mountains with a runny nose

For better or worse we prefer driving the minor roads through small villages and farmland, avoiding the highways when possible. Often these roads are in shocking condition and none of them are on our maps, but potholes and asking directions is all part of it. Whether its small coastal fishing communities or mountainous villages, it is great to stop and see a bit of village life: drying crops on the roads, lying around sleeping, industrious cultivation of fields and paddies, or the bright flags and flowers of celebrations. Even if a woman has half a tonne of wood on her head or a man is breaking rocks in the heat, a friendly greeting is always returned with a genuine big white smile. Learning the basics of the state's language has been well worth it, often people literally laugh out loud in suprise when you come out with a bit of Tamil!
In the areas we travel without established tourism we have always found people to be friendly and genuinely interested in us and the landcruiser, rather than our rupees. Unfortunately many tourists seem to be ignorant of the value of their money outside of their own country, and their well-meaning but irresponsible handouts just make the situation worse. So this is the real benefit of having our own vehicle - few tourists would be able to take these routes, and the less tourists the better!

To most Indians however, it is incomprehensible logisticaly and financially that we would take a minor route rather than the highway, so getting directions is often not so straight-forward. It took a few asks before we got even an admission that minor roads exist for the route we wanted to take to Fort Kochi. Once we were on the way we were glad we persisted with our directions off the highway as the drive through the waterways was beautiful, even though I was feeling sick as an indian dog with my cold and ear infection. We found a very nice colonial hotel with walled garden who let us camp and use their dodgy staff squatter for 100 rupee a night. We stayed two nights as i was quite ill, so i rested reading while amelia brought me back chappatti and chenna masala, and the crows dropped seafood scraps like fishheads and crabshells out of the palm trees all around me. Bizarrely the hotel gave us our money back when we left.



Driving towards Munnar we stopped at our first 'Toddy bar', where drunk friendly old men serve alcoholic fermented sap from coconut palms, similar to the palm wine in Africa. Arriving at Munnar, a hill station town built around tea plantations high in the mountains, there was not a lot in the way of camping opportunities so we ended up stayed in a very nice 100 yr old hotel with character. We had dinner that night at a street stall. It was jumper weather, not really cold, but all the indian tourists were walking round in woolly hats, big tiger-stripe earmuffs and wrapped in blankets like they were out in the arctic. The next day my ear was worse so we visited the local hospital set up for tea plantation workers. It was very clean and efficient and i was out with antibiotics quicker than you can say 'NHS'. Afterwards we went to tea museum where we had tour of the factory and saw how all different types of tea are made, very interesting indeed, i wont be able to look at a cup of tea in the same way again! We consulted the rubbish map and decided to head to 'top-station', which turned out to be a few houses at the top of the tea plantations at 2500m. We drank a lot of tea waiting for tourists to leave and a small kitten was the closest we have come to a tiger yet. Sadly that night we ate the penultimate tin of baked beans. We woke up to the sun rising up over the mountains of Kerala in through our tent window, drank more tea and eventually discovered a 4wd shortcut through a national park north to Udumalpettai.
Irritatingly four lads on motorbikes insisted on following us as they were afraid of elephant attacks. Luckily after fifteen minutes of low-range 4wd crawling over rocks with krausey out in front directing, they opted for the elephants and left us. Back in Tamil Nadu again we put the pressure back up in the tyres with the on-board air compressor, watched by the usual crowd of interested onlookers. That night we stayed in a hot dusty town called Udumalpettai, where an old guy cleaned the car which was good as the landcruiser hadn't been washed since Melbourne. Every other car in india is spotlessly clean...

No Tigers & The Kerala backwaters

Our useless map shows a shortcut through the hills, following the route of a 'modern day pilgrimage' to a forest temple at Sabrimaala. Sounded ideal so we set off with the thousands of other pilgrims in cars and buses decorated with orange flowers along the steep twisty roads. I cannot for the life of me understand why 80% of Indian drivers are utterly incapable of staying on their side of the road round a corner. Eventually we arrived at a very large carpark beside a town on a small brown river, packed with people, and a great holiday atmosphere. Groups of pilgrims dressed in orange and black headgear walk amongst the hawkers and traders, burning incense and chanting, a bit like Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. The pilgrims are required to bathe twice a day which might explain why so many people were in the very unappealing river. Entertainingly, women of menstruating age are banned as they defile the place, ha! We enjoyed a good thali at a pilgrim food hall. Unfortunately our holiday atmosphere ended when it became apparent that the road on our map didnt actually exist and we would have to drive all the way back again. So back we went and the bloody pilgrim drivers get extra air-horn. That night we camped for free in a grassy carpark of a very friendly luxury hotel, and the paying guests got to have the usual nosey around the car and rooftent.

The next day, back on the road again towards Kumily where there is a national park with tigers in it. We stopped in at a spice garden, where you pay some rupees and get a guided tour of all the plants. Located on an extremely steep hill, I just could not work out how the car i could see at the top had made it up there, especially when I had to stop and put the landcruiser into low range 4wd (quick Krause, the hubbs).

Very strange indeed... Soon it was all clear though, I wasnt behind the wheel of a Nissan, we were trying to drive up the exit slope! A sign would have been nice. Anyway, the tour was really very good, there were spices, herbs, medicinal and ornamental plants. It was especially interesting to see where various items in your cupboard come from. We learnt some useful things such the difference between black and white pepper, and some useless things such as where castor oil comes from. It turns out that 'all spice' is actually one plant and not numerous mixed together.

So we got to Kumily and camped in another hotel carpark, not bad except my beer went warm whilst trapped by an enthuisastic god-botherer. We watched Benjamin Button on the laptop, cheers Perkins. Turns out that Kumily and its wildlife park are very touristy and quite expensive. We went on a morning boat ride for 2 hours around the lake, where the highlight was watching a number of otters rolling around in the sand for a minute or so before they headed back to the water.


Annoyingly the park authorities refused to let us 4wd around the forest with a machete looking for tigers. We found a dingy cheap locals bar instead where an old guy explained to us how the bears in the forest will first claw out your eyes and then bite off your feet before going in for the real attack. He advised us to climb a very thin tree to escape. I am sure a hairy canadian once told us something similar.

Amongst other things, the state of Kerala is famous for its backwaters - a large area covered by a network of rivers, streams and lagoons, often choked with lilies and water hyacinth. So the following day we drove west out of the hills towards the coast to stay in Alleppey, a town near the centre of this backwater area. Arriving late it was a mission to find a place to camp, and eventually we paid a few rupees to camp in the garden of a nice looking homestay next door to a temple and use their bathroom. What a mistake that turned out to be. We searched out a cheap local bar, had some interesting conversations and watched a drunk auto-rickshaw driver try to drive off fifteen minutes after managing to get up from the floor. After all that I was not feeling too well with a cold and needed sleep, but we were assured that the deafening temple music and chanting would finish at 10pm, which it did. What they failed to mention that it would start again at 4.30am, oh my god i was so unhappy, luckily Amelia was very calm. Four hours later having got over my earlier murderous temple-music-rage we had a very pleasant two hours being paddled around the leafy waterways by an old guy in his a small wooden boat. It was all very peaceful, punctuated by pistol-shot sounds of local women washing clothes by thrashing them to death on stone pillars by the water. I'm sure it cannot do them any good. Stopping for a half-time coconut, we met a tame eagle. On returning we decided to head north to Fort Kochi, and in the future always check where the nearest temple is before stopping for the night...

Hill Station in Kerala

As I write this, a mass of cloud is moving up the mountain side in front of me. We are over 800m above sea level sitting on the balcony of our government guest house room. The Hill Station we are staying at here in Kerala is called Ponmudi. (Andrew has just found the World Service on his radio and has broken the peace with his excitement. Economy, terrorism and football. Excellent). We are drinking Vorion 6000 'super strong beer'.


Since our last post we spent a night at the most southern point of India, Kanniyakumari, where the Arabian Sea, Bay of Bengal and Indian Ocean meet. Amazing sunrises and sunsets. There are two rock outcrops, small islands, just a few hundred meters off the coast where a massive granite statue of an Indian God and a beautiful temple stand. The ferry ride was surprisingly quick and without hassle, and although we didn't wear our life vests, the rest of the ferry passengers did. We managed to camp at the building which was the center of British Government Administration, before independence. It is now a government guest house for VIP's, MP's etc. For 100 rupees (about $3.10) we were allowed to sleep in our tent but also use the facilities in the building. Very nice clean loos. The night 'watchman' took us on a tour as the building which was empty. The rooms were massive and the view from the rooftop was great. Unfortunately, like many Indian hotels and houses, the grounds were not ever finished.



We drove about 40 kms west to a palace Andrew had read about, planning to camp somewhere nearby. The entry fee board read '25 rupees Indians – 200 rupees Foreigners'. It was definitely worth it. The spectacular wooden carvings in the ceilings, walls and doors were so intricate and cared for. As we wandered around we met up with an English chap, Andy, who was staying in the next city. He asked around as we left the palace grounds for the nearest bar and, after getting fairly believable directions (ask 5 people and take the average answer) we went to find the 'wine shop'. 'No women allowed' we were told, and I wondered if I was going to be left sitting by the car with my book. Funnily enough, western women with 'short hair and a gruff Aussie demeanor' (thanks Andrew) don't count. The bar was full blokes sculling small bottles of brandy. We met 2 college professors who prided themselves in being bold enough to come and chat to us, but I think it was the red wine they mix with strong beer to make it taste better.

We drove to Trivandrum in the dark with Andy. There's no bloody way we would choose to drive at night normally, and the air-horn up grade just paid for itself. It's funny what a 'roo-bar' and load horn can do in the unpredictable and often dangerous Indian traffic. With the exception of buses and trucks, vehicles get out of our way. No one wears seat belts, yet we don't travel 5 meters without one. The traffic is not always bad, but there have been some very close calls.

It really is amazingly peaceful here with a stunning view. A local guy mentioned there are wild elephants not far down from here, but I am dubious. It would be too perfect. We've begun the 'Problems with the car' list for those who are interested:

1. The auxiliary battery is not charging meaning the fridge is only cold when the car is running.
2. Suspicious about the water temperature. Even when charging up hill in 40 degree heat the gauge reads 'normal'. It never wavers...


I've shaved Andrew's head and he now looks just like the village children who've had lice :-)

After a couple of days trying to fill the gas bottle in Mamallapuram we gave up and went south to French Pondicherry. Here, as usual, the ex-colonies of the dirty frenchies have good food available, bread cheese and wine. After about 10 litres of diesel we gave up trying to fill the gas bottle and had to buy an indian bottle and regulator. Predictably it is completely crap and leaks gas.

Amelia has taken to eating with her hands very quickly, probably this is due to her uncouth Aussie upbringing. Even the Indians are secretly impressed how quickly she can clear a banana leaf.

We have so far taken back roads and tracks through small villages and havent seen any other whiteys. The Indians are really friendly, no hassle, always a big smile. The local women stand around laughing at how horrible our cooking is, even the small children have refused to try any. Roads have varied between excellent smooth fresh with white lines, and really bad broken tarmac pistes. Over the last 900km we have slept in the tent every night and have bush camped 5 nights:

1. Night by smelly fishing village with many small pesky (but lovely) children trying to get into the car.

2. Night in coastal dune scrub, lots of peacocks

3. Two nights on edge of a quiet beach under some trees. Ate baked beans, only 3 tins left.

4. A night near town of Vembar in thorny bushes

There is officialy no such thing as a quiet camping spot in this part of the country. Dont know if there is some kind of celebrations going on, but every village seems to have a 1k pa system that is cranked up in the evening and it goes to midday the next day. It was quite a surreal night with three surrounding villages all blasting out different music, just like trying to sleep at Glastonbury, kind of.

Escape from Chennai

Escape from Chennai – arrival at Mamallapuram
Customs – We had been warned in Australia, we were warned by the clearing agents here in India, Customs will be difficult. Luckily we got a good officer who Andrew talked to about travel, the officers job and other niceties, and he seemed very nice. It still took 2 1/5 days to clear the car. Andrew was there when they initially opened the container, and said the car looked fine. The lock we'd put in the door was a bit smashed up – perhaps there were some heavy seas between Melbourne and Chennai. The container was re-sealed, ready to be moved from the docks.
The clearing agents were running around like Laurel and Hardy initially, but in the end we'll not know if they actually did a lot of ground work for us, as customs ended up being a piece of cake. They didn't even look in the car. We had emptied the fuel tank and gas bottle apparently for nothing! (We are now struggling to find somewhere to fill the bottle up again. They did ask questions such as 'the condition of the fuel filter', 'does it have a cup holder?', and 'how many indicators?'.
We took more than 6 auto trips to and from the clearing agents offices – in 35 degree heat, and also had to arrange car insurance. Other travellers with their own vehicle told us not to worry, or that they had tried but been refused insurance, but after some more thought we decided to visit the National India Insurance Company. At first we were told we were in the wrong office, then we were told they don't insure foreign vehicles and then (when we doubted the last answer and wanted to query it further) we were told at a different office, same company, that they had not insured a car like ours before, but they'd give it a go. Nearly 40 degrees outside, freezing in the office and 2 hours later we had filled out the forms and gotten a quote. They seemed really nice and not just 'in it for the cash'. 3000 rupees was the quote which equates to about $110. They did say however that they'd need to do an inspection of the vehicle before they would cover us.
On the day we actually received the car we had to go with the clearing agent to a huge freight container handling facility. It is about 15kms north of the city, and I'm glad we were not having to direct ourselves. The Indian men working at the handling yard had already broken the seal when we got there, and were working to get the wooden chocks out from under the car. Andrew backed it out of the container onto a cement ramp, and soon enough we were in Indian traffic, following our agent back to Triplicane where we had been staying. Andrew's first experience with driving in city traffic was interesting to say the least, but I was VERY impressed with his skills. I feel a lot safer up high in the landcruiser, rather than down at walking level as huge buses swerve and cut in on the road.
The clearing agents took the port charges back to their offices to work out our bill, and we decided to call the insurance people to inspect the car. Unfortunately language difficulties meant that when I thought they were on their way, they were wondering where we were. The owner of the guest house where we were staying used his phone to speak to them, and after some conversation he said 'I have a friend.... he can insure you cheap price.' Before we knew it some other guy from a different company turned up, grabbed the paperwork we'd filled out with the other company and called his boss. We handed over 3000 rupees and off he rode on his motorbike. An hour and a half later both the insurance and clearing agents arrived. We ended up paying 38 800 rupees – about $1200 to clear the car. Insurance was 2600 rupees. We headed out of Chennai at about 5pm – knowing we were racing the sunset, but desperate for some relief from the noise and bustle.
Minor car repair – here at Mamallapuram we needed to get a new terminal for one of the batteries as ours broke when Andrew tightened it. The post is a little worse for wear after our 'meltdown' in Melbourne the day before we left. Bad connections on a 900cc battery....