Bangalore is great. Like Mumbai, it feels more cosmopolitan and it's considerably more expensive than other places we've stayed. I spend more in a day here than a week of living in Hampi.
I feel relaxed and comfortable here, despite the big city feel of the place and the ubiquitous traffic. It's partly the familiarity - we're based near the Residency Rd, MG Rd, Brigade Rd triangle - but there are other factors too. Nobody tries to sell me anything. Hardly anyone stares at us. I feel less conspicuous and more at home.
We also indulge in a few home comforts... actually, a lot of home comforts. It's Alice's birthday week and we stay in a nice hotel, called Justa, and near the prestigious Oberoi hotel on MG Road, on the way to Trinity Circle. Compared to some other places we've stayed, it's a palace: the room is plush and comfortable; the shower and bathroom defy description at present; the staff are lovely and eager to help; it's a genuine pleasure.
On the first day, we go to Nandos for lunch and then watch Prometheus at the Garuda Mall cinema. We could almost be back home, on a movie and chicken filled Sunday at the Cabot Circus.
As with my life in general, most of our activities revolve around food. I eat wonderful fish curry at The Karavalli. We visit The Only Place on Museum Road and (sorry to any Hindu readers), I have chateaubriand! I wash down Chicken 65 with Kingfisher at Downtown, the first place I ever tasted it - where the love affair began. If I wasn't burning through cash so fast, I stay for a month. I find a place that sells imported food and pick up some cheddar cheese, salami and chorizo to have for breakfast on Alice's birthday.
On the second day, we head to Bangalore City Junction to buy our train ticket to Alleppey in Kerala. There is no tourist quota here to cater for disorganised Westerners buying tickets only a few days in advance, so we buy ours and go into a general waiting list at number 36. This is pretty common in India. The railway network is vast, complex and in huge demand. It seems that people book and then cancel their train journeys quite often. We've been on waiting lists before and always managed to get on a train.
However, as the days go by we gain only a few places on the list and then stall. On our last morning, we haven't budged an inch and only have a few only a few hours to go before departure. The impotence and uncertainty combined drive me crazy - we have to just wait. I drive Alice crazy. And so, an hour or so before the the train is due to leave we go to the station and check our place on the waiting list.
We're not getting on the train.
There's one of Bangalore's major bus terminals across the road from the train station. We go under the busy road using a subway and wander into the booking office. Dodging buses is old hat by now. The helpful bus ticket man tells us that there is one bus to Cochin at 7:45pm, with only 5 seats left. We need to cross the road to another bus terminal and then catch a bus to a third to get on our sleeper coach. This we manage without incident.
Our coach is pretty good, AC, reclining seats. It's not a train with sleeper berths though. I manage a kind of semi-comatose state but no sleep. The bus ride takes about 15 hours. The bus stops twice during this period. The first at a rest stop, the secon - lights go on, the conductor screams at the top of his lungs, and people shuffle to the side of the road in the rain for a piss.
Eventually it gets light and we arrive at Cochin bus station just after six in the morning. It's not like the other stations we've been in. It is utter chaos: buses are reversing, swinging, getting stuck; certain individuals are directing different drivers at cross purposes. Soon the pandemonium subsides and it becomes apparent that this happens only once a day as the buses parked overnight all leave the station at once.
Nobody is shouting out destinations. The bus boards appear to be in Mayalayam, the local language, or if they are in Hindi, they're written in a completely unfamiliar way. I can't even match what's written on the platforms to what's written on the buses. We wait hopefully at platform 4 whilst bus after bus zooms past, people jumping on and off. A helpful soul eventually asks where we're going and gets us on the right bus.
When I board the bus, there are only a couple of seats available. I take both of our packs and squeeze onto one seat with a white-haired man. After a couple more stops, another man squeezes in on my other side. After a few more stops, the bus is so crowded I can no longer see daylight.
Both of my neighbours simultaneously fall asleep on me. I have not slept for 20 hours.
Eventually, after about an hour, I hear Alice shouting that we should get off. We push and squeeze, eventually expelled from the bus with a sweaty plop.
We catch a rickshaw to the station, buy our next train ticket and then travel the 15km out of Alleppey to our homestay. It is situated on an island and we have to take a small canoe to reach it.
We are met on the opposite bank by Thomas, one of our hosts. I am very grateful to see him. He tells me I look tired.
I feel relaxed and comfortable here, despite the big city feel of the place and the ubiquitous traffic. It's partly the familiarity - we're based near the Residency Rd, MG Rd, Brigade Rd triangle - but there are other factors too. Nobody tries to sell me anything. Hardly anyone stares at us. I feel less conspicuous and more at home.
We also indulge in a few home comforts... actually, a lot of home comforts. It's Alice's birthday week and we stay in a nice hotel, called Justa, and near the prestigious Oberoi hotel on MG Road, on the way to Trinity Circle. Compared to some other places we've stayed, it's a palace: the room is plush and comfortable; the shower and bathroom defy description at present; the staff are lovely and eager to help; it's a genuine pleasure.
On the first day, we go to Nandos for lunch and then watch Prometheus at the Garuda Mall cinema. We could almost be back home, on a movie and chicken filled Sunday at the Cabot Circus.
As with my life in general, most of our activities revolve around food. I eat wonderful fish curry at The Karavalli. We visit The Only Place on Museum Road and (sorry to any Hindu readers), I have chateaubriand! I wash down Chicken 65 with Kingfisher at Downtown, the first place I ever tasted it - where the love affair began. If I wasn't burning through cash so fast, I stay for a month. I find a place that sells imported food and pick up some cheddar cheese, salami and chorizo to have for breakfast on Alice's birthday.
On the second day, we head to Bangalore City Junction to buy our train ticket to Alleppey in Kerala. There is no tourist quota here to cater for disorganised Westerners buying tickets only a few days in advance, so we buy ours and go into a general waiting list at number 36. This is pretty common in India. The railway network is vast, complex and in huge demand. It seems that people book and then cancel their train journeys quite often. We've been on waiting lists before and always managed to get on a train.
However, as the days go by we gain only a few places on the list and then stall. On our last morning, we haven't budged an inch and only have a few only a few hours to go before departure. The impotence and uncertainty combined drive me crazy - we have to just wait. I drive Alice crazy. And so, an hour or so before the the train is due to leave we go to the station and check our place on the waiting list.
We're not getting on the train.
There's one of Bangalore's major bus terminals across the road from the train station. We go under the busy road using a subway and wander into the booking office. Dodging buses is old hat by now. The helpful bus ticket man tells us that there is one bus to Cochin at 7:45pm, with only 5 seats left. We need to cross the road to another bus terminal and then catch a bus to a third to get on our sleeper coach. This we manage without incident.
Our coach is pretty good, AC, reclining seats. It's not a train with sleeper berths though. I manage a kind of semi-comatose state but no sleep. The bus ride takes about 15 hours. The bus stops twice during this period. The first at a rest stop, the secon - lights go on, the conductor screams at the top of his lungs, and people shuffle to the side of the road in the rain for a piss.
Eventually it gets light and we arrive at Cochin bus station just after six in the morning. It's not like the other stations we've been in. It is utter chaos: buses are reversing, swinging, getting stuck; certain individuals are directing different drivers at cross purposes. Soon the pandemonium subsides and it becomes apparent that this happens only once a day as the buses parked overnight all leave the station at once.
Nobody is shouting out destinations. The bus boards appear to be in Mayalayam, the local language, or if they are in Hindi, they're written in a completely unfamiliar way. I can't even match what's written on the platforms to what's written on the buses. We wait hopefully at platform 4 whilst bus after bus zooms past, people jumping on and off. A helpful soul eventually asks where we're going and gets us on the right bus.
When I board the bus, there are only a couple of seats available. I take both of our packs and squeeze onto one seat with a white-haired man. After a couple more stops, another man squeezes in on my other side. After a few more stops, the bus is so crowded I can no longer see daylight.
Both of my neighbours simultaneously fall asleep on me. I have not slept for 20 hours.
Eventually, after about an hour, I hear Alice shouting that we should get off. We push and squeeze, eventually expelled from the bus with a sweaty plop.
We catch a rickshaw to the station, buy our next train ticket and then travel the 15km out of Alleppey to our homestay. It is situated on an island and we have to take a small canoe to reach it.
We are met on the opposite bank by Thomas, one of our hosts. I am very grateful to see him. He tells me I look tired.
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