Ahhhhhh....what a difference a day makes!
Maybe it was the relief in getting out of Kollam or the excitement of going back to Fort Cochin, I'm not sure but I couldn't keep the grin off my face all day. I had my first encounter with the Indian Railways and was very impressed indeed. There appears to be about 6 different classes in which you can travel on a train in India, the lower ones are rammed to the roof but being a sophisticated lady, I chose to go posh, well as posh as was available. 1st class was either fully-booked or non-existent (the latter I think) on the 13.50 from Kollam - Kochi. I did try to get the crappy hotel to book me a ticket but along with a hundred other false claims, they didn't actually have a travel desk. Failing that, Sanoj at Travelogics did the booking and I showed up well in time in my tuk tuk at the station waving my e-ticket. (India is not entirely living in the dark ages)
My first impression was that the station was remarkably clean, I had half expected there to be the odd homeless person lying around but spotted none. The place was crowded but not chaotic. Passengers were waiting patiently in areas with sufficient seating, watching TV. Information was a bit scarce, the screens were all blank. I couldn't help thinking "South-West trains". However, unlike the abysmal train services in south-west London, there was a helpful station manager on hand who directed me to the correct platform. Good job I got there early, as the train would depart from over the bridge. I had to tackle a mountain of steps carrying my crutch, pillow, back pack and heavy suitcase. Step by step I started to ascend only to be interrupted on around step 6 by "Would you like some help ma'am?" (That's ma'am as in ham, not marm as in harm). I accepted gratefully and gave this man a great big smile. Indians don't smile enough so I consider it my mission to get people grinning one way or another. They don't get my jokes so I have resorted to doing Skype impressions, pulling funny smiley faces. It was tough with my helper but eventually, I got him. He didn't even need to cross the bridge himself, he just felt sorry for me. Once on the platform, he handed me over to another unsuspecting passenger who would help. Ah, bless, what lovely people there are in the world.
The train arrived on time. Unfortunately, it was 18 carriages long and I was waiting where carriage no. 16 pulled up. My carriage? No. 1, right at the front of train. I had actually worked this out all by myself but helper no.2 didn't think it was necessary to start making a move to the head of the platform before it arrived. An all out sprint ensued. When I say sprint, that means walking with pace, kind of 2 levels before jogging. I don't jog. I had no idea where my new friend was sitting but it wasn't in carriage "A1, seat 31". He carried my case to my seat and disappeared before I could make him smile.
My seat was a bed, complete with pillow, sheet and blanket. The air-conditioning worked wasn't too cold and it wasn't too hot, a bit baby bearish really. No one was sat/sleeping next to me,opposite me or across the aisle from me for the entire journey. This was the way to travel. The toilet was clean and didn't smell and the gentle motion of the train was soothing making it all very easy to relax. We pulled into Ernakulum Town station only 20 minutes late which I think is a bit of a result for a journey scheduled to be 3 hours and 25 minutes long. No bridges to be tackled, built or burned but a long walk down the platform to the exit and the taxi rank with drivers ready to pounce on the affluent white woman. I had the taxi drivers in stitches and the tuk tuk drivers doing incredulous dances as I started doing impressions of Sachin Tendulkar with my crutch - I was in that kind of mood.......
The 15km taxi drive from the train station to The Poovath Heritage Hotel in Fort Kochi was the same price as the train ticket - 350 rupees. I shouldn't be surprised though, a taxi to Schiphol airport from central Amsterdam costs the same as a one-way flight to Yorkshire. I was delighted to be back in this unique place, as quiet as a small village but with endless restaurants serving the best food in Kerala. I had skipped lunch so as soon as I had checked into my room with it's huge, fabulous bathroom, I nipped round the corner to a restaurant called Oceanos. I devoured a delicious dinner of a healthy portion of prawns in a thick tomato and coconut sauce and a couple of chaphatis for mopping up purposes. For the first time since 1982, I fancied something sweet and ordered a desert of spiced ginger cake which was heavenly, all washed down with some fresh ginger and lime juice mixed with soda. 375 rupees. I noticed that the restaurant does daily cooking classes. I am praying as I type that my back will enable me to do this.
I like the hotel and it is the first one I have stayed in that offers free wi-fi in the rooms. It even works! There's no hot water but seeing as it's stupidly scorchio outside, barely dipping below 30just sit, relax and watch the sun go down with all the locals separated by a fence which prevents them pissing and chucking rubbish into the hotel grounds.
It's hardly surprising that the first thing I did today was to hire a bicycle. 3 days for 2 1/2 yoyos and I have a basket! Yet again, it's great to be back on a bike. I pootled around, looking at trees today which I hadn't noticed the first time around. The rain trees which line a couple of the roads are very old and very impressive. Apparently they are even more spectacular in the wet season when they produce pink flowers. I tried to get into the Army base down Rain Tree Avenue (not it's real name), asking the guard on the gate if he could teach me to fire missiles but his sense of humour was sorely lacking and he even banned me from taking a photo of the sign outside the gate. Spoilsport.
Last time I was here, I had a good laugh with some not very hard working staff at one of those lovely outdoor restaurants with plastic seats and a vague menu. I returned and one of the lads remembered me, indicating my skin was almost as dark as his. For the uninitiated, Asian people do not understand why white people want to get a suntan. Fair skin is a sign of affluence and is considered very beautiful. Sod that, a tan (within moderation) makes you look and feel healthy and for the 2nd time on this trip, I was asked today if I was a student so it obviously makes this middle aged, retired, old lady look young too!
Maybe it was the relief in getting out of Kollam or the excitement of going back to Fort Cochin, I'm not sure but I couldn't keep the grin off my face all day. I had my first encounter with the Indian Railways and was very impressed indeed. There appears to be about 6 different classes in which you can travel on a train in India, the lower ones are rammed to the roof but being a sophisticated lady, I chose to go posh, well as posh as was available. 1st class was either fully-booked or non-existent (the latter I think) on the 13.50 from Kollam - Kochi. I did try to get the crappy hotel to book me a ticket but along with a hundred other false claims, they didn't actually have a travel desk. Failing that, Sanoj at Travelogics did the booking and I showed up well in time in my tuk tuk at the station waving my e-ticket. (India is not entirely living in the dark ages)
My first impression was that the station was remarkably clean, I had half expected there to be the odd homeless person lying around but spotted none. The place was crowded but not chaotic. Passengers were waiting patiently in areas with sufficient seating, watching TV. Information was a bit scarce, the screens were all blank. I couldn't help thinking "South-West trains". However, unlike the abysmal train services in south-west London, there was a helpful station manager on hand who directed me to the correct platform. Good job I got there early, as the train would depart from over the bridge. I had to tackle a mountain of steps carrying my crutch, pillow, back pack and heavy suitcase. Step by step I started to ascend only to be interrupted on around step 6 by "Would you like some help ma'am?" (That's ma'am as in ham, not marm as in harm). I accepted gratefully and gave this man a great big smile. Indians don't smile enough so I consider it my mission to get people grinning one way or another. They don't get my jokes so I have resorted to doing Skype impressions, pulling funny smiley faces. It was tough with my helper but eventually, I got him. He didn't even need to cross the bridge himself, he just felt sorry for me. Once on the platform, he handed me over to another unsuspecting passenger who would help. Ah, bless, what lovely people there are in the world.
The train arrived on time. Unfortunately, it was 18 carriages long and I was waiting where carriage no. 16 pulled up. My carriage? No. 1, right at the front of train. I had actually worked this out all by myself but helper no.2 didn't think it was necessary to start making a move to the head of the platform before it arrived. An all out sprint ensued. When I say sprint, that means walking with pace, kind of 2 levels before jogging. I don't jog. I had no idea where my new friend was sitting but it wasn't in carriage "A1, seat 31". He carried my case to my seat and disappeared before I could make him smile.
My seat was a bed, complete with pillow, sheet and blanket. The air-conditioning worked wasn't too cold and it wasn't too hot, a bit baby bearish really. No one was sat/sleeping next to me,opposite me or across the aisle from me for the entire journey. This was the way to travel. The toilet was clean and didn't smell and the gentle motion of the train was soothing making it all very easy to relax. We pulled into Ernakulum Town station only 20 minutes late which I think is a bit of a result for a journey scheduled to be 3 hours and 25 minutes long. No bridges to be tackled, built or burned but a long walk down the platform to the exit and the taxi rank with drivers ready to pounce on the affluent white woman. I had the taxi drivers in stitches and the tuk tuk drivers doing incredulous dances as I started doing impressions of Sachin Tendulkar with my crutch - I was in that kind of mood.......
The 15km taxi drive from the train station to The Poovath Heritage Hotel in Fort Kochi was the same price as the train ticket - 350 rupees. I shouldn't be surprised though, a taxi to Schiphol airport from central Amsterdam costs the same as a one-way flight to Yorkshire. I was delighted to be back in this unique place, as quiet as a small village but with endless restaurants serving the best food in Kerala. I had skipped lunch so as soon as I had checked into my room with it's huge, fabulous bathroom, I nipped round the corner to a restaurant called Oceanos. I devoured a delicious dinner of a healthy portion of prawns in a thick tomato and coconut sauce and a couple of chaphatis for mopping up purposes. For the first time since 1982, I fancied something sweet and ordered a desert of spiced ginger cake which was heavenly, all washed down with some fresh ginger and lime juice mixed with soda. 375 rupees. I noticed that the restaurant does daily cooking classes. I am praying as I type that my back will enable me to do this.
I like the hotel and it is the first one I have stayed in that offers free wi-fi in the rooms. It even works! There's no hot water but seeing as it's stupidly scorchio outside, barely dipping below 30just sit, relax and watch the sun go down with all the locals separated by a fence which prevents them pissing and chucking rubbish into the hotel grounds.
 |
| Another sunset |
It's hardly surprising that the first thing I did today was to hire a bicycle. 3 days for 2 1/2 yoyos and I have a basket! Yet again, it's great to be back on a bike. I pootled around, looking at trees today which I hadn't noticed the first time around. The rain trees which line a couple of the roads are very old and very impressive. Apparently they are even more spectacular in the wet season when they produce pink flowers. I tried to get into the Army base down Rain Tree Avenue (not it's real name), asking the guard on the gate if he could teach me to fire missiles but his sense of humour was sorely lacking and he even banned me from taking a photo of the sign outside the gate. Spoilsport.
 |
| A rain tree and a goat outside the Army Base |
Last time I was here, I had a good laugh with some not very hard working staff at one of those lovely outdoor restaurants with plastic seats and a vague menu. I returned and one of the lads remembered me, indicating my skin was almost as dark as his. For the uninitiated, Asian people do not understand why white people want to get a suntan. Fair skin is a sign of affluence and is considered very beautiful. Sod that, a tan (within moderation) makes you look and feel healthy and for the 2nd time on this trip, I was asked today if I was a student so it obviously makes this middle aged, retired, old lady look young too!
 |
| Cool tree |
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