got rupe?

As one is often accutely aware of what has gone before, been seen, said, felt, heard, it feels like a bit of a backward step, or a let down, when i sit to write and the well seems dry. As i dip into the stream of recent thoughts, sights and memories, philosophical insights refuse to bubble up - no graceful sentences glistening with poetic melody. Instead, i fear that this visit to the "blog" will serve simply as a mundane sort of documentary, detailing the highlights of recent personal history. Ah well. In the words of one who swam in the Arabian sea with ecstatic tears streaming down his face: "Ten thousand beautiful words and all i could come up with was 'grapwagurgle blah glurg!'"

Several days ago - perhaps a week? I wrote about being alone and on my way south. I was in Kannur, birthplace to my great great grandmother and home to the Theyyam spirit dancers. Since then i have enjoyed a series of unplanned adventures, starting with my visit to a temple to witness a Theyyam performance, presceded by a demo of south Indian martial arts. Theyyam was not exactly what i had expected - It was incredibly atmospheric; with repetitive builds in the live percussion and maniacal whirling on behalf of the human characters. The "gods", however, seemed to be merely ornamental in their presence; sitting or standing still as the human dancers appealed to them in wild thrashing simulations of battle and violence. As with most human - god interactions, the mortals do all the sweating as the gods look on in dumb bemusement, occasionally adjusting their extravagant costumes and make-up.

Satisfied that one night was enough in filthy crazy Kannur, i jumped on an early train to Kochin - a tiny but incredibly affluent port town about 260kms further south. Travelling in general class is the best way to meet locals in this country. I would do better to talk about this in regard to my latest marathon effort, so it'll have to wait. Kochin was one of those places in time that i feel i should have a tonne to say about, and yet those delicate sentences defy me. Suffice to say, Kochin is a very beautiful place, and it would appear that i was not the first to notice it. Indeed, it has been a focal point for foreign invasion, investment and high roller tourism for a long time. The winding streets would not look out of place, i would imagine, in some parts of pre-world war Europe. Gorgeous old houses and Dutch architecture makes it easy to forget one is in India. Huge trees dominate the cobble stone streets with their dark thickness, while the vastness of the Arabian sea provides a timeless atmosphere. Off course, occasional voices keep the walker in touch with the wider social context - "Hello, you want mrijuana smoke?"
About a month ago i threw away my guide bookand have been travelling in response to feeling with the occasional selective guidance from others. Everybody goes on a boat tour of the Kerala backwaters, and Kochin is a popular spot to launch from. Discouraged by the cost of large boat cruises with a fleet of rich French tourists, i started asking the locals near the fishing dock. I found a couple of guys who seemed reasonably reliable, but changed my mind when they asked me if i needed them to organise a "friend" for me. No thank you water pimp. Red light canoes have never been my style. And so i wandered into the tourist information centre (i hated myself so much that minute) and was met with very friendly help booking a spot on a canoe that afternoon, and a seat for a Kathakali performance the following evening. Score!
And the canoe ride was perfectly nice. The Canadian girl, Romy, and i agreed it would have been much more exciting if we'd been able to row our own canoes, but the dude with the stick wasn't givin it up for nobody. The Kathakali was incredible - and the improvised music set that followed was sublime. I had a great time in Kerala, and wish i'd had longer to stay. But it isn't India down there. Its really bloody expensive for starters - my homestay was 400 rupees, which is about 300 more than i like paying. That said, it was pretty ritzy. As is all accommodation in Kochin. And the vast selection of cafes catering to the hordes of rich Westerners were reminiscent of places like the Rathdowne Street Foodstore. I felt like a traitor or something... and for a moment; just a moment... i actually thought about the idea of living there. Its a dirty thought, i know! But it was nice to escape the hassles, the constant honking horns and the poverty of the north. Which brings us up to where i am now: Delhi.

3066 kms over 50 hours on train 2167, the Nizamuddin express from Ernakulum. In those dark dirty moments when i was secretly enjoying the luxuries of India's deep south, i justified it to myself with the laborious journey ahead of me. I never did the Ghan, or any other mega distance train ride. The trip from Bhundi to Gokarna with Jas was around 60 hours... but it involved many different types of transport, and we had a long break in Mumbai, and we had each other. This time it was just me and the Indians. And it was pretty cool. I keep getting lucky with the people i sit next to. Ranjith was on his way to Delhi to meet another Ayurvedic doctor and then fly to the Czech republic to work in a medical clinic there. And the family sat beside us didn't speak any english but they were very generous and insistent with their food. Their pulao shat all over the Indian Rail Service's biryani.
And so now i am back in Delhi and my luck continues to flow with ease. In four hours i will board a train headed into Utteranchal - back to Rishikesh. Yes! Rishikesh, that patchouli stick wavin shanti shanti om ganesh dream catchin pranic downward dog hole i slagged off on a previous rant. But the season has shifted and the weather has turned. Rishikesh will be warm and peaceful. And it is a great place from which to jettison further adventures into the Himalayas. An adventure tour guide i met in Hampi told of some excellent rock climbing and mountaineering near Almora - only a short bus ride from the Kesh. And so i will go back there and dig those shanti cats one more time. Wish me luck. I hope i sleep on this train. I am buggered.