Udipi (Karnataka), February 19
Ski Express to Bombay
Well, I have two weeks to catch my plane back to Bombay, two thousand miles away . He will not have to hang in Madurai, although goats are cute.
To begin, I must abandon my Enfield. The mechanic from Goa who rented it to me and committed to funding the repairs concerned about new spending in anticipation. It is my intention to repatriate by train from Madurai and send me another. As I have no time to wait, I resign myself to abandon my status biker and return to the joys of public transport. When I confided to the great railroad, all swaddled in his burlap, I must say it makes me something.
It peels in Kodaikanal
Instead of going as everyone by the Kerala coast, a classic southern India with the beach of Varkala, boats / houses the estuary of Kollam and the old Portuguese city of Cochin, I try to play the original through the mountains. First step, the station of Kodaikanal is famous for its hippies and mushrooms. The hairy had to steer with the harvest, because I do not see anything like that. By cons, visiting the main attractions in a minibus for Indian tourists with the official photos of couples embracing in front of the lake, the church, the pine forest and waterfall, that I did not miss a beat.
Since I'm holding the camera, I encourage them to roll shovels to make them blush, but hey it's not enough to fill your day even if there is anyway some monkeys make me laugh.
In addition, this is not the right season and at night it is freezing cold. I get on the first night bus towards Bandipur National Park. The scam
Jungle Book
A friend had certified that she had found in this national park atmosphere of the Jungle Book. It is seen, promised juror, an elephant taking a shower with a boy sitting astride his back. Me, I find the same minibus Indian tourists off for a shabby 45-minute safari in the bush, to strafe the deer and monkeys who look to spend their daily walk-assholes. As for the Tigers promised on the brochure, they are stashed in the company of panthers and bears, not a hair can be seen outside ferns. There are a few elephants, but they expect that they withdraw their channels to be climbing over by tourists. I fled the field to Mysore.
Maharajah
I just wanted to avoid large cities, but this is my path, and finally the chaotic streets of the center I like well. By cons, visiting the famous palaces of Maharajas, rebuilt in the early twentieth century in an improbable blend of art deco architecture and local perplexing.
The parade by Udipi Udipi
I can link, on the coast of Karnataka. The city is not unique, but I found the atmosphere with delight collected from the temple, where musicians accompany the puja with their tables and trumpets. Upon leaving, I discovered a crowd gathered around a body of water on a boat which sails lit controlled by Brahmins in full livery. In the aftermath, two illuminated towers mounted on wheels are emerging, driven by the people excited, and a fireworks display is shot in the general hysteria!
Postcard Kapu
I make a turn Kapu, a small deserted beach nearby, which again would make a perfect picture postcard. I meet Tamil fishermen came for the fish that now lack home. They invite me to share their lunch without asking me a penny. As they are interested by my computer, I show them my photos of Tamil Nadu, Devendra Banhart them listen and discover the visual Itunes, they love it. I too am very happy with my day. The next day, towards Mumbai via Goa.
Bombay (Maharashtra), February 23
City of contrasts
The first thing that strikes me in this huge city of sixteen million inhabitants, it smells of sewage while crossing the slums. The residents must be used by cons for the visitor is really terrible. But on reaching the historic center, the neighborhood Kolaba, total change of atmosphere. There are Victorian buildings and Benetton shops everywhere, the streets are almost clean, the rickshaws have given way to cars and Indians in Western costume pat on laptops in cafés. It's always India, there are a few shops of tailors and shoemakers, but in a very westernized.
Here, a photographer photographed at The Gate of India.
And here the perspective Chapati Beach front.
Couchsurfing
The editor of a magazine told me that he might be interested in a paper on Couchsurfing, a dating site that allows visitors to receive the offer of his city and, conversely, to be hosted free of charge at people or at least have a drink with them. That seems more a good way to meet the Indians. I had already attempted to Pondicherry, but received no response. It must be said that the cards have guys who offered their couch suggested they sought rather to to foreigners in their beds, so I was not in the target. This time, I send a dozen emails, a good half of women. Well, I get a seven or eight positive responses, mostly from them! A lack of accommodation, they offer me a drink, but it's something. I begin with Piya, a lawyer, who requested the phone to tell me precisely because "you, Westerners, you look like you all! The atmosphere of the Café Leopold, where she gave me appointments, reminds me of a bar mentioned in Shantaram, a bestseller telling the story of a gangster who moved to Australia in Bombay. Indeed, the action takes place in part here, "she confirms, adding that thugs are probably doing their business quietly before our eyes.
The second night, again through CouchSurfing, I met Nelson, who makes electronic music with Indian color (I have not contacted by chance). We spend the night in a bar and a terrace building with his friends, two video editors and advertising. In the television campaign that he just finished it tries to convince the housewife that if she uses her washing, she will always be fresh for work, the underlying idea being to promise emancipation. It's fun to talk to one of the leaders of these campaigns ultra simplistic shape emerging consumer society of the country, as happened in France in the postwar period. All the Indians here this evening consider English as their mother tongue. I find it a bit creepy to see them and cut their roots, particularly as their accent is so strong that I wonder if they are very credible English as with British or Americans. The next day, I spend my last night in a bar with a pretty American rock writer of advertising neckline surprisingly open, with her friends businessmen and professionals. For a bit, I think myself in a Hard Rock Cafe beautiful neighborhoods in Paris or London. The concept of CouchSurfing is excellent, but in a developing country it obviously gives access to only the most privileged fringe of the population.
The time to go
My stay in Bombay only lasted three days, but he provided an overview of the city promising. I like contrasts well and I think I gladly spend a whole year. There should be a way to immerse themselves in India while working and from time to time, an excursion to Hampi, Goa or in the upstate who, apparently, worth a detour. While my plane about to take off, I already feel homesick mount. I adopted the local nod, finally I came to eat the right hand and I had even started driving as carelessly as the Indians, that's how I built. Their simplicity, their smile, their kindness and exuberance I will miss.
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