Coasting down to Mysore

Bit of an overlap with the writing and photos but can't be helped!!

Pune -Mysore - http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=173495&id=771224918&l=7ea4ff6d14

Only stayed in Palolem a couple of days as after 11 days on buses and trains I was heading towards a knicker crisis so just needed to get some washing done and have a bit of a chill. It's always a bit weird for me going back there as I first went in 1999 and as they say at Glastonbury "I remember when all this was fields" - every available space on the beach front now has huts. Still it's okay for a couple of days and having a beer without being stared at was a nice change though Goa and me don't always mix too well as it usually full of couples, families and the young and the beautiful.

For some strange reason I decided not to take the bus down to Gokarna - sweet talked by the guy at the guesthouse who said he would give me a lift up the train station on his motorbike and I can never turn down a lift on a motorbike - love 'em!! I ended up in second class unreserved which was okay for short journeys and really cheap (18P) - bit snug seat wise and the guys I was sat with just gorped at me as I tried to hoof my rucksack on to the overhead rack despite my ramblings that if they moved their legs a bit I might find it a bit easier and be less of a cabaret performance for the whole carriage. It was whilst on the train I realised why I had originally discounted the train - Gokarna train station is 9k's from the town - guaranteed potential for taking the mick re fares from the rickshaw drivers and I wasn't far wrong. I usually used the bench mark of 10 rupees per kilometre so I did quite well getting the driver down to 100r for the ride into town but I still think he was having a bit of a laugh!

Decided to stay in Gokarna town for one night and then head over to Kutle beach in the morning as I wasn't keen on walking the couple of k's on the cliffs and then finding no room at the inn as it was getting close to Christmas. Couldn't remember the name of the place I stayed at last time I was in town - not that it was a place you would especially search out (damp and a dodgy toilet I did remember) so I ended up at a place by the bus station which wasn't the cleanest and really noisy - woken at 6 in the morning by screaming kids and shouting adults - no appreciation that there were others staying at the hotel who maybe didn't want an early morning call.

It wasn't actually too hard to find a room on Kutle - 150 rupees (2 pound) for a bamboo hut with bed and electric - and it hadn't changed that much in the three years since my last visit. Few more huts and after walking over with my bag in the midday sun (the word crazy was mentioned by the workman I passed on the way) I found there was a road - maybe it was there last time and I never noticed. Still the place hadn't turned into a mini Goa though there was an alarming number of stoner Israeli's there and at times round my hut it felt like downtown Tel Aviv - first night I was kept awake by some really cool music (the plus side) and this really irritating New Zealander (the downside) who thought she was so cool (the word was mentioned quite a lot in conversation). Apparently she believed that in 2012 some great disaster would befall the world and just the "cool" people would survive - I found it a bit like those sandwich board people back home who all predict the end is nigh and that if you repent and you'll be saved, I think I'd rather be wiped out with the herd if the worlds going to be full of people like that - we're all different be a bit bloody boring if we weren't.

It was the problem I had with Kutle - being cool - now I know I've never been cool just done my own thing and sometimes things that I have done have become cool (generally then they are ruined a bit by the cool people - Glastonbury - a classic example). Christmas Day tried to talking to a few people but to be honest I think dog poo on the end of their shoe would have had a better reception - so much for the season of goodwill and I'm not a vindictive person but I hope one day those people end up on their own. The only person I did end up having a beer with was this Austrian guy who in the end only really wanted me to check out his mattress - which did get to me a bit as why do guys automatically assume that when you're on your own that you must be desperate for a shag (bit blunt I know but can't think of a better way of expressing the sentiments!!)

So I decided to leave head inland and visit Jog Falls - wasn't too easy to find info on the buses as the controller down the bus station was one of the rudest men I met in India - seemed like I had a cloak of invisibility on when I was talking to him. Ended up getting the nice guy in the bookshop to ring the bus station in Kumta for me to get the times as all the controller could say to me "there are many buses to Jog" which wasn't really the info I was after. That night how I giggled (okay I am a vindictive person) when the heavens opened and all the cool Israelis came hurtling off the beach at a rapid pace - I happened to be sat in the only dry place in the cafe for a while till even that succumbed to the torrential downpour so ended up in the kitchen and met two nice guys - Richard and Douglas who had just arrived that day. Douglas was from Edinburgh and Richard it turned out was from just up the road from me in Huddersfield and stranger still was 5 days older than me (don't met many people my age travelling). Found out it wasn't personal with the Israeli's - now I knew there was a pack mentality but apparently they elect a leader who then makes all the decisions and once in the pack they don't talk to anybody else - vary strange way to be!! It was a really nice night despite the storm and kinda of made up for the few crap days I'd had beforehand.

I was supposed to leave the next morning but unfortunately I'd left my washing out so not wanting to head off with wet clothes - my towel was borderline at the best of times decided to stay another day. Richard had got the worst of it as he was down in the new corral - it had been round his ankles when he got back - clothes and laptop ruined - the guys in the cafe thought it was funny but as I've found on occasions Indians do seem to laugh at the most inappropriate times - they once did it to me when I fell off my bike - hysterical they seem think it was. So I spent the day chilling and faffing which I am pretty good at before heading off the following day.

I had a bit of hassle getting money as all the ATM's were down so ended up changing 40USD at a silversmiths shop before finding the bus to Kumta. It was in Kumta that my problems started - all the signs were in Hindi so it was a case of asking the drivers where they were going - then the rain started - the controller then kept changing the time the bus to Jog came in, by this point a lot of the people in the station were giggling at me (another example of inappropriate laughter - but hey I suppose I was the cabaret). Some people though did try to help me - one guy kept telling me about this god "well can you say a prayer to him to help my find this bus then?" - didn't help much - another random kept telling me times when the bus would arrive and then these two sweet schoolgirls who tried to talk to the controller on my behalf were told to take me down the chemists shop to buy a ticket - that was the straw that broke the camels back - so I gave up and headed off to find a hotel to have a rethink. All buses to Bangalore were booked for days to come, train station all the trains left at stupid o'clock and I'd have to go unreserved eventually it dawned on me the only option was back to the bus station in the morning once more to do battle.

In the end I just decided to take any bus heading south whether it be Mangalore or Bangalore and luckily the bus pixies were smiling down on me so I ended up going to Mangalore. Wasn't too crowded as well though there was a heavy smell of fish in the air as we headed south - it was a great journey as the sun was just rising above the mountains in the distance as we passed by lush green paddy fields and over wide rivers. Liked Mangalore as it was totally non tourist so no hassle at the bus station and easily found a room at a posh gaffe - it's not often I can afford places where the door is opened for me by a bloke in a turban - but I ended up with a nice room on the fourth floor at the Pooja International for just over a tenner.

Next stop was Mysore - didn't get down the bus station as early as I should have the next day as the bed was so comfy after 10 days of sleeping on crap mattresses - still Mangalore bus station was a piece of cake compared to Kumta. In fact two Mysore buses turned up at the same time so I went for the local one as there wasn't much difference allegedly in the times they arrived. It was once more a lovely ride through the Coorg region (Dervla Murphy wrote about spending some time there in the early 70's with her daughter) - though it was a really slow journey, the bus just crawled up the hills past rubber plantations really disappointed that I didn't see any Coorgi's along the way - they are supposed to be another remnant of Alexander the Greats army very fair skinned and quite different to other people in Southern India.

The roads seemed to get better the nearer we got to Mysore (poss cos it's close to Bangalore) so much so that the driver who I don't think could see too well managed to do a few Dukes of Hazards over speed bumps much to annoyance of the people at the back of the bus - was a bit terrifying at times as by this time it had started to rain. Strange New Years as I spent most of it wandering round Mysore looking for a room - ended up at Mannars Lodge (re my book "decidedly popular with backpackers" which translated means they'll take any old shit) the bloke was a bit stroppy with me when I asked why I had to pay more for the room than it was and then have my photo taken "Do you want to stay here or not?" was his reply. Quick shufty over to beer shop which I was removed from for my own safety by the security guard - ended up shouting through a hole in the wall not realising (or caring) that Mannars had a no alcohol policy. The problem with Indian cities at night is they are just full of drunken Indian men - so ended up watching the New Years festivities on TV - interestingly all the woman reporters were tucked up in night clubs whilst the men were out on the streets surrounded by drunken Indian men saying "hello mum".

Changed hotels in the morning - another photo and paying more for the room (is Mysore a hot bed of Al Qaeda action I wondered?) but it was a far nicer place and just across the road from Manners. The main attraction of Mysore is the market and the Maharajas palace - both of which I managed to get round to seeing. The Maharajas palace looks really impressive from the outside but was a bit of a pantomime re the shoes and camera rules - managed to bribe the ticket man to let me take my camera in for 10r but what about the guys with ones on their phones I thought. It was really well preserved inside with paintings and the most amazing stained glass - the only downside was it was heaving with Indian tourist groups. Bumped into Daniel from the rafting trip in Nepal - he was doing a yoga course in Mysore and I was a bit green when he told me that his room had a cooker and a fridge - it's the not being able to cook your own food that I miss. Found a great dhaba next to the hotel but I was by this time a bit on my craving for Western food once again - there is only so much channa dhal you can take!!

That's it for the mo - more hopefully next week - can't believe I've done that in one session off now for a beer and some noodles ( not alot of choice for me here in Penang - alternate nights veg noodles/veg rice - would kill for a plate of egg and chip at this moment in time!!)