Champaner

Look away now, its one of those sickly disgusting moments when I have found somewhere nice... Gujarat is redeemed.

It's a word heritage site called Champaner (pronounced chapaner), but the actual location is Pavagadh, with the tourist hotel situated at a place called Manchi most of the way up the hill. The view of the mountainside is stunning, dry grass punctuated by steeper patches of black rock. This is in spite of the continuous trail of wood and plastic sheeting which forms the shacks along the pilgrim route. The usual selection of goods and pilgrim tat, with the addition of stands for the tasteless cut and paste photos. It's like a computerised version of those amusements where you poke your head through a hole to look like a beach bather or a medieval knight.

But this is one of the spots where you can slip through the gaps, and walk over the hillside among the ruins of semi religious buildings, fortifications, mosques, tombs, piles of rubble and tanks (man made lakes). On the hillside the fortification has numerous walls, some with still standing chambers full of bats. In the forest the ground is dry, but not dead. The large citadel complex at the bottom of the hill is a little restricted, but its possible to walk about in the brushland following cow, buffalo and possibly pig trails. Further into the forest (heading away from the hill) the ground is strewn with rocks. Some of these are carved, but whatever buildings once stood here are now nothing more than knee high. Along one track an archaeological site has a plaque describing its excavation by a university team in the 70s. Another track has a strange religious type building, in very good condition. It's almost deserted which suits my exploring just fine...

There is always a catch. Most of the trees seem to be like this:

Big thick thorns which go straight through the foam rubber of my sandals. I carry a crown of thorns in my feet. The thorns dig in and don't come out, although other times attach the entire branch to my foot. The ends poke just through the rubber into my feet, until the annoyance is too great and I'm forced to stop and pull some out. Unfortunately I run for one or two steps... and the heavy footfall produces a sharp pain. I limp for a bit... my advice: hard soled shoes! In fact boots, ankle covering. Metal

Delhi

The smog starts about 40km out of the city... I haven't seen the sun as more than a hazy patch of bright sky since. The sky is grey, on the bus people start to cough a little...

The first graffiti on the way into the city reads "I hate my life" on a ringroad overpass.

The famed scams are so far limited in effect, and the hotel tout quoted a reasonable rate after just 30 seconds... (probably over the odds for Delhi, but I just can't argue over a difference of about 1.5 GBP). The metered auto thought better of taking a long route, the chai wallah gave Rs10 a shot, and then dropped to Rs8. The cafe tried to overcharge by Rs10, but not very hard.

I fear something of the fatalistic Indian character. This is best expressed by I forget which of the Gurus "You cannot change what will happen, so the best course is to be silent"

It's grim up north

The north is cold. I sleep under as many blankets as the room has and I wake up cold. The sleeper train was cold, and then when you think about getting up, you remember that they don't have dosas up here. Why else would anyone bother getting out of bed. At least outside Gujarat you can get a beer.

Oh and worst of all, the cows here are discerning, they refuse my banana skins, I'm hurt (though I'm not entirely sure if banana skins do cows any good. Can't be worse than paper and plastic bags can it?). I want to go south... the grass is green and the... take me home!

Revelation (overdue)

And then it struck me. I get into the first auto (usually a tout) because I'm one of those sick puppies that actually enjoys a nice little 'storm in a tea-cup' conflict. This time it was the Vadodara bus depot (serving as the main bus stand during the reconstruction). A perfect spot for picking up naive tourists who have just arrived... so he tried to wind 4.1 onto the meter, which translates as about Rs50, before we even set off. (It should start at 0.6). The short distance before I stormed off was just enough to land me in the crowd of waiting autos... ok ok I enjoy it, just a little

Deferral

Of course its just the local superstition, in quite some detail, but what struck me was the voice. "It is believed"... and it reminded me of something discussed by Slavoj Zizek relating to deferral of religious beliefs. He talks at length in his argument that it is possible to believe through another, and that this is a characteristic of belief but not knowledge, but one of the anecdotes is so closely matched.

"According to a well-known anthropological anecdote, the "primitives" to whom one attributed certain "superstitious beliefs," when directly asked about them, answered that "some people believe…", immediately displacing their belief, transferring it onto another."

The corruption dance

No-one can see it, but inside I'm dancing. It's some crazy daydream stroke refuge... It's possibly inspired by the fast show, two sketches in particular. Somewhere between the "In-flay-tion" buzzword in the TV interview, and the fat singer in the shell suit. Except now the backing singers are singing "Corruption" instead of W*.
The clips for anyone who is clueless - "Inflaytion" Muchos philandero
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=egQ4NsVO_3M
Disco baby sexy baby hot
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m1_OMVI_ri0

So why would I be thinking of this little sketch. Well it turns out Baroda (Vadodara) has some quite well organised corruption. After all Gujarat is a developed state, seeing itself as the economic powerhouse of India. It began with trying to find a lodge, and discovering that the first few lodges were "full". Luckily I had some local friends to do the asking so there wasn't any danger of misunderstanding. But something clicked with the third lodge, the man at the desk asked "foreigner"... he helpfully unraveled part of the story. It turns out that as in many places in India some registration is required of foreign guests, and that this requires obtaining a special form from the police and getting them to stamp it once completed. Now all this requires is two helpful interactions with the local Police, I couldn't possibly see how... oh ok. None of the lodges had rooms, occasionally due to my tan and wearing a classically Indian shirt a few mistook me for an NRI, they asked if I had any Indian ID proof. On hearing foreigner there would be a quick shake of the head, in some cases the reaction even bordered on fear. We tried all combinations, I would go in alone, they would go in alone (through this we discovered that most of the lodges did really have rooms), but no success. At one lodge we offered to pay whatever extra it took to get the form processed, this wasn't even considered. Street by street, we split up to cover 5 lodges in a cluster, 3 on one road, 2 lodges away from busy areas... Up and down to a few hotels... in all the first day 20 lodges... friends spare bed.

You may be asking how anyone could profit from my inability to find a lodge. The answer is, there are rooms, for about Rs1200 or Rs1700. This is clearly what PIOs (foreigners of Indian origin) end up paying and thinking little of it. But I'm not paying that.

The second day of hunting wasn't much better. Another 20 lodges, though a few were repeats of the first day just in case they really were full and because my short term memory can't hold that many lodges. What shocks me is that Indians weren't even aware of what was going on in their own town. One auto driver offered to find me a lodge, and thinking my Rs600 budget (increased to Rs800) quite reasonable we hunted... it was his comment that we had tried 12 lodges. But nothing... in the end it was just repeats. One hotel was actually angry when I returned with a second auto driver. They don't even want anyone to see a foreigner going in or out - lest they be accused of breaking the whatever you call this scam.

The spirit of the day is best expressed through the following conversation on entering a medium sized hotel, which I recorded as it was hilarious.

"From which country"

"Hotel now full"

After a while I settled into a routine to save time. As I was walking up to the desk I would say "foreigner" and they would shake their head before I reached the desk. (It doesn't take long to try a lodge in India, as they are usually only about 20m apart, they seem to cluster together).

I gave up and made the most of the rest of the day. Later on I encountered some Kiwis who had suffered the same fate... not alone. However they were just about willing to pay Rs1700 and were probably not stubborn enough to have tried 40 different lodges... But they did give me a clue, a tourist hill spot some 45km away with a government run guest house. Took the next bus!

Auto driver battles, part 99, item 9

Gujarat now has metered autos, and its a conversation point for returning NRIs (Non-resident Indians). I met one who said that at first he hadn't considered getting an auto, due to the hassle of haggling, but was pleased to hear about the meters. So its not just me! (And on passing the police station they had a couple of autos in their pound, so the long arm is to be feared). Of course in classic Indian style its not entirely simple, the meters are repurposed mechanical meters which don't have enough digits, and so a look up table is used to convert the number into a price... still what comes out isn't unreasonable, if slightly mysterious.

Enter auto tout number one. I used the word meter, which despite the lack of English in this mostly Gujarati/Hindi speaking state, auto drivers understand. But no, on sitting down he says 100 rupees. I get up to leave, he says, "oh no no, 70 Rupees". I grab my bags and get out of his auto. His final offer as I walk away was Rs50, but hes not a man I wan't to give anything. I should point out hes in a line of about 20 parked autos, if you are going to try and rip someone off this isn't the place to do it. Walking down the line saying "meter" until a crowd of auto drivers agree which driver is first and I get in. I do hope that the reputation of tourists as soft targets is ever so slightly altered.

The honest (or at least very limited in his dishonesty) auto driver looks up the reading from the book and says Rs42.50. I give him Rs50. He's suprised (possibly because he added Rs5 himself) after my aggressive hunt for a metered auto, I think I managed to convince him it was a tip... but then again my gesture could equally have been interpreted as dismissive. So maybe I'm a difficult bastard, but I think I have distilled my thoughts for others -

Be generous to the people who don't try and rip you off. Ok ok that sounds pretentious and its trying too hard to fix an unfair universe

Poverty

I've previously considered just what is the lowest livable income in India. At the time the lowest salary I'd encountered was Rs50 per day, but I did wonder if in some areas you could get enough food to survive for Rs20 to Rs30 per day. Since then I have learned a bit more to qualify this, for example the price of 1kg of rice is about Rs30 in Gujarat, but there is more to living. The Indian governments definition of poverty is somewhat lower, setting the poverty line at Rs18 in cities and Rs12 in rural areas, per person, per day. This is clearly too low, and even the newspaper which repeated this fact comments that this isn't enough to afford government subsidised rice. I suspect this low estimate comes from two different problems; the failure of most government set prices to track inflation (which is at least 9% in India, or an increase of 136% per decade), and a very low threshold for poverty. Possibly the original threshold only covers enough food to eat. This is far below poverty, and the flaws of this measurement have been recognised for over 100 years in the UK, with the Rowntree foundations poverty line as just one example of the alternatives (ignoring percentile based definitions). Instead clothing, housing, medicines and even some basic items necessary for participation in society are considered a necessity. When mentioning that a mobile phone is considered a necessity you will encounter the abhorrent fiscal fascists who believe that it is somehow necessary for capitalism that the people at the bottom of the pile should suffer. But even in India this will become a necessity within a few years, fixed lines aren't really used and mobile banking is promoted. That's ignoring the number of services which can only be booked with a valid mobile number. Perhaps Rs50 is even too low for the poverty line... the figures might look rather worse if the official threshold is adjusted

Gujarat

The local spelling of Xerox is Zerox, makes sense.

It's cold here.

The cows are larger, quite noticeably so, when compared with anywhere in the south.

A few nuggets of wisdom from the Indian Rail system -

In the box marked 'destination', "Enter only alphabets"

After trying my destination, "Maximum 4 characters"

That could be considered quite restrictive travel advice, but in fact it means that looking up the code 'BRC' from the place name 'Vadodara' is a bit beyond this system.

Hampi Bazaar

In the little stories theme this is the beautiful Hampi Bazaar. It just so happens that I love decay, and hate shopping, and detest haggling for things even more. This scene extends for some 200m between two of the temples. The local story is that the shops were built illegally inside extensive stone religious structures. These are in the process of being restored, but make for a much improved Hampi. Some users of older guidebooks may be disappointed by this. But really, what use is a soap stone carving to anyone.

Stories in Everything

I think I have managed to make myself sick with a pretentious title. Often when you start talking to locals they will give you some explanation of what you would otherwise not consider. That the buildings in an area are illegal, or were built because of some funds, or on top of some site. Other times its what the locals ignore, like this silent concrete structure behind Madgaon station (also known as and spelled Margao, Margaon, Mangao, Mangoa... they should probably work on standardising that).

It's largely ignored, but as I was wandering around I soon found a couple of explanatory plaques. I was half expecting, from its silent decay, that it was some ill fated corruption riddled public transport system. But I was wrong, this is in fact a test track for a 'sky-bus' technology. But then again the idleness of the test track worried me. The use of the buildings by the health authority suggests ill fated isn't far off, but I don't find out all the details without the help of google. The plaques mention a World Fair, which as the term isn't familiar already suggests a dated vision of the future. This was supposed to be the Indian inspired mass-transit system of the future... different in that it was suspended.

I have a feeling the alignment of these blocks isn't critical, still, not entirely reassuring for a system which was completed 8 years ago.

It turns out that only 1.6kms of a planned 10.5km test track was completed. On the first test one employee was killed and three others injured... not much seems to have happened in the last 8 years. Still the Konkan railway corporation website still has big plans, but I don't see much coming of it. At least not before the Bangalore Metro is completed (its slipped a few years, as you can guess).

Genius

This is what I believe is the Kings courtyard or gateway in Hampi. I'm not sure on the name, but lets face it, I'm not an Archaeologist and this name probably isn't in the original language anyway. It's quite a significant structure, and probably worth preserving. At least thats the view of the Archaeological Survey of India. As with most monuments of this kind there is a sign to inform visitors of the statutory protection

Pretty clear on causing damage. Unfortunately some agency protecting the site was given a budget, and every now and then feels the need to do something to demonstrate how that budget isn't entirely squandered through corruption. In this case, expect the classic bits of filler cement smothered over the structure. It may be necessary in this case, but for most monuments the repairs are distinctly cosmetic

So if that was the worst of the preservation my rant might stop, but it gets worse. How do you stop the blocks from shifting? Well you could try pinning the stones with big metal pegs...

Notice the first hint of a problem, the peg has fractured the rock. This then exposed the peg, and the overall effect is just knocking a piece off the stone. Now this could be historical damage, I don't know when this plan was formed by someone who clearly knew about as much about working with stone as I do. But it gets worse, they decided to 'repair' the entire structure. For all I know this damage could be ancient, or I fear that this rant could simply be a racist judgement of an embryonic archaeological body learning through experimentation about preservation. And that it would seem hypocritical coming from anyone whose country has demolished its own historic buildings and even entire towns... but until I find out that someone's family member wasn't friends or married to someone in a family which happened to have a truckload of metal spikes, I will assume it was so.

 

 

Name and shame

Just in case anyone who is in India takes a moment to read this - the disreputable bus company is in fact 'Paulo travels'. They seem to operate near Goa and are best avoided - in addition to the stupid Rs10 charge, the drivers operate their own travel company out of the night bus. Fine during the day, but this continuous stopping and calling to pick up passengers on a night bus is the dumbest thing I have seen. Not even a chance of sleeping. Then in the morning one Paulo travels bus followed another. The leading bus had 1 brake light working, and no rear headlights. Quite a set...

I imagine that Paulo travels survive on this route because they don't get much repeat custom. Take a serious company...

Idiots

So we're in a country with the least safe roads in the world, lets get 2 wheelers. Idiot tourists. Today I saw a guy climb back onto his scooter with no skin on his forearm... nice. I'm sure that's going to sting a lot and for a long time. Just like the other idiot westerner, who apparently lives in Gokarna, can't drive a scooter to save her life, well her elbow and leg at least. Attempted an idiotic overtake of a bus on the inside of the bend, pure slow motion inevitability. Luckily neither of these two Darwin award candidates banged their unhelmeted heads. I have heard of a frightening sight in Hampi, a poor tourist who can't leave the country because her brain has swelled and would react to a change in pressure. The face is apparently quite a sight. Still, I'm sure she will find it really easy to explain to her insurance company how going around without a helmet isn't reckless behaviour whatever the wording of her policy. Then there are the idiot parents, endangering their small children, today one family where one of the two children had a helmet (favouritism?) and another where the two children wore cycle helmets... nice. Even ignoring the helmets the children would have been too small legally anyway by UK standards (not reaching the footrests) ... oh and there were 3 on a bike. Then there are the idiots riding too fast, which is shocking. In India in contrast you notice that everybody drives slowly, there is a reason. Here when a child steps out in front of a car from behind an obstruction, it is the drivers fault, it is always the drivers fault. Not that I won't soon be playing the same game... but I hope just slightly less stupidly

Plankton

The glowing (flashing) plankton are something special! It's hard to be specific because by the time you are swimming at night you aren't normally in a state for exact measurements. In Gokarna they seemed larger than I imagined plankton could possibly be? The flashes looked to be about 1cm long, and glowed very brightly for a second. In south Goa there are hundreds of flashes, but each only about 1mm long. The sea here is far more like glitter, but unfortunately the full effect is spoiled by a number of bright lights on the beach. This is palolem after all, no danger of losing track of land!

Productivity

One of the measures of the relative productivity of a country is the time taken to buy a stamp or some similar item. If this is a train ticket then I fear India may be in trouble. On reaching a small train station we join the back of the queue, at the front of the queue 3 men wait with various filled out forms, as is the custom. Nothing happens, and nothing continues to happen for some time. After about 30 minutes of nothing happening I poke my head around the counter and ask if they are even open, to which they reply "Yes" with some certainty. About 5 minutes later the services continues with some more form exchange, and the next customer begins. I fear India does not appear in the efficiency league tables, as the unfortunate test customer is still waiting

Goa

It's the little things here which make you smile

I sat near a woman eating breakfast... with her dog. Not to say her dog was there, her dog was a person at the meal, and referred to as such.

The beach is full of joggers in the morning, so set in their usual routine that none are swimming in the perfect blue sea, just the right temperature for exercise.

The signs have corrected grammar or blacked out services which are no longer available. I suspect the tourists here drive this, they don't get Indian style!

The genius of Aldous Huxley

In his foreword on "Brave new world" some 15 years later, there are the following wonderful quotes.

"In an age of advanced technology, ineffficieny is the sin against the holy ghost". I have been wondering about the relationship between efficiency and employment for some time...

"The most important manhattan projects of the future will be vast government-sponsored inquiries into what the politicians call 'The problem of happiness'. In other words, making people love their servitude" - Aldous Huxley
"It's time we admitted that there's more to life than money and it's time we focused not just on GDP but on GWB – general wellbeing." - David Cameron, on introducing a measure of 'well-being' for the UK

Crimes of the auto drivers

Not being a bitter person, as I don't often fall for these scams... I am bitter anyway. I find them too annoying. Their latest exploits include the following, as they are even more obnoxious at tourist spots. My behaviour in countering may often seem rude, and not reflecting the fact that the majority of auto drivers (in rural areas) work hard for unreliable pay. It must be remembered that this is not rude, as the offended entities are not in fact people

Exploring on foot is sometimes the least hassle, but with company an auto may be preferable. My estimation of distances on foot isn't perfect - it turns out my estimate was a bit short - 2.5km. The auto driver loudly protests and on the journey points out the 3km marker some 200m from the destination. With a range of the distance as 3.2km to 3.3km he proudly said "I was right, 4km". I point to the marker some 200m away, and say - no not 4km, 3.2km. To this he replies, yes 4km... I'm not sure why, as I had already agreed a fixed price, this fundamental disagreement with reality persists

You only gave me Rs70, while holding Rs80. I've been considering buying a bamboo cane for just this purpose, as auto drivers are not generally popular.

Rs150 journey at the end of the day, but despite leafing through a large wad of notes the auto driver has only Rs30 change for Rs200. I'm almost certain the bastard lies, hoping I will give him more, but I can't see the notes clearly in the dark. Lucky I always have exact change for these situations

"No bus at this time". Walk 200m, see bus pulling in. Saved outselves about Rs150. However I should add that sometimes when asking directions auto drivers will help, one correctly directed me to an ATM and another a bus stop recently.

On very common routes, where the autos and small vans act almost as a bus service, you can be given a per person price for the auto. Normally reasonable, the driver will wait for a few minutes to get as many people as he can. For a group of 3 people to agree the correct fare means per journey, considering road, distance and return... but then to drop in the words "per person" just at the end of negotiation. From the introduction of the words he knows this isn't how it works, and clearly wanted 3x the fair rate. I laughed hard in his face and chose a different auto. Sadly too many tourists pay these unprincipled scam artists

On a slightly different note, a bus scam for a tourist sleeper. Why trash the reputation of your company, and this is from a man who considers Ryanairs charges reasonable, by adding a hidden Rs10 'tip' on boarding the bus. (They actually had a sign to this effect to make people cough up). Is such a small sum of money on a Rs650 ticket worth it?

Auto drivers protest of "no return journey". Occasionally true for long journeys which take them outside their patch, but greatly overused in tourist spots. I have started to counter with "How is that my problem", which is quickly understood

Charges for 3 or 4 people in tourist areas. When cooperating auto drivers want to prevent tourists getting a good deal, and despite the reality of a trivial added fuel cost try and charge a far higher rate for more than 2 people. This cooperation is in itself a problem, and despite so far managing to break them almost every time, it sometimes needs the waiting standoff. They will set a high rate, and you don't have a choice. The best strategies are to walk off in the right direction, and hope a strike breaker or other auto will see you, or simply to wait. If the fair is clearly unreasonable the cooperation may collapse

Traveler hangouts

So, this is the first stop really popular with travelers who have strayed from Goa. Each cafe on the beach has an almost identical and wide ranging menu of food from their respective home countries: Israeli food, German food, Italian food... you can have muesli, fruit, English breakfast or pancakes for breakfast, pizza, pasta, or a burger for dinner. Daytime activities consist of games of throwing, catching and twirling various objects and giving yourself skin cancer. How adventurous

Cliche

Dreadlocks are the order of the day, and late night entertainment seems to consist of sitting around a fire with some drums... On the other hand the water really does sparkle if you take a night swim (I didn't trust the reports from the stoned community at first). I'm sure someone can tell me what this actually is, or at least something more helpful than the 'the water's energy' answer I'm likely to get near hear.

Poor auto drivers

I feel for them, resigned and exasperated in their negotiations with Israeli tourists

The spree

An auto or taxi driver is a man who can stand in front of a sign which says 'Pondicherry 96km' and argue that it is in fact 125km distant. The use of a specific place name is because I have seen this exact case happen. It's not isolated, today I was told a post office which I well knew to be 500m away was some 3km distant. Or its even subtle increases, like the beach being 7km not 6km. Why, this is a fixed quantity, no measure of auto driver BS can change this. Knowing the exact price of petrol and 2 stroke oil sometimes ends the 'petrol prices' avenue of untruths. Perhaps even that the destination you had in mind is not open for some reason. My response until now has been to walk, or even better take a 2 wheeler. A single journey can make a 2 two wheeler cheaper and I can show the keys with a wide grin whenever I hear the word 'auto'.  But with recovery needed I am forced to take the dreaded transport. My only recourse has been utter rudeness. For price walking off in the direction of travel until they agree to my pricing, or if they hassle me more than is reasonable telling them to F off. Should I flip, you will know me by the trail of burning yellow... but thankfully in paradise the mosquitoes can be ignored, even yellow and black 3 wheelers.

Confessions, part 3

Ever since a cow lowered its horns at me I will even wait for a gap in the traffic to give cows an extra wide berth when passing. This is not a phobia, that would be the feeling I get when I'm walking and an Indian helpfully points to the nearest cave and says "Don't go there, tiger home". After which every cracking branch signals my being stalked...

Finished that

No more Emma, I hope this Pip fellow knows the value of stoicism.

One line did grab me however, among other chuckles, for having been written near 200 years ago.
"They come from Birmingham, which is not a place to promise much, you know, Mr Weston"
Sorry Charlotte!

Confessions, part 2

The shirts that I have been wearing for the past month are held together in places by superglue.

Local brands

A popular local drink is 'Thums up'. Yes this is the spelling. I should stand for functional language and I can't make strong enough a case for the 'b', but still it pains me. There are bigger misuses of language to worry about. Ok maybe the person who created the sign which reads 'XOROX' should consider why the 50,000 other signs for this micro industry are all spelled 'XEROX'. Or I'm in error and I don't even wan't to know what XOROX means.

Error in creation

The shop didn't have any chilled 7up, sprite, or generic versions of these drinks. I'll try a different brand I thought, Jeera Masala I thought, it looks a bit like coke and lets face it all soft drinks taste the same. What a mistake that was, 600ml of something between a coke and a curry. Masala is the term for spiced foods, often implicitly a certain style of spicing. It turns out Jeera is cumin, so that can start you imagining the taste. Somehow this drink tasted salty (without containing salt) while also sweet. If I try and think of curry the sweetness shocked me, if I thought of sweet the spices get you. Much like most biscuits here are an inedible 'sweet salt' mixture. I managed to drink most of this creation, but post this as a warning should anyone else get curious

Confessions

Half of my enjoyment from eating bananas is seeing the excited animation of a cow presented with a banana skin

Risk factors

So by chance I'm offered a lift to my next destination, and I accept as my back has had enough after the previous days 10km fully loaded. Things will get better, the sooner I finish reading about the silly little 'Emma' the sooner I can lose another half kilo of wasted exertion. Before we even set off I have created much amusement and intrigue among the hotel staff, for I'm doing something unusual. It's called a seat belt and after some conversation one of the young guys uses the word 'safety' and gets an understanding response from another. Clearly that too is a loan word/concept from English.
We follow a jeep which demonstrates the rather different approach to vechicle lights in India. In this case the reversing lights and rear headlights are wired in with a couple of other red, blue, green and yellow bulbs and flash alternately.
As we get going the driver asks the usual questions, nothing untoward, and then offers me a beer. I refuse as even for me its a bit early, but shortly he stops and gets a bottle. I should point out that his driving until this point was good by Indian standards, his dangerous overtakes are balanced by a little bit of power in the car which means we tuck infront of the trucks nicely. After this point he is a little distracted, for the primary danger of drink driving is that one hand is then tied up holding the bottle. It all makes sense now! Its still only about 2.30pm and this is the main coast road in bright sunlight, but seems to be accepted.
He talks about wanting to do something with his life, and just as I'm expecting some uninteresting introspection he mentions he has a BSc and his personal interest is in biofuels. Actually experimenting with marine plants and mentioning a shortage of land. This is curiously something which has interested me before, and I've read what I see about the debate, ethics and concern of iron sulphate seeding for algae. I try and engage him with a discussion on increasing the productive land - as shortage of water and good soil are other avenues, but I'm not sure if I am understood. I get tied up in an explanation of desalination costs, and he drifts onto Indian corruption (the death of all conversations in India)

New years day

Well its only right to have a swim on new years, show you have no fear of the elements, early in the morning ...when the temperature is barely above 20 degrees outside. Before the mid-day sun makes it... oh poor Europeans. Often you see rocky outcrops and islands and they look so close, and today I thought why not swim to it. Not sure why, I didn't even have any doubts... it is probably quite dangerous. So it turns out distances over water are deceptive, but thankfully the closest rock was only about 500m out and I quickly gave up on reaching the others (still keeping too much for the way back for anyone who has seen Gattaca). And as my writing this proves there wasn't any current. But really why are rocks so sharp? Despite all my care I have dozens of cuts on my hands and feet, and you can imagine the fear of sharks these small drops of blood can excite in the mind of your humble narrator! So later I get back to land and in Indian style they know these rocks to be 1.5km away, (google confirms this is in fact about 750m if you measure from the same point). And also that I should probably have worn gloves... and now I'm thinking about foot-gloves. Do they make marine versions of those 'shoes' with individual toes?

A bit of a quiet one

I pretend to shun the company of other westerners and wont let myself go to Goa or Gokarna for new years. Instead I think, well somewhere coastal is bound to have one or two other tourists I will just choose somewhere further south. I was wrong twice, and settle on the second coastal town I try without a single westerner to be seen. It probably wasn't a good sign that the last tourists the hotel so excitedly talk about sound a lot like the friends I know who stayed here some days before. It turns out Murudeshwara is a popular stop for Indians at new year which has really forced up prices anyway. The beach party is moderately lively by local standards, with music here and there and a beach full of cars and small groups of people drinking. The police take a gentle stroll down the beach twirling their beating canes just to make sure nothing gets out of control. It's not a bad place really, the tallest Shiva statue and temple are both illuminated at night on a rocky outcrop of land.