Day 37 - Poop

Our early morning alarm was ultimately unnecessary, since the full-height windows next to our bed woke me up at 6am. After a failed attempt at a sunrise slow-shutter and a black coffee we were onto our quest to find some elephants. Following the tried and tested zoological technique commonly referred to as "follow the poop", we ventured into the buffer zone of the Yala National Park. Despite spotting plenty of peacocks, assorted birds and even hearing a Hawk Eagle not far from us, there was no sign of our adorable tusked friends.

Upon returning to our hut for breakfast, Gamini revealed that he had stood by the river bank for a few hours the night before after hearing elephant noises, but was also unsuccessful in spotting any. In an age where tourists often demand guaranteed spontaneous experiences, I personally appreciate that this place strives to remain genuine and was therefore perfectly happy that the closest thing to an elephant we saw was a collection of fresh droppings. On our way back, we ran into a crowd of gem miners heading into the natural reserve - talking to our host the day before, we learned that it is an illegal activity that the villagers resort to out of sheer desperation, just so they can put bread on the table. The brief moments when we crossed paths gave us no reasons to believe otherwise, as every single one of them greeted us with a polite nod and a trademark Sri Lankan smile.

After a dip in the Kumbuk river outside our cabin we reluctantly packed up, said goodbye to Gamini and the rest of the KumbukRiver staff and got on the most comfortable Tuk Tuk in the World for a two-hour trip to Ella, our next destination. The trip was more pleasant than the one in an air conditioned car the day before, mostly as it provided us with a much better connection with our surroundings, where children walked home from school, women picked up tea leaves and a pair of young guys rode their motorcycle alongside us to ask if we were going to Ella and wanted to smoke some weed...

At first glance, Ella seems like a simpler version of Munnar, graced with lovely views of rolling hills and tea plantation but perhaps lacking the jaw-dropping magnitude we saw in Kerala. We succeeded in visiting a tea factory this time, being shown around by an adorable old man who very keenly explained to us the four items that define a cup of tea (flavour, quality, strength and colour!) and the processes that determine these properties. He also kept pointing out to the Dutch couple that joined us that they tend to like their tea weak, then asking us how we like our tea only to get two expressions that said "we like coffee..." in return. On our way out we were greeted by even more kind smiles from the ladies who were getting off work as the production was shutting down for the day and saw bags of freshly picked tea leaves coming in to be processed the following day. From this point on, Ana struggled to contain her excitement every time we saw a truck full of these bags on the road, at least until she started getting chased uphill by an army of adorable tiny puppies, definitely a much more valid reason to get excited.

Our day ended with a delicious dinner at a hut on the side of a mountain (my Coconut Roti and Dal Curry and my sister's Egg Kottu were delicious - no peanut butter shake this time though), where the waiter revealed that the Sinhala word for "shoe" is the Portuguese "sapato", which joins "armário" (closet) in the random list of words we left behind in our short time here. Tomorrow will be spent walking up and down hills, so we need our batteries fully charged to explore Ella like the crowd of hikers that seems to have taken over and blend in with the crowd of hikers that seem to have taken over this place...

Cheers,
J-Wowww

Dia 36 - Natureza

Talvez se lembrem do post sobre Nagpur, onde descrevi a cidade como a paragem menos memorável de toda a viagem. Sem querer pôr a carroça à frente dos bois, somos capazes de ter descoberto o oposto de Nagpur. Correndo o risco de soar a review do TripAdvisor, o KumbukRiver Eco Lodge foi a alternativa descoberta pela Ana ao Safari que tínhamos planeado na reserva natural de Yala (parcialmente fechada no mês de Setembro) e para já parece-me que saímos a ganhar com a troca.

Situado na margem do rio Kumbuk oposta à zona de transição da reserva de Yala, o complexo é composto por umas série de habitações únicas mas sempre inspiradas na interacção com a Natureza. Enquanto que nós estamos numa casa na árvore (temos literalmente dois troncos a atravessar-nos o quarto de cima a baixo) a atracção principal é a Elephant Villa, uma estrutura em forma do simpático mamífero trombudo que aloja até oito pessoas. Todas as diferentes habitações foram concebidas pelos fundadores e construídas por habitantes da vila vizinha, sem a ajuda de arquitectos ou engenheiros - uma informação transmitida com um certo orgulho.

O passeio pelo rio numa Paruwa (uma simples jangada usada pelos locais) permitiu-nos conhecer um pouco mais sobre a área e sobre Gamini, o nosso anfitrião. Após explicar que o projecto pretende reabilitar a região, bastante debilitada depois de trinta anos de guerra civil, contou-nos que muitos dos seus empregados perderam entes queridos às mãos dos rebeldes do LTTE, que na fase final da guerra atacaram um autocarro cheio de civis inocentes e ocuparam a reserva de Yala, disparando sobre quem encontrassem pelo caminho. Apesar de eventualmente expulsos pelo exército, a destruição deixada pelos rebeldes ainda se faz sentir nas aldeias vizinhas, razão pela qual Gamini apenas emprega mão-de-obra local e procura usar produtos cultivados nas margens do rio.

O passeio pelo rio Kumbuk foi um dos momentos mais relaxantes e incríveis da viagem até à data, tendo passado metade do tempo a olhar à minha volta e a outra metade a tirar fotografias... Tirando os pássaros e um par de habitantes da vila que tomavam banho no rio (segundo o Gamini, o mais limpo do Sri Lanka), estávamos basicamente sozinhos no meio da selva. Depois de pararmos em estruturas naturais engraçadas, desde árvores Kumbuk caídas ou inclinadas sobre o rio até baloiços naturais formados por lianas, atravessámos a ponte suspensa que dentro de poucas semanas servirá de ponto de partida para um slide até aos nossos aposentos, do outro lado do rio.

Amanhã de manhã sairemos cedo para um passeio pela zona de transição do parque natural, onde se tivermos sorte talvez vejamos elefantes. Segundo o Gamini, estes deslocam-se durante a noite até ao rio à procura de água, uma vez que partes da reserva se encontram em seca, e nos últimos meses têm frequentemente entrado no complexo e saído tranquilamente antes do sol nascer. Mesmo que não haja elefantes, se o passeio de amanhã for como o de hoje já valeu mais do que a pena termos vindo - e até o despertador às seis da manhã...

Beijos e abraços,
Ginete

Day 35 - Colonialism

Galle Fort is an adorable little place. Walking around its long streets full of clean white colonial buildings is nothing but a pleasure. Every little cafe, restaurant or shop makes you want to go in and check it out, every hotel makes you wonder what it would be like to stay there for a couple of nights. While there is not exactly a lot to see (All Saints' Church is nice and we were told the National Museum is worth a visit, but that is about it) this part of the city has an undeniable charm that is more than enough to justify a visit. This seems to be corroborated by the number of tourists around, although the fort itself and the small beaches outside of it were still quite popular with local families on a day out. Despite obviously being a touristy area (within the not very touristy context of the country) there was still clearly some real life happening around us, made evident by the hundreds of children leaving classes in their uniform and then going on to do sports in the afternoon, with the little ones playing tennis with rackets bigger than themselves being the highlight of my day.

A quick side trip to the Japanese Peace Pagoda and the nearby Jungle Beach revealed a more secluded side of Galle. The first is a beautiful Buddhist monument at the top of a hill across the bay from the fort, with the surrounding temples and scenic views making it an incredibly peaceful setting. At one point, I am pretty sure we were the only people there apart from the gentleman tasked with telling people not to take pictures inside the temple. From there we walked to the Jungle Beach, which as the name suggests took a bit of trekking through the woods to get to. Once we got there we were pretty happy we made the effort as the small stretch of sand is beautiful and the impressive number of beach shacks only add to its charm. Unfortunately we had to get back to Galle as our transport to Mirissa was waiting, but still had time to taste a delicious king coconut while waiting for our rickshaw.

Upon arriving in Mirissa, something unusual happened - the owner of our guest house greeted me with the words "Your address is in Milton Keynes! I have been in Milton Keynes!". Now this is the kind of reaction one would expect to get when coming from New York, Paris or London. Somehow, the gentleman happened to have lived in Leighton Buzzard (a name that always reminds me of Toy Story) in the nineties, and proceeded to show me pictures of him next to a random glass building in MK (there are a lot of them) and also at Silverstone, where he remembers watching Schumacher winning and Coulthard crashing in the rain.

With that bizarre moment out of the way, we headed to the beach, where a choppy high tide and grey skies did not exactly provide the ideal setting to appreciate its beauty, so after watching the sun set from the pier we headed to a roti house for some dinner. The local options on offer were roti (a sort of wrap) and kottu (the aforementioned sort of wrap chopped very loudly). Both were delicious but definitely overshadowed by the peanut butter milkshakes, which were so good I had to have two of them, just to make sure I did not imagine how good the first one was. It was not my imagination. It was that good.

Cheers,
J-Wowww

Dia 34 - Asseio

Um voo de uma hora num Airbus A330 é um conceito um tanto ou quanto bizarro, mas pelos vistos a Sri Lankan tem um excesso aviões grandes na sua frota. De qualquer maneira, o cansaço causado pela frenética Volta a Kerala em Suzuki Swift fez com que dormisse esses sessenta minutos inteiros, mais os quarenta e cinco até à estação onde apanharíamos o comboio para Galle daí a umas horas.

A estação de Maradana foi uma apta introdução ao Sri Lanka, deixando-nos as primeiras impressões de um país tranquilo, asseado e com um inegável charme colonial, com pessoas igualmente calmas, educadas e prestáveis. Apesar das aparências antiquadas, a estação estava limpa e bem cuidada, com os senhores que trabalhavam no escritório da gestão da estação a serem particularmente simpáticos quando eu precisei de uma tomada de electricidade para confirmar o óbito do meu pobre MacBook Air.

O comboio até Galle (que se diz "gole", como quem bebe água) teve a sua piada por seguir a costa e passar por praias e aldeias engraçadas, onde se viam crianças a brincar na linha do comboio (a do lado, não a nossa) e adultos a caminhar sobre a mesma ou simplesmente sentados a olhar para o mar. O comboio em si saiu cheio da estação de Colombo Fort (a segunda, a seguir a Maradana) e só conseguimos lugar por nos sentarmos meia hora antes da partida. Já a chuva continuou a perseguir-nos, mas felizmente ao chegarmos ao nosso destino o tempo era calmo e agradável.

Com pouco tempo para mais fomos directos para a praia de Unwatuna onde tivemos a sorte de apanhar um bonito pôr-do-sol, antes de uma enorme nuvem negra o esconder com uma ameaça de tempestade iminente que felizmente não se concretizou. Depois de um jantar de caris locais e de a Ana comprar uma mochila de pele de búfalo com desenhos de elefantes, com a qual se apaixonou a caminho do restaurante, voltámos finalmente ao hotel para umas altamente necessárias dez horas de sono. Se dúvidas existem sobre a necessidade destas horas de sono basta contar a história dos meus calções de banho novos - eram giros, cor-de-laranja e azuis, foram comprados antes de jantar, e depois do mesmo foram deixados esquecidos na loja onde a Ana comprou a tal mochila, para nunca mais os ver. Pois é. Preciso de dormir.

Beijos e abraços,
Ginete

Day 33 - Overwhelming

Our last day in India started with a jeep ride around the edges of the Preiyar natural reserve, where even though the only animals we spotted were five dark blobs at the top of a mountain very far away, the scenery just about made up for it. Our bodies did suffer pretty severely, as the vehicle's suspension was clearly tuned to Sport mode and threw us around rather violently even on supposedly paved roads. The last viewing point our driver stopped at happened to be next to a fuming landfill, where cows and crows (great name for a band, by the way) feasted themselves in waste while people climbed a small hill to get a view that looked remarkably like the previous view point, about five hundred metres away. The customary Kerala rain shower followed on the way back, which did not improve our friend's driving style, as I can attest that due to the lack of windscreen wipers (probably an expensive option on this Mahindra model) he might as well have driven with his eyes closed.

The drive to Trivandrum was long but not as challenging than the day before, as the rain, fog and high-beam-assisted darkness never happened to overlap with craters on the road, although at one point the fog was so severe other cars were pulling over out of fear of plunging into the unknown. Sissies.

This brings the Indian part of this trip to an end, and I cannot fault it for being dull. After one month in the country I have learned how to bargain semi-effectively, got scammed, got Delhi belly, fell off a scooter, bribed a policeman and made a few friends along the way. You will struggle to find anyone who will deny that India is a beautiful country - from the sensory overload and frenetic pace of the big cities to the jaw-dropping natural beauty of the countryside, there is so much to see and experience that even though I feel like I have been travelling for months, I would have happily stayed for a few more.

The people (yes, the 1.2 billion of them) are harder to summarise in one sentence. While it is undeniable that a lot of Indians are annoying while pestering you for services you do not require (from rickshaw rides to ankle bracelets) or outright trying to scam you, the truth is the other half are genuinely interested in helping you see the best side of their country. The skill, which I have not mastered in the slightest, is to assess which kind of person you are talking to. In any case, I have met people who are friendly, kind, funny and intense, with a joy of life that is hard to find. The best benchmark for that are the children, who are so overwhelmingly happy to see someone different, to get their picture taken or simply to find out where you are from that it only adds another element to their innate adorableness.

Sri Lanka is the next step, but these thirty three days in India will last as the most overwhelming trip I have ever been a part of. As well as glad for giving this country one third of these ninety-odd days, it has left me longing to come back for more, which can only be a good sign.

Cheers,
J-Wowww

P.S. - For those of you skipping the Portuguese posts (I have been told Google Translate does the trick!) my laptop has died on me after all. This means the posts will probably be shorter and have more mistakes, but most of all there will be no pictures until I can get it fixed or replaced, which will probably be in a few days when we get to Singapore. I will then spend a solid day editing pictures and add them to these dull and monochromatic posts!

Dia 32 - Odisseia

A viagem de Alleppey até Munnar não foi tão atribulada quando temia. É certo que demorou o seu tempo e que tive de aprender a arriscar a pele para ultrapassar rickshaws perdidos no meio das montanhas, mas quando o nosso Suzuki Swift não estava preso atrás de um autocarro até teve piada conduzi-lo pelas sinuosas estradas Keralianas (juro-vos que isto é uma palavra). Mal sabia eu o que nos esperava na segunda parte da odisseia de hoje, mas lá chegaremos.

À chegada a Munnar fomos recebidos, claro está, por uma valente carga de água. Abrigados numa padaria a beber Masala Chai, decidimos começar por visitar a fábrica de chá da Lockhart, que há cento e sessenta anos produz chá a partir de colheitas das plantações locais. Ao passarmos pela estrada que dá acesso à fábrica sem reparar que esta existia acabámos por nos perder na paisagem que nos rodeava, vendo-nos obrigados a parar várias vezes no caminho porque a vista era boa demais para ser ignorada.

Quando eventualmente chegámos à fábrica percebemos que esta se encontrava fechada devido ao festival de Onam, tendo de nos contentar com um passeio à volta da mesma e com o que eles chamavam "museu da plantação". Este último é a exposição mais bizarra que já presenciei, com objectos que nada têm a ver com a colheita de chá (como uma âncora ou uma máquina de Raios-X) e descrições que iam do absurdo (as que explicavam o que é um tijolo ou um telefone) ao febril (as que pareciam ter sido produzidas com uma versão experimental do Google Translate, há uma década). O ponto alto da visita à fábrica acabaram por ser as três chávenas de chá e as duas fatias de bolo de cenoura que ingerimos antes de seguir viagem.

O Echo Point é uma plataforma natural na margem do reservatório criado pela barragem de Mattupetty, a partir do qual (como o nome indica) nos é devolvido o que quer que gritemos na direcção das montanhas. Na verdade, este é apenas mais um exemplo da beleza natural absurda do estado de Kerala, desta vez em terrenos mais montanhosos cobertos por plantações de chá até perder de vista. Não estando propriamente ansioso por voltar, fico com a sensação de que vimos Munnar a duzentos à hora, e que ainda assim ainda ficou muito por ver.

A viagem de Munnar até Thekkady foi uma das experiências mais aterradoras que já passei ao volante de um veículo de quatro rodas. A combinação de chuva torrencial e nevoeiro cerrado com estradas semi-destruídas ("barely a road", como dizia a minha co-piloto) e condutores que se recusavam a desligar os máximos independentemente de terem alguém à frente ou no sentido contrário, fizeram com que este caminho de três horas parecesse durar três dias. Nos momentos em que todos os factores acima se combinavam garanto-vos que não via mais do que o capot do nosso carro, o que tornava o desafio de evitar colidir com um autocarro vindo no sentido contrário em todo um exercício de telepatia para o qual eu não estou habilitado por não ser um Mestre Jedi. Não sei ao certo como chegámos a Thekkady doridos e cansados mas vivos, mas creio que devo agradecimentos a meia dúzia de santos...

Beijos e abraços,

Ginete

P.S. - É oficial, o meu MacBook Air faleceu. Paz à sua alma. No que diz respeito a este blogue, isto significa que não publicarei fotografias esta semana (serão adicionadas assim que chegar a Singapura e connseguir resolver o problema) e que o standard de escrita e ortografia vai ser ainda mais fraquinho do que de costume. Se notarem algum erro, por pequeno que seja, por favor avisem, uma vez que provavelmente conseguem ler este texto melhor do que eu...

Day 31 - Backwaters

The 90-minute drive from Kochi to Alleppey was another step in my adaptation to Indian driving. Under the instructions of our Indian co-pilot (who only got us lost a handful of times) I learned that I “have to honk the horn” and “trust the motorcycle will avoid you”. The answer to the simple question of “what if they don’t?” seemed as irrelevant as my use of indicators, which resulted in a mocking “ha, you’re indicating, so cute!”. Maybe that is why these are on the wrong side of the steering wheel.

Alleppey is all about the backwaters, a series of canals that engulfs four islands and creates an incredibly serene and idyllic setting. As with the delta of the river Tigre near Buenos Aires, which I was lucky to visit a few years back, it is obvious that quite a few people still live along these canals and use them to get around. Despite being decidedly more touristy than the Tigre delta, with hundreds of houseboats travelling or parked along the main canals, there were still a few peaceful strips and there were many smaller paths left unexplored by our Shikara.

All in all, this was mainly an enjoyable relaxing experience, sometimes interrupted by a house boat filled with families or just friends playing “Despacito” out load or, in a stark contrast, glimpses of what the actual life in the backwaters is like - kids playing around in canoes (occasionally overtaking our engine-powered vessel), grown-ups taking their cow for a walk or old ladies washing their clothes on the canal waters. While very aware that we were probably mainly taken through the tourist route along the backwaters, it was still an interesting and certainly very chilled-out couple of hours. The initially strange story told by the owner of the guest house we stayed in, whereby a writer had stayed in a houseboat for a month and a half looking for peace and quiet, did sound quite a bit more plausible after this trip.

Tomorrow the plan is to drive to Munnar, check it out and then drive to Thekkady. Eight hours of driving through the mountains may be a slightly scary prospect, but I am sure my steep learning curve on Indian driving has prepared me for it. At least that is what I am telling myself.

Cheers,
João

P.S. - Apologies for the delay in publishing this post, but my laptop decided to scare the life out of me as I was writing my valediction by switching itself off and refusing to power up again. After a number of resets and twenty-four hours convinced that it was lost forever, it resurrected itself after one last desperate reset. I now have some photo editing to catch up on, but hopefully I will be back on track soon!