destination as they get petrol coupons and a commission on whatever overpriced item you buy. Interesting these emporiums are mostly run by Kashmiris with smooth patter and a hot chai! Consequently you’re often held slightly by ransom and persuaded to visit, but it’s a bit of fun to feign interest in a carpet or shawl, sup a chai and help out the drivers and I’m in no hurry! Hence the auto rickshaw cry of “I’ll take you there for free”!

Christmas in Kochi

It was the Portuguese who were the first Europeans to take and settle in Kochi, then came the Dutch. But there’s also Chinese influences, with the beautiful Chinese fishing nets on the shore line. The island is full of churches, so there were plenty of choice for my midnight mass destination. In the end I went to the nearest one, remembering a rather unexpected traumatic post mass inability to get back to the hotel last year on my last Indian travels, as the streets were patrolled by barking territorial dogs, who were not welcoming to strangers walking on their patch. In the end we had to ask for a lift back to the hotel from fellow worshippers. This time Santa Cruz Church was 5 mins away and the service and went ok and I got back to my room without a hitch!    

You eat like an Indian

One big challenge is to eat without cutlery, and I’m not talking about a challenging sandwich, I’m talking about a biryani or a dosa! As I mostly eat in more local restaurants it’s hands only and I’m up for the challenge. And today, I bought some fish and prawns from the local market and took them to a restaurant to be cooked. Absolutely delicious, and I devoured them, receiving a complement from a near by diner “you eat like an Indian”.

The cooking charge is 200 rupees

After a long bus journey descending the Western Ghats, and then eventual gridlock traffic I arrived at Kochi within 6 hours. I was last here over 20 years ago, exploring Kerela was my second trip to India, the first being an incredible whistle stop tour of Rajasthan. I headed out of my lovely old guest house to the old Chinese fishing nets, a few streets away.  Here by the shore line fish stalls fill the side of the street and you can choose what you like and then head to a near by restaurant overlooking the sea, where they prepare and cook your fish for you. I’ve now moved from one side of India to another and it’s great to see water again! 

Madam you cannot leave

I alternate between paying for or withdrawing cash between my credit card and my travelex cash card. To pay my hotel bill in Munnar it was the turn of the cash card. I popped in my PIN number and the machine didn’t issue a receipt, it just ran out of battery. I popped to an atm to check the balance, and was sure that it has gone through, and then just headed to bed saying to the manager that I’d check in the morning, as he was panicking as the money was not in his bank! 

So by morning the transaction was still pending, according to my  travelex app and I was told that I couldn’t leave Munnar until it had gone through!!!  We tried ringing travelex to no avail, as the manager ran out of credit on his phone, so we headed in to the town bank for a quick meeting with the bank manager. Luckily sense prevailed and he reassured them that it would go through within 24hours and I was duly waved off at the bus station with smiles and relief!

The choir outnumbered the congregation

Just to get a bit more festive I headed to the oldest church in Munnar, established by the Scottish Presbyterian who settled here to set up the tea plantations. As I walked through town the church bellowed our the melody of Silent night, and as I got to the top of the hill to get into the church, slightly out of breath, the vicar got out of the back of the car, aided by a helper. He greeted me and when he went to shake my hand, I realised he was blind. As this was the third service on this Sunday and the only one in English, the choir of three and the organist plus two priests outnumbered the congregation.

And the baby cried

Just as I am fascinated by people, it definitely works the other way. I’m often asked to be in impromptu group photos, and sometimes offered a baby to hold. This invariably just goes one way, the baby is so scared of this large white foreigner that it immediately bursts into tears. Not perturbed the mother still clutches the infant for this strange photo.