OUR NEWS

We'll be updating this page regularly while we're away for anyone interested in keeping track of our travels

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PART ONE – AN INDIAN ODYSSEY

We were 45 minutes late getting to mum's for our lift for the airport. Suddenly there seemed to be a whole lot of stuff around the place that needed to be packed in the loft or the shed. It has to be said there was a bit of a last minute panic. After all, we weren't just going away on holiday – we've given up work, Dan's selling his car, our cats had to be found a new home and the entire house had to be emptied and cleaned ready for tenants to move in.

It wasn't ideal that there wasn't a tenancy arranged by the time we went. Our estate agent had cocked up and let us think that something was going ahead when actually the guy we thought we were renting to hadn't turned up at their office to pay any money. There wasn't a lot we could do since it was going to cost four hundred pounds to alter our flight dates – we decided to leave the agents to do the job we were paying them to do and go anyway.

Despite our late arrival for our lift, we arrived at Heathrow in plenty of time for our flight to Doha, in Qatar in the middle east. This was to be a six and a half hour flight, so it was fortunate that the airline was quite luxurious. The plane was half empty and the flight staff kept us well supplied with food and drink throughout the journey of about 4,500 miles.

On arrival at Doha we had half an hour before our connecting flight to Trivandrum, Kerala, Southern India. Naturally with both of us being smokers we decided we had time for a quick ciggy before boarding our second flight. We didn't see any smoking area so (as you do) both dived into our respective loos for a top up of nicotine. It wasn't until we'd finished and returned to the departure lounge that we noticed a sign on the wall threatening six months' imprisonment for smoking! Whoops! This was our first lesson in realising that foreign cultures that far away from home are very very different ;-)  Anyway, we were fortunate and boarded our second plane just as a Last call was being put out.

Dan has traveled long distances in the past, but this was my first experience of a very long journey. Our second flight out of Doha took four and a half hours and took us around another three thousand miles further away from home. We weren't as lucky this time – the plane had less leg room and felt a good deal more rickety than the first. It was full of Indians coughing and sneezing and by the time we arrived it has to be said I had just about had enough of flying for one day. By this time it was 7.30 the following morning.

The baggage hall had 3 tiny baggage carousels. By the time we had been thru customs (a very closely packed nose to back affair), our bags were waiting for us. We wandered outside. It wasn't incredibly hot as it was still early (around 26C), but still the humidity was noticeable and we immediately peeled off a few layers, knowing that they wouldn't be needed again until some months down the line.

The Indian roads have to be seen to be believed – I think “terrifying” is the word that immediately springs to mind and we were seriously glad that we had only a 13 kilometre drive to our first hotel, which my friend had very kindly arranged for us so that we wouldn't have to trudge around in the heat looking for accommodation after such a long journey.

We asked Aji, our friendly taxi driver, if there were any rules of the road. “Yes”, he replied, “but nobody takes any notice of them”. It seemed to be a case of find a gap and get in it, no matter what side of the road it was on – we still haven't figured out which side of the road one is actually supposed to drive on! Needless to say, we have absolutely no intention of hiring a car or bike while we are here. The Indians believe that there's no need to be careful, because if today is the day they are meant to die then they will, otherwise the Gods will keep them safe. We haven't quite been here long enough to believe in that philosophy and I'm not sure we ever will be.

The roads from Trivandrum to Kovalam Beach were filled with a melee of very large trucks, buses packed to overflowing. cars, mopeds with seemingly unbelievable cargoes (3 people? No problem. Baskets of chickens? Fine. Stacks of crates rising up 4 foot above the driver's head? Perfectly normal) We even saw an elephant on the back of a truck.

The scenery struck me as a) amazingly lush and green for what I had always imagined to be a hot, dry country, b) exceptionally colourful – although most of the people we passed seemed to live in shacks by the roadside made of bamboo and palm leaves, the women in particular are dressed in saris in a myriad beautiful colours, all looking clean and fresh.

The poverty of the country was immediately noticeable and yet all the people seemed to be incredibly happy. There were women walking along the roadside with enormous aluminium pans balanced on their heads with all kinds of (very heavy-looking) cargoes. Everyone who noticed us as we passed gave us great big (often toothless) grins and waved a friendly greeting.

Our hotel was the Hotel Peacock, reached down a very steep and rutted track which took the taxi driver quite some negotiation. We were greeted on arrival with a very friendly “Namaste” - palms together in front of the chest and a slight bow, and led to our room. This was a good size with a large bed, table and chairs, 2 arm chairs and coffee table and a little balcony overlooking lush jungle with a cane hanging chair suspended from the ceiling. Although everything was very old, it was all very clean and we were more than happy. We tried not to look too hard at the electrics, but vowed that we would never get in the shower while the water heater was switched on!

By this time, the heat and humidity were both soaring and the first thing we did was to take off all our clothes and have a cold shower. We have been doing this at every opportunity since. Neither of us has ever visited a tropical climate before, although we had been warned. We're hoping we'll get used to it after a little while, although at this time of year, temperatures are still rising and we can expect another ten degrees on top of the 35C we have now before we move north from here.

In addition to the heat and humidity, we immediately noticed how much more directly overhead the sun is here – and boy is it strong!

Despite neither of us having slept much and both feeling a bit dazed and exhausted, we got ready to go out exploring. My first concern was what to wear – I've read that Indians don't take kindly to women with uncovered shoulders and legs, however it was actually too hot to contemplate wearing any clothes AT ALL! In the end I settled for a long sarong which covered my legs and body, and a short sleeved top that covered my shoulders. Dan was OK in his shorts and T shirt.

First Explorations of Kovalam Beach

What funny people the poorer Indians are. On the first day we were sold 2 lunghi's for 700 rupees, but 5 mins later the same guy wants to sell us another 2 for 1200 rupes? seems obsurd that these people just don't see or want to see that we have 2 already and the fact that he had just sold them to us really doesn't matter to him? In fact another seller of the same products would stand by waiting for the original seller to finish his pitch before starting his. Completely mad thinking and perspective.

We soon realized that this is the way here and maybe 20 people would try and sell you exactly the same thing as you were wearing at the time and give it no thought whatsoever.

Badgering for that little extra rupees is the way here and even the shop keepers try and barter. They like to get a little book out and write their best offer down, which may be 4 times that final buy price, 20 minutes later. I have seen this type of buying/ selling style in Tunisia, but no where near on this scale.

First experiences of illness in India

We had the most amazing fish curry one evening – sear fish in coconut milk. We'd never had a fish curry so good. Unfortunately after about 20 minutes my stomach started to complain bitterly. Within a few hours I was feeling quite ill. We were in the process of changing rooms to a place nearer the beach and as soon as we arrived I collapsed on the bed and stayed there for the rest of the day in between numerous visits to the toilet. I was unable to even keep water inside me, something of a problem in this heat and humidity.

Dan returned to the bar where we had eaten and the manager there (another Aji) explained that coconut milk is very very bad for a sensitive stomach – I suffer from IBS. This surprised me a little because we often have coconut milk at home, but Aji said that the fresh milk is in no way similar.

We took my temperature with our digi thermometer and it had risen to 38.8C.

He gave Dan a concoction of very strong teamixed with ginger and lime to bring back to me and said that this was the natural antidote to too much coconut milk. Aji's remedy made me immediately violently sick but I began to feel better almost straight away. I took it easy for a while and Dan went out to eat in the same bar later that evening.

Crabs that bury themselves in seconds

The Mysteries of Kovalam Alcohol Laws

Beer is only allowed to be sold in one licenced bar here

All the other bars buy their beer from this licenced bar to sell to their customers

Because they're not supposed to be selling it, they serve your beer in a coffee mug and insist that you must keep the beer bottle hidden under the table

BUT, if you complain about the coffee mug and make noises about going somewhere else, you can have a glass!

Guests in our room

We are sharing our room with several little lizards. They make a high pitched squeaking sound to each other and stick to the walls and ceiling with big suckered toes. They're about 3-4 inches long, almost translucent with yellowy/greeny patterns. We don't mind them at all because they eat the insects.

We're well prepared and brought a double mosquito net with us which is set up over the bed but we've been surprised that there doesn't seem to be that many mosquitos here – you'd see a lot more in the Greek Islands or parts of Spain.

Yesterday we had to venture out on to the roads for the first time because our debit cards weren't working here and we needed to get to an HSBC bank. We were lucky that there's one about 15 km away in Trivandrum. We opted to pay a little extra for the safety?? of a taxi rather than getting an auto rickshaw, or tuc tuc.

We've now figured that they are actually meant to drive on the left here just like at home, but boy was it a scarey journey when we got into town. The roundabouts are particularly distressing – you don't give way, you just wait till there's a gap big enough to get in and then go for it. The taxi driver took us to a cashpoint, but we needed to cross the road to get to it. We waited for the biggest gap we'd seen in minutes and then just ran! The taxi driver had offered to hold our hand for us, but luckily we managed OK LOL

Wednesday 12th March
After the stresses of international banking the day before, we decided to do nothing at all yesterday and spent a few hours sitting on the beach. The skies were cloudy and we thought we'd be safe enough not to burn. Wrong! After no more than a couple of hours, we both looked like lobsters. Dan was under an umbrella with the famous factor fifty and still got lobstered.

My skin doesn't usually burn and I can happily sit out in the sun for 8 hours in the Med using no more than a factor 8 sun cream. Not here – we're on the factor 50 and still getting burnt even when the sun isn't properly out. The sun simply has to be treated with the utmost respect here.

The beach is no more than 50 metres from our room. It's beautiful sand of 2 colours – part golden blonde and partly almost black. The 2 colours mingle together in beautiful patterns as the waves pull in and out.  And what waves! The sea here is very rough with strong undercurrents. There are always 2 lifeguards on duty and they blow whistles as soon as anyone gets too near to a dangerous swell. The waves are strong enough to knock you off your feet even when you're only knee deep in the water and their backpull is just incredible. This is definitely not a place to venture very far out into the sea unless you were a very strong swimmer and understood the currents.

The sea is the Lakshadweep Sea and it's the first sea I've ever known to actually be warm – it's pure luxury to feel the waves and the bubbling of the currents. We've taken to beginning each day with a dip – I couldn't really call it a swim because it's simply too rough to swim – simply trying to stand up against the waves is exercise enough for us.

There's a lighthouse at one end of the beach and the beach is known as Lighthouse Beach. We've been told we should climb the lighthouse for amazing views so that's something we must get around to doing while we're here.

Flora and Fauna

It is fantastically green here. We're surrounded by coconut palms and what a useful plant that is to the people here – they eat its flesh, drink its milk, rub its oil into their hair and skin and even carve the cutest little elephants and monkeys from its shell. What's left of the shells is used to make fires on which to cook food. Nothing is wasted.

Many of the back-alleys of Kovalam are overhung by coconut trees, sometimes with as many as twenty or thirty ripe coconuts waiting to fall. We asked a local if many people get hurt by falling coconuts as this seems a very real possibility. He told us that coconuts NEVER fall on people because the God of coconuts considers people her children and would never hurt them. We haven't seen one fall on anyone yet, but we had a close miss one day when one fell a few feet behind Dan, worried?. Perhaps it would be prudent to have some faith in the God of Coconuts while we are here.

There are awesome eagles wheeling and rolling in the skies, sometimes only 15 foot overhead. By the tuc tuc stand we stood and watched about 15 eagles chasing crows the other day – an incredible sight. I've never seen either so many eagles or at such close range. Apparently there's only one kind of eagle here but nobody knows what type it is.

I'm on our balcony now. I've just watched the most beautiful black and cream butterfly flitting through the plants in the garden. The cobbler told us yesterday that in around August, the butterflies can reach the size of a bank-note.

We've seen a few cockroaches after dark, but not too many. There are many many crows and their cawing is a constant background sound here. They don't look like the crows at home – they're black with grey heads rather than black all over. 

You see plants here that we grow as houseplants at home – but with a difference – the cheese plants wrap themselves around the coconut trees and grow to eighty foot tall. The leaves grow to 10 times the size they would at home. Just outside our balcony grows the same Devils Ivy plant that's in our kitchen at home – this also has leaves ten times the size of ours. There are beautiful hibiscus plants and other very tropical looking flowers you would never see growing in England. The jasmine smells out of this world and the women wear garlands of it in their hair – who needs perfume when nature's scents are all around?

We have a little garden just outside our room and I'm sitting here watching a beautiful brown and cream butterfly gathering nectar. There are salvias, hoyas, oleander, palms, unusual looking firs and many other plants I don't recognise. The little ladies in their bright saris come and water the garden several times a day and sweep the sand with brooms made of twigs. The diversity of what will grow in this dusty sand is just incredible.

There are fish we've never seen or heard of although Dan has been a keen fisherman since childhood. Each evening the beachfront restaurants lay out the day's catch in tanks to be chosen for dinner – kingfish, searfish, butterfish, red snapper, black snapper, barracuda. Lobsters, crabs and tiger prawns the length of your hand and king prawns that are even bigger still. 

Apparently there are sharks here, but not big enough ones to harm anyone close enough to the beach. A local guy we were talking to was telling us that not long ago a blue whale was beached just down the coast at the next cove and that hundreds of local people and tourists gathered there to help push it back out to sea.

Thursday 13^th March

We took a long walk this afternoon past the lighthouse at the end of the bay as we'd heard there was another beach beyond. As soon as you get half a mile away from the beach front at Kovalam there's no sign of tourists whatsoever and the real India begins.

We wandered thru the coconut groves and out on to the road. Stopped to roll a cigarette for an old fisherman that asked for one and were amazed to find that he didn't even know how to work the lighter. He didn't speak a word of English but was really friendly and smiley and grateful for a smoke.

We came across a tiny little village with steep steps that led down to a beach with a few fishing boats. The children came running out to see us, asking for school pens and eager to practice their English. All the children in Kerala go to free state schools and the literacy rate here is one of the highest in India at 91%. Even the smallest children from the poorest homes can manage a few words of English. There were a lot of goats trotting around the village, some so young that their umbilical cords were still there. The houses are made of whatever they can find to build them with – sometimes brick, sometimes mud, but they all have roofs made out of coconut palm leaves – this seems to be a very important building material here.

We wandered on further down the road, drawn by the sight of a huge decorative mosque in the distance. We came upon a very large fishing village with literally hundreds of brightly coloured fishing boats. The fishermen were in the process of bringing in the day's catch and the women were sitting on the quayside noisily bartering to sell the fish.

Immediately it was obvious that the people here don't get to see white people often. Everyone stopped to stare at us as we walked by. The people didn't seem at all hostile, just curious. One little boy ran up to me and touched my hand and then ran away again as quickly as he could – I think he just wanted to see if white skin felt the same as his. 

A guy came over who spoke very good English and welcomed us to his village. He told us they were happy for us to wander around and have a look and told us that this was one of the major fish markets in the area and that trucks came here twice a day to collect the fish and take it off to the busier tourist areas along the coast.

The smell of fish was overpowering. There was a real hustle and bustle about the place and there must have been around five hundred people there buying and selling the fish. It was a very smelly, noisy and colourful scene, definitely a taster of the real India beyond the reach of most tourists.

We spent an hour or so wandering around, watching and taking in the colours and smells, taking photos and then decided we'd get a tuk tuk back to Kovalam. We're starting to get  a little more used to these now, although there are still decidedly terrifying moments. When the schools close for the afternoon, it's not uncommon to see a tuk tuk with as many as 15 little children all hanging on for dear life inside, all their school bags hanging on the outside.

Friday 14^th March

Yesterday we hired our favourite friendly taxi driver Mani to take us on a magical mystery tour. We are getting tired of the tourists here and wanted to see something of the real India. So off we went in his little white taxi.

First stop was for an elephant festival going thru a village. There were about 20 or 30 devotees marching from village to village with an elephant, stopping at all the temples on the way and collecting money for them. They banged drums and chanted as the elephant plodded slowly up the road, beautifully decorated with coloured paints, bells and garlands of flowers.

On next to an old Roman Catholic church which looked strangely British despite its incongruous setting amongst the coconut palms. One of the main differences between this and an English church was the lack of rich ornamentation. The altar was richly dressed and a few pilgrims were there to pray, but beyond the alter, apart from the simple stained glass windows, the church was unusually plain for such a large building. The graves in the graveyards were simple mounds of the very red local earth with black wooden crosses on top, usually showing only Christian names and the dates of the people's lives. It feels quite strange to see such an English looking church in such a tropical setting.

We drove thru a local fishing village which Mani explained was all Christian. This was real India. No tourists here and Mani said that they don't get to see white people there. The name of the village was Poovar and it spreads along a golden sandy beach for miles, the beach covered with the traditional brightly coloured wooden fishing boats with their curved prows. We noted the other day that these boats seem to be bound together with rope, possibly made from coconut fibres.

In the village it was interesting to see the people living their life – making food on the step in front of their house, sitting in the shade playing cards, washing their big metal cauldrons in the taps by the roadside which draw water from the local wells.

There are many jack fruit trees here along with the coconuts and mangoes. Neither Dan or I had ever seen or heard of a jack fruit before – it's a large (up to a foot and a half long) spikey yellow looking fruit. We haven't tried one yet. Mani said you can tell when they're ripe because they start to go brown, and that they're full of seeds with fleshy fruit around.

We were taken to a viewpoint high above the village and from here could appreciate the sheer extent of the coconut palms here – just coconut trees and beach and sea for as far as you could see. Mani said that there are many snakes in the forests around here and that it not uncommon for people to be bitten and die. He said if you are bitten on an arm or leg, you can go to the snake doctor in the village who applies a special kind of stone to the bite which draws out the poison. If the area can be tourniqueted you're lucky and will lose only the part below the tourniquet, however, he said that often bites are on the backside or back because they happen while people are going to the toilet in the forest.

We stopped at a tiny beach that had nothing apart from some very expensive looking holiday homes – you could tell they're expensive because they had beautifully maintained gardens and were built of new red brick with slate tiled roofs. Mani said that these rent for 6000 to 7000 rupees per night – over a hundred pounds and that they're mainly let to Italians and Germans who pay for them from home before they're aware how little things cost here – our room is currently costing four pounds a night. To me it feels obscene for these people to blatantly spend so much money in a country where people are so poor and manage with so little.

Next, Mani took us to the backwaters where we haggled to arrange a short boat trip. We sat like maharajahs on the ubiquitous plastic garden chairs while a little man punted us around the waters. This is the most tranquil place we've been since we arrived – nothing but the sound of the bamboo pole in the water as we glided along, and the birds in the coconut palms. It was soooo peaceful. We saw sandpipers, some stork type birds and the most stunning turquoise blue kingfisher. It was a beautiful relaxing hour.

Dan wanted to stop at the liquor store so Mani led us down a steep sandy track by the side of the road to a little shack hidden well back off the road, where they were doing a roaring trade. Whisky, rum, brandy, beer. Dan bought some whisky and some rum for around four pounds.

We were exhausted by the time we arrived back at Kovalam. Our taxi had cost around ten pounds for 5 hours of Mani's time and guiding experience. He made a great guide, answering all our questions as we went along.

As we sat and caught up on some food and soft drinks, the sky turned black overhead and the most amazing thunderstorm began. We sat and watched as the lightning struck the sea, taking pity on the poor fishermen we'd seen going out to sea earlier in the evening. The rain came down like a power shower – a serious deluge. Kovalam beach was empty in minutes and the restaurants along the front did poor business. The rain continued for about two or three hours, causing a power cut in the bar we were in. In view of the state of the Indian wiring, we were happier with the power off while there was that much rain coming down. The restaurant kitchen carried on cooking by candlelight and Calor gas lanterns. Its floor was flooded in minutes. Just a small taste of what the monsoons must be like, we thought.

It's been very humid and overcast for several days prior to this, so we were glad of the rain. The air felt clean and cool once it stopped and I could hear the plants in our hotel garden breathing a sigh of relief at a proper drink. Sure enough, the weather has cleared out and the sky is clear blue once again today – we're going to have to take great care not to burn.

We've decided to move on from here in the next couple of days and have been reading our Lonely Planet to try and decide where to go next. It's too touristy and expensive here for us – a lovely place to be whilst acclimatizing to the tropical climate, but really its like the Benidorm of India, with lots of English and Germans on package holidays, and prices to reflect this. Our house in Pinner still hasn't been let so we're living on our savings at the moment. We've been told this is one of the most expensive places in India so we're ready to move on to somewhere that better suits our budget now. The prospect of carrying a heavy backpack in this climate is something I can't say I'm looking forward to, but traveling is what we came here to do and now is about the time to do it – we'll manage.

Tuesday 18^th March - First Indian train experience
We decided to get out of this tourist trap now and travel north up the west coast to Cochin, a five hour train ride.

Mani got us safely thru the traffic to Trivandrum Central Station. There had been heavy rain overnight and some of the streets were flooded; a few sets of traffic lights were out so the main road was even more chaotic than usual. The cross roads were particularly interesting!

We were headed for Cochin, a five hour journey northwards up India's west coast. The instant we arrived at the station, 2 red-shirted porters appeared, grabbed our bags from the taxi boot, loaded them onto their heads (ignoring our luggage trolleys) and literally ran off to the ticket kiosk.

Our tickets cost 460 rupees for two, in air conditioned class. As soon as we had our tickets, the porters were off again, and we had trouble keeping up with them as they trotted down the platform. The platform was crowded with people – there were sinks for hand washing, filtered water drinking points as well as stalls selling food and water.

The train pulled up at the platform within 5 minutes and the porters rushed off again with our bags after checking our tickets.

The train is great – there are 3 layers of seats/bunks and so far we have had 6 of these between us, with our luggage on the opposite seat. We have a little table, a mirror, a fan, a power point, blankets, drinks holders, even curtains. The air conditioning is bliss – it's the first we've had since we arrived.

The Indian man next to us chatted for a while and bought us a coffee. The ticket inspector eventually arrived and said that we each needed to pay an extra 25 rupees because we hadn't reserved a ticket in advance.

The porters that had carried our luggage on to the train and seat us had charged us 300 rupees (nearly four pounds) and we soon figured that they'd ripped us off big-time. Our fellow passengers and the ticket inspector confirmed this. Oh well, you live and learn – we didn't know much better but we sure will next time!

I don't think I've mentioned Indian toilets yet. Some places have Western style loos, but generally they are a stainless steel or ceramic hole in the ground, about 5-6” diameter with raised foot plates on either side that you stand on. You soon get used to squatting. Indians don't use toilet paper – each toilet is provided with a jug and tap for washing. We tend to carry a ready supply of loo roll wherever we go, not keen on the washing with your hand principle. The toilets on the train are particularly “interesting” as all waste simply drops out thru a tube on to the track (Dan says his mum would absolutely LOVE this!) There's a sign on the wall asking you not to use the toilet whilst in the station.

The scenery thru which we're passing is typically Keralan, with coconut palms, banana, mango and acacia trees. We've seen some of the biggest lagoons and backwaters of our travels so far – enormous expanses of water on both sides of the train, punctuated by only the odd one-manned fishing boat here and there. The waters look as though they should contain crocodiles and alligators, but apparently they don't.

The train is really comfortable – British Rail could learn a thing or two from Indian railways, particularly the fares. A similar length train journey in England would cost the best part of a hundred pounds and I wouldn't fancy my chances of being able to write anything on the Met line!

At the stations of big towns people get on with trays of food and drink. We've just had lunch – some roti (Indian bread) and some kind of mildly spiced sauce with potato and onions presented in a little plastic bag inside. Not too easy eating curry with your hands ( right hand only because here the left is reserved for toilet duties), but more than edible for a little under 20p each – better than British Rail food for sure.

There are quite a lot of cows in Kerala. We thought cows were sacred all across India, but Mani told us that's only in the north – in the south they're kept for both meat and milk. They all seem to be pretty well fed and cared for, mostly tied to trees at the roadside.

Ernakulum Town and Fort Cochin

We arrived at Ernakulum Town station amidst a torrential tropical downpour just as dusk was falling. (In fact it has rained for the last 10 days or so and we've seen very little sun – it tends to rain in the late afternoon, being humid and muggy earlier in the day. When it rains here it really rains – the heavens open and you can be drenched in moments. We've been told this is most unusual for this time of year.)

The station was crowded with people and we were the only Westerners here. It certainly didn't seem as friendly as Kovalam. We paused on the platform to dig our waterproof jackets out of our packs and made our way to the entrance where a large crowd of people was waiting for taxis. A tuk tuk driver came over to us and insisted that he would fit both us and our packs in the back. It would have been a long wait for a taxi, so we took his word for it and squashed in. He was right, we did fit, but only with my luggage trolley sticking into Dan's back.

What followed was the most terrifying tuk tuk journey we've encountered so far – the roads were flooded with water and in a very poor state with huge potholes everywhere. By now it was dark. We had no idea where we were going, or where we would be staying that night. Our Lonely Planet told us we should get a ferry to Fort Cochin which was apparently the old part of town, much more tranquil than Ernakulum Town. That seemed a good idea to us – Ernakulum was total mayhem – smoggy, smelly and dirty with throngs of people filling every metre of pavement, and the roads too. We'd arrived during rush hour and the main roads were blocked with traffic. Our tuk tuk driver fortunately knew all the back roads, but of course the condition of these was much worse than the main roads. Luckily, he seemed to know where all the potholes were as well, but there were times when the tuk tuk lurched frighteningly and Dan said to me “If it falls over, make sure you hold on to the frame at the top”. We made our way across town and the 7km we had to travel felt much further. Other vehicles were passing so close to the tuk tuk that I hardly dared hold on to the side for fear of getting my hand squashed. Big sprays of water came up either side of the tuk tuk – we were already soaked thru from the rain, so this wasn't much of a concern. At least it's still warm here when it rains.

After what felt like a frighteningly long time, the driver announced that we were at Fort Cochin. This came as something of a surprise as we had been expecting to take a short ferry ride. We figured that since our Lonely Planet is a few years old, a bridge must have been built in the meantime. He asked where we were staying and we told him to take us to the nearest cheap hotel. He dropped us off at Hotel Park Avenue in Princess Street and we left our packs in the care of the guys on reception while we went to check out some rooms.

First the guy tried to sell us an air conditioned room with a TV and hot water but this was going to cost 850 rupees a night – nearly a tenner. We told him we were looking for something cheaper and he led us up three flights of stairs to the floor where the smaller cheaper rooms are located. He offered us one for 350 rupees a night – that's more within our budget. To be honest, after the tuk tuk ride we were glad to be alive, and all we wanted was a bed for the night.

Indian hotel rooms

The rooms we've stayed in so far are simple and reasonably clean. All they contain is 2 single beds pushed together, a table and 2 chairs. Luckily we've brought our own mosquito net with us – there seem to be more mozzies here than there were in Kovalam. Strangely, none of the rooms we've stayed in so far have any covers on the beds. They have an under sheet, a pillow (generally resembling a breezeblock) and a pillow case, but that's your lot. At Kovalam we bought a beautiful embroidered bedspread with elephant designs and sequins all over it, so we don't need covers now. Perhaps they think it's hot enough not to need any covers. Mostly we don't but as the fan is running all night, it's nice to have at least something to keep the draught off your legs.

The bathrooms leave something to be desired. Hot water doesn't come as standard here unless you want to pay almost double the amount for a room each night. The bathroom is generally just a wet room with a drain in the corner. We're starting to get used to the cold showers – it's not so bad if you wash a bit at a time! Everything in the bathroom gets soaked when you have a shower though, so you have to get used to sitting on a wet loo seat. Still, all in all the rooms we've had have been clean and bright and we really can't complain for four pounds a night – we don't spend much time in them anyway. Luckily they all seem to have big ceiling fans – I think we'd have trouble sleeping without these as it really is very warm and sticky, no doubt made even more humid by all the rain we've been having. The last weather forecast we checked online showed 97 percent humidity and it really does feel that way – your clothes are stuck to you pretty much all the time.

19^th March – out and about around Fort Cochin – central Kerala

Lonely Planet says that there are 1.36 million people in Cochin. This older part of town where we're staying is thankfully a good bit quieter than that. It's an eclectic mix of medieval Portugal, Holland and an English country village, grafted on to the tropical Malabar coast. Definitely not the domain of the package holiday maker – although there are a lot of Westerners here, they're mostly backpackers much like ourselves and it's much less touristy here although still busy with souvenir shops and pavement cafes.

The mainland part of town is Ernakulum, where we arrived. Around this are several small islands linked by ferry. Fort Cochin is on the southern peninsular and we're close to the sea again.

This is very much a fishing area. Along the sea front are the most enormous Chinese style cantilevered fishing nets for which this town is famous. These consist of a wooden jetty extending perhaps 20 feet out to sea, on which are huge wooden triangular shaped frames holding enormous fishing nets. The wooden frames are counter-balanced with 6 or 7 hefty round rocks each, only held on by bound wire. It takes four or five men to heave each net up out of the water. There are maybe twenty of these nets and teams of men along the sea front. Health and Safety seems not to exist here and we were horrified to realise that the teams of fishermen stand directly under these huge rocks alll day lifting the nets in and out – surely there must be accidents.

The catch from the nets is displayed in (smelly) stalls along the promenade. You can choose which fish you want to buy and then take it to the restaurants to be cooked however you want it. There are squid, octopus mullet, snapper, barracuda, crabs and the biggest tiger prawns we have ever seen. We also noticed some bright green mussels yesterday, something we've never seen before.

Everywhere you go you are accosted by tuk tuk drivers offering to show you the sights of the town for around 50 rupees. This is something we'll take them up on tomorrow, but for today we just wanted to relax and unwind from our journey and have a wander around to get our bearings.

While we were having breakfast, a student from the local art college came to sit with us to show us maybe 500 traditional Indian paintings. These are beautifully painted in acrylics and vegetable dyes, mostly depicting traditional Indian scenes and Gods. We have been surprised that a lot of the sellers don't seem to know the stories behind the fables. We've been trying to find out why Ganesh has the head of an elephant but no one we've asked seems to know the story. We bought a couple of paintings on silk for our room back home.

The restaurants here aren't as geared towards tourists as they were in Kovalam. I've become quite used to having banana porridge for breakfast but they don't sell it here. I ordered toast, butter and jam instead and we usually ask for a pot of hot water to make our own tea – the English Earl Grey isn't running out yet so we're still treating ourselves while we can. My toast arrived as a jam sandwich LOL. Dan's scrambled eggs were good, but the bacon in India is definitely best avoided! We had trouble getting a stray dog to eat it the other day. We'd ordered a pot of hot water, 2 cups and some milk. What arrived was 2 tea cups of hot milk and no water. We managed to get our hot water in the end so didn't have to miss out on our tea.

They sell chai and coffee from big stainless steel urns on the back of a bicycle here. Both the chai (tea) and the coffee come ready mixed with about half and half milk and water, and enough sugar to rot your teeth in about a month, served in tiny paper cups. Although I can't stand sweet tea and don't generally drink coffee, both are curiously refreshing in this climate.

We found an amazing Malaysian restaurant for our evening meal, which was probably the best food we've had since we arrived. The curries here are amazing though, and it's a dream for vegetarians because there's so much choice on the menu. However it was great to have a change from curry. The fruit here tastes fantastic as it's all picked when it's perfectly ripe. We've easily become accustomed to our freshly squeezed fruit juice each morning and we had a fruit salad to die for at the Malaysian place. We've realised we need to be drinking more water than we have been doing up until now – it's very easy to become dehydrated in this humidity, which is something we don't want to do.

Our room is at the front this hotel. The Indians seem to go to bed when it gets dark (it's difficult to get a meal here after about 21:30) and get up at dawn (about 5am) so it isn't easy to sleep in the mornings. However, we do get the benefit of being able to see what's going on outside.

This evening there was a large procession of Christian Indian women in the street outside, with a tuk tuk between the 2 rows of ladies in their brightly coloured saris. They prayed and chanted and marched towards a makeshift altar which had been set up in one of the doorways. We THINK it could have been a funeral procession – there was a black wooden cupboard type affair on top of the tuk tuk which could have been a coffin big enough for a child. We'll check this out with one of the hotel staff who speaks better English when we get a chance. Most of the people here speak at least pidgin-English so we're managing to make ourselves understood without too much difficulty.

We plan to stay here for a few days. We're ultimately heading for Goa, but there's a few interesting-looking places along the way that we'll stop off at for a few days each. The sheer scale of this country takes some getting used to – we traveled for five hours yesterday, which equates to about one inch on our small scale map. The journeys are quite tiring and Goa looks a mighty long way away so it will be good to break up the huge distances by stopping along the way.

23^rd March – Easter Sunday

We will remember our stay in Fort Cochin as a very wet one. It has now rained heavily for around the last two weeks, for most of each day, the rain pouring from the sky in torrential bucketloads. We don't even remember having seen this much rain in England.  Indians keep commenting on how unusual this is for this time of year.

We're on the train again now, heading northwards up India's west coast to Calicut. Not such an interesting journey this time because the double glazed windows are filled with condensation and we can't see out. Still, it's nice to have the luxury of air conditioning for a few hours – it really is humid after all the rain. We're both suffering today with upset stomachs and cramps – we ate some prawns last night that maybe weren't good. Dan's having a sleep on the top bunk. We have allocated seats on the train, but someone else is sitting in ours and we're sitting in someone else's, next to two very well spoken ladies from Bombay. They're travelling all the way in one go and won't be getting off the train for another 24 hours – I can't imagine sitting on a train for that long, comfortable though they may be.

We're hoping Calicut will be a quiet, not a very touristy place where we can relax for a few days before moving onwards to Bangalore and Goa.

In Fort Cochin, we met another real character of a tuk tuk driver by the name of Sanju. We nicknamed him “Disco Tuk Tuk” as he's the only one we've come across with a loud sound system on board. His tuk tuk was done up with chromed trims everywhere and red leatherette interior and he drove us everywhere with music blaring. We were particularly amused by his Ferrari banners across the windscreen and the Roman chariot style spikes sticking out of his wheels.

We've decided that on the roads in India, absolutely everyone has equal rights. It doesn't matter whether you are a ten tonne truck, a cat, dog, cow, chicken, bus, bicycle, car or pedestrian, you will be treated with the same respect on the road. It's absolute mayhem, but amazingly it seems to work and we haven't seen even one of the multitude of near misses turn into an accident yet. Incredible! 

In India, the tuk tuk drivers make extra money from commission by taking tourists to expensive shops. For each tourist they take there they earn a certain number of points, and they're able to redeem these at the end of each month for petrol, T shirts, jeans, clothes.  We wanted to get some extra luggage straps made up yesterday to hold our little trolleys on to the backpacks.   We gave Sanju a limit of three shops to earn him some points as he was a great driver for us and didn't try and cheat us like most drivers . These tourist shops were interesting the first time round – full of amazing hand knotted Kashmiri rugs that can have anything from 200 to 1800 knots per square inch and cost up to 20,000 UK pounds (even in India), beautiful rosewood carvings and furniture, some inlaid with semi precious stones and jewels, others enameled with the most stunning patterns and designs. There are beautiful fabrics. A salesman yesterday was showing us some wall hangings which are like patchwork quilts. He said the fabrics used are off-cuts from the fabrics used for royal saris – some have intricate beadwork, others have precious stones stitched in, and still others are embroidered with pure gold.

Unfortunately the salesmen in these tourist “emporiums” automatically assume that because we come from England, we have huge amounts of money to spend. At one place they brought us complementary jasmine tea and asked us to sit down while they threw out a mind boggling assortment of rugs across the floor. The cheapest of these was around three hundred pounds, while the larger ones were almost ten thousand! We enjoyed the tea but weren't likely to be encouraged to buy anything! Anyway, Sanju was happy because we helped him to reach his quota of points for the month and he duly took us back to the luggage maker where we collected our straps with buckles – 2 of them hand made for 30p the pair! It will never cease to amaze me that you can have absolutely anything you like made in India.

We hadn't realised it was Easter weekend until we received email from home. We were surprised to find that just like at home, everything in Fort Cochin was closed on Good Friday. It was also a “dry day” which means that they are not allowed to buy or sell alcohol. Apparently they have these about once a month, usually on the day that the Indians get their monthly salary. A waiter explained to us that this is because the Indians don't drink very often, and that when they do, they get very very drunk, very easily and often become a menace. We saw an Indian in Covalum beach get himself arrested for the same reason. We didn't mind going without our evening glass of beer for a day – we treated ourselves to some chocolate and biscuits instead and retired to our room for an early night.

The oldest Christian church in India is in Fort Cochin – it was built in 1534 by the Portuguese.  We were amazed to see a double file procession which must have stretched for almost a mile around the town, gradually making their way towards the church. We're surprised how strong the Christian faith is here – apparently only 2.3% of the Indian population is Christian, but 75% of these live in Kerala and the south.

I've just been interrupted by a cafuffle of fussing men complaining that we are sitting in the wrong seats. The two ladies next to us told us to ignore them and said that it doesn't matter at all, especially since there's other people sitting in our designated seats. I'm quite glad to have this seat for the time being though, as it's right next to the power point and little table and sitting writing passes the time easily while we can't see out. This train is much busier than the last one we were on – we don't have the luxury of spreading out and our packs are piled on top of one another on the opposite seat. 

We refused to get ripped off by station porters again this journey, so it was our first real experience of having to manage with our packs. And boy are they heavy in this heat and humidity. The trouble is, we're having to carry around clothes for cold climates too – we have fleeces, long johns and thermal tops, which is totally laughable in this climate, but we'll be very glad of them when we reach China in the winter. Still, we've vowed to see what we can manage to send home from the next post office we reach.

Things at home are a bit of a worry. We had tenants move in on 17^th March and were told that they were a Romanian couple, which was fine by us. We've since had email from our next door neighbour, who said that on chatting with the woman whilst she was moving in, she mentioned that there would also be another Romanian couple moving in with them. We've emailed the estate agent and apparently they knew nothing about this either. This means that the tenants have broken the terms of the lease within a day of moving in – not good news. We have to trust that our agent will do the job we're paying them to do and advise us on the best way of dealing with the situation – there isn't a lot we can do about it from here.

Wednesday 26^th March – Bangalore

Well I'm glad little lappy knows what day and date it is – it's all too easy to lose track when you're all over the place and not keeping up with news.

Calicut proved not to be quite the quiet beach resort we were hoping for. We arrived there about 7.30 in the evening after a 5 hour train journey. It's difficult to get your bearings when you arrive in the dark. As soon as we came out of the station we were accosted by various tuk tuk drivers, all haggling to take us to the hotels where they get the best commission.

We asked for a cheap hotel near the beach and went off in a taxi into the darkness – there's no way I would feel safe doing this journey by myself – even with Dan it's a bit disconcerting at times, but you have to put your trust in someone.

The taxi driver took us to a hotel near the beach but as soon as we pulled up outside we could see it wasn't going to be in our price range – anywhere with a parking attendant in a peaked cap is going to cost more than we want to pay. Dan left me in the taxi with the luggage while he went in to find out about rooms. We were right – they were asking 1200 rupees a night and our budget is nearer 350.

So off we went in the taxi again to hotel number two, which the guy at the first hotel's reception had assured us was much cheaper. Unfortunately still not cheap enough, this time at 850.

We were told all the hotels near the sea were at least this price so at this point gave up on the idea of a sea view, especially since we were only planning on staying for a couple of days. On our third attempt we ended up at a hideous looking tower block type hotel a good ten minutes' drive into the heart of town

The taxi driver tried to charge us much more than we'd agreed to pay so we started our stay there with an argument in the parking area. In the end we compromised because we were too tired to row over a couple of quid after a long day's travelling and our first efforts at lugging round our backpacks. Dan's is around 20 kilos and I struggle with 16 or so. They're  going to take some getting used to carrying in this heat. We've already vowed to send some stuff home as soon as we can easily get to a post office.

We were pleased to find we actually had hot water for the first time in over a week. When there is hot water, there is a little boiler on the wall and a hot tap but the shower is still cold. You have to fill a bucket with hot water and wash from that instead. Still, hot water is bliss, and an opportunity to do some laundry. Our mosquito net gets strung from whatever fittings on the wall are strong enough to hold it and doubles as a washing line. It is possible to get washing done wherever we've been so far, but it's not that cheap – usually ranging upwards from about 12 rupees for a pair of socks – that's about 15p – so we prefer to do it ourselves.

Never mind the washing, a cold beer and some food were first priority so we headed out onto the town. We wandered for over 15 minutes and still hadn't found anywhere to eat or drink so we asked an Indian guy who was happy to show us the nearest restaurant in return for 50 rupees for a beer.

The first place he took us to was pitch dark inside and full of Indians. The owner told us we should go upstairs to the air conditioned family restaurant. We like to see what we're eating here so that was fine by us. Little did we know that this was the only place we'd find to eat or drink during our stay in Calicut and we'd be returning here two or three times a day. We never saw anyone else in there. The menu was extensive but in reality most of this was unavailable. It seemed ridiculous that they were unable to serve an orange juice when right outside the door were hundreds of stalls full of oranges! We considered buying a bag of fruit and emptying it on their counter each morning.

Calicut is a sprawling Indian town and we saw only two or three other Westerners during our stay there. It was noticeable that the locals spoke little English. Wandering around in the daylight, I was stared at everywhere we went and the one time that Dan left me alone to pop to a shop across the road, there was a traffic jam along the main road as every single vehicle stopped for a good stare. A bit disconcerting and not the most comfortable, but we didn't discern any hostility, just a lot of curiosity.

This was our first taster of an Indian town. It is hot, very smelly, noisy beyond belief and  completely filthy. There were huge numbers of fruit stalls all along the roads and we couldn't believe that it all got sold. One morning we wandered into the fruit market, which was absolutely piled high with all kinds of strange fruit and veg, some of which we'd never seen before – warty looking white things around the size and shape of a sweet corn cob, potato-ey looking things which we assumed were some kind of kiwi fruit, although not as we know them. We bought a couple of green bananas for one rupee each. There seem to be 3 kinds of bananas here – the usual yellow ones which tend to be small, but also red and green bananas. At first we thought these were different stages of ripening, but they all have completely different flavours and taste so much better than the bananas we know at home.

The smell of the huge pile of rotting leaves and old fruit in one corner overwhelmed the entire market. Although there were countless sellers, there didn't seem to be many people buying and we couldn't see how the locals managed to make any living here.

The noise in the town was absolutely unbearable – the Indians hoot at each other constantly while driving and this went on 24/7.  The smog was awful. It was very difficult to sleep. Our fan drowned out some of the noise but this cut out the first night after a power cut and we hardly slept at all. 

We took tuk tuks to the beach – a good clean beach about half a mile long, with lots of locals sitting in the shade under trees. Again no Westerners. And again lots and lots of staring. It would have been impossible to sit on this beach in a bikini, and simply too hot to sit there fully dressed. The sea here is very dangerous so we couldn't swim either although we did have a paddle and the sea was beautifully warm. We saw a couple of dolphins close in to the beach, only 70 yards or so, which was a thrill – never seen them that near to before.

We decided to ditch Calicut as soon as we could. It really wasn't what we were looking for and not in the least relaxing. Interesting, but very hard work. We went to the train station and booked a ticket on the overnight train to Bangalore which was a surprisingly quick and easy procedure. There were loads of people waiting for tickets, but we were seen to immediately. Don't suppose the Indians were too pleased by our preferential treatment. 

We knew Bangalore would be mayhem – it's India's 4^th largest city with some 60 million people, and well inland – there would be no escaping to the beach here. The journey was to take 12 hours by train and take us maybe another 3 inches up our map of India. The train was fine. We'd booked second class A/C (air conditioned) and shared a little “bedroom” of 4 bunks with 2 interesting and informative Indian guy's who were more than happy to talk to us about their country. 

We were caught out by the fact that the night train didn't serve any food or drinks and Dan dived off at a station stop to grab us some food. We slept from about 11.30pm. The train was dark and quiet and I had a reasonable night's sleep, but Dan is a very light sleeper and had maybe 3 hrs. We woke just as it got light to watch the last hour's progress into Bangalore. Houses and blocks of flats brightly painted for as far as you could see, this town is vast, massive. There were “shanty towns” on the outskirts where people lived under tent shaped tarpaulins with literally nothing.

Well, Lonely Planet said this was one of the most smoggiest cities...and they are right. We got a tuk tuk to town and were soon smothered in smog and fumes. The tuk tuk's have 2 stroke 60cc engine's (2 stroke is 4 star petrol part mixed with motor oil and chucks out serious smoke). The fumes flooding from hundreds of them weaving through the traffic soon starts to get in your lungs, up your nose, on your face and even puts a layer of it on your teeth! There is no system of monitoring fumes or MOT's here, that's for sure! 

By the time we reached town, we were coughing and rubbing our sore eyes, pretty harsh, Ventolin at the ready. Hotel's are more expensive here because Bangalore is an up and coming IT town and we settled with paying 700 rupees for our room, which is smaller than usual, but still clean and comfortable. The noise is worse than in Calicut and non stop. We dumped our bags and went for a walk. OMG, you have no idea how manic this place really is, its hard to describe. Everywhere you turn there is a sea of people trying to get somewhere in a hurry, thousands in fact. You can see the smog within a hundred yards and crossing the road can be a hazard indeed, at the least a real challenge, sometimes downright dangerous. At one point we waited for nearly 10 mins for a big enough gap in the traffic to chance a mad dash across 5 lanes of traffic. Past endless streams of bikes, tuk tuks and people, cows, dogs, buffalo pulling carts, people carts, just any imaginable transport you can possible imagine. There's a huge contrast between the bare-footed cart pullers and the smartly-dressed IT workers with briefcases tucked under their arms. 

Needles to say our main aim today was to book a train out of here ASAP, which we did. The tuk tuks here are supposed to use the meter by law, but show them a white face and they refuse to use it knowing they can make more money by pushing the prices up. Out of about 6 drivers Dan went to ask, none would agree to use the meter. Quite annoying, but we generally get a reasonable price in the end by ignoring drivers that quote a ridiculous price. Patience is a key quality when negotiating, so we generally take turns with this chore.

Not much to visit or see in this city without travelling vast distances, so we decided to visit the closer sights. One of the best things we found was a botanical garden at Lalbagh created by the English in the 1850s. This was a little piece of green heaven in amongst the chaos and definitely a place for regaining one's sanity in the mayhem. When you got far enough in, you could almost not hear the traffic outside. There were some amazing ancient trees.

For the first time in India, we saw monkeys, a whole pride of monkeys in fact, not sure what type, but what a fabulous treat. They were just roaming the gardens and trees as if in the wild. You could actually get close enough to touch (although we didn't for fear of being bitten). They were not spooked at all and simply sat there grooming, as if we weren't there. We both got some fabulous pictures. One mum had an adorable tiny baby, maybe only a few weeks old with very little fur and huge flappy ears, very cute.

Up a big staircase, a huge lake that must have taken ages to build as it was raised 20 feet above the main garden, like a UK reservoir. Many smaller lakes with hundred's of lily pads with flowers that sit out of the water a foot or more, some with carp and other species of fish cruising and jumping about. It was such a blissful place, an oasis, a huge relief in such a noisy city. You could almost believe that you were in England if it wasn't for the towering Australian trees and strange trees that we have never seen before, even in nature programs on the telly. Unfortunately our bliss was interrupted by a huge storm brewing not so far away and we decided to head back, we know how quick and ferocious the Indian storms can be.

1^st April - Hampi – Shanthi shanthi

Hampi is a place I can't do justice to with words alone – it would have to be seen to even begin to appreciate it. I guess it can best be described as an ancient Hindu civilisation. but it's  really so vast (approx 40 sq km) that it's comparable to Rome. The landscape is different from any we've seen so far. We've left the palm-strewn lagoons and backwaters of Kerala behind and are now in central Karnataka.

The most noteworthy part of the landscape here is the absolutely enormous rounded boulders which can be seen in every direction. There are literally hundreds of abandoned temples – every way you turn your head are ancient elaborately carved Hindu structures.

The empire was in its heyday from the early 1400s and came to an end in the late 1500s when it was invaded and pillaged by opposing neighbouring religious factions. The atmosphere has to be the most serene we've ever known and the spirituality of Hampi is palpable everywhere. The instant we stumbled off the overnight train from Bangalore at Hospet station, the stress and noise of the city was replaced by rural Indian tranquility in the early morning sunlight and our stress levels bottomed out.

We're coming to the tail end of the season here now and it is absolute luxury to wander around these ancient monuments in total solitude. We've been here maybe five days now, but it's so chilled that we've actually lost track of the date and even the day of the week!

The centre of Hampi is dominated by the towering pyramid-shaped Virupaksha Temple which stretches some 52m towards the sky. It is carved with intricate depictions of various deities from top to bottom. It's staggering to imagine the stonemasons of the 14^th Century working high above the ground in this fierce heat.

The Virupaksha Temple is the only one still used in Hampi for daily puja (worship). This takes place early in the morning and again at around 6pm. We took a wander over the other evening. The temple elephant is called Lakshmi (Goddess of Wealth) and we were fascinated to feed her bananas. If you place a one rupee coin in the nostril of her trunk, she bops you gently on the head to give you a blessing. Elephant hairs are very bristly to the touch!

We've so far spent 2 days investigating the temples and ruins, but it's been about 40 degrees Centigrade since we arrived here so that's no mean feat in the heat of the day!

We've decided that we're not in any hurry to leave here – it's such a stunning place and there's so much to see that we're going to take our time and maybe spend a couple of weeks here.

Our room is tiny and painted bright blue, with a pink mosquito net and elephant patterned sheets. It's in a little guest house right next to the Tungabhadra River and run by a very happy Indian family. We have a hot shower but there's no way of mixing cold water in and it's way too hot, so we're enjoying washing from a bucket of warm water instead.

All around the centre of Hampi are ancient stone buildings. It's astounding to see the local people living in these and continuing life around priceless antiquities just as they have done for the last 600 years. If this was England, each site would be fenced off with barbed wire at a distance of 100 feet.

Dan's had plenty of opportunity for fishing and as I write we're sat by the river in the late afternoon sun. The locals have been amazed by Dan's telescopic fishing rod and other fishing gear – they use a length of bamboo and a bit of nylon. Dan asked what the best bait here was and was given a bag of mixed dried cauliflower and rice by a local fisherman. Wherever he fishes he draws a crowd of people to come and watch. He's caught some small catfish, but we're hoping for something big enough for dinner soon.

Hampi is a sacred centre, and, as such, no alcohol is allowed within a 3km radius. Fancying a cold beer the other evening, we caught a tuk tuk to the nearest town and were dropped outside an Indian drinking hole. This was a small hot room, maybe 12' by 10', with a dusty floor and a bar along one side. One of the "barmen" was only about ten years old. We were shocked to see the Indians pushing, shoving and shouting to get to the bar first. They drank whiskies one after another, half a small bottle at a time, many of them very obviously with a serious alcohol problem.

We attracted a lot of attention as we stood in our corner with a cool Kingfisher, me in particular. Every male who came in stared at me in disbelief (it's taboo for women to drink here), but we detected very little hostility. Many of them came to greet us and shake our hands. We nearly ran out of tobacco as every man and his dog clamored to have us roll an English “beedi” (cigarette) for them. By the time we'd drunk our second beer, one of the owners began to get nervous of the attention we were attracting, and, very politely, asked us to leave, explaining that it wasn't a place for English.

I was ready to leave by then anyway – it certainly wasn't the most relaxing place for a drink, but nonetheless an eye-opening experience. There is absolutely no way on earth I would have been in this bar without Dan. (We've been telling people here who've asked that we're husband and wife – they don't approve of cohabitation in India so it's easier that way.)  I very much doubt they'd seen Westerners here at all before, let alone white women drinking!

Last night we headed out again, this time to the government run bar and restaurant at the KSTDC Hotel in Kamallapuram. I'm pleased to report that this was a far more civilized venue. We enjoyed a fantastic South Indian thali and a couple of Kingfishers (beer) each. Our tuk tuk driver Lingam sat with us and we treated him to a beer and a meal – just the one beer since he would be driving us home!

He told us he lives locally with his family of 5, including an ill mother, and that since he is the only one with an income, they all survive on his wages of 50 rupees (around 60p) per day. He rents a tuk tuk for three months of the year, which is an opportunity to earn more money, but spends the rest of the year labouring. He told us he is uneducated, having left school at the age of seven to work with an ox-cart carrying bananas to market for sale. People in the west really have NO business complaining about their standards of living!

The downside of Hampi, if there is one, is the extent to which it now revolves around tourism. Little stalls selling hippy tat and clothes are everywhere and it is impossible to walk down the street without being accosted by locals insisting that you need to buy a bunch of 10 bananas, or hire a rickshaw, can't live without some jangley bells, or simply must drink some coconut water straight from the fruit. This does, however, sometimes work in our favour – although we both love Indian food, neither of us has yet managed to enjoy curry for breakfast and here we've been positively reveling in banana porridge and Tetley tea!

I am becoming addicted to Indian bananas, eating at least 3 every day. By the time we leave India, I think I'm going to be looking like one of the temple monkeys! The taste is just amazing and nothing whatsoever like the gas-ripened excuse for plantain that cost us so much in England. A perfectly ripe banana here costs between 1 and 2 rupees (not more than 3p).

The Indian version of English is endlessly amusing – my friend PaulineM would have a field day. We saw a menu the other day offering “cornflux” and “pouched eggs” for breakfast.

We were suffering a little in the heat earlier today and asked a tuk tuk driver if there was anywhere we could swim. He told us about a wonderful lake nearby and we went off with him. Unfortunately, we were put off by the signs warning of crocodiles, despite a little kid's insistence that there weren't any! Are there crocs in India? We don't know, but we weren't about to risk losing a leg or worse. We'll stick to the river where all the locals swim and do their laundry (by beating it on the rocks) in future!

5th April - Hampi at Night

As the sun sets in India, the people come once again to life. The harsh heat of the day seems mostly to be spent sleeping in the shade. The “boy” at our guest house was to be found laying on the cool tiled floor one afternoon, his belly pressed to the wall to benefit from its (limited) cooling effect.