Home and Dry

After all the rain and humidity I’ve had to endure in the last week, getting back into a sunny warm mainland Europe was to say the least, a tremendous relief. The sight of the station sign in a German railway station, with the magic name ‘Plzen’ clearly displayed, told me that I was going to be home in little more than 1 hour.

The trip has ended, a trip that was just a bit too demanding. Although I was feeling very well until just after leaving Kerala, the early morning arrivals and numerous sleep deprived nights had taken their toll. I realise now that getting out of a train as early as 4am is not a good way to begin a day. If I do anything like this again, the arrival time will have to be at least after 9am.

The Sun Temple, Konark, Orrisa

The 2008 monsoon had been a slow starter but when it finally arrived it was a very powerful one. In the early part of the trip I managed to avoid the floods and train delays south of Calcutta. Crossing India to Kerala from the east coast was extremely wet in places but the train arrived in Ernakulam (Cochin) on a bright rainless morning. Apart from a few heavy showers, my stay in Cochin and the days in Alleppey were dry, if not rather hot at times. On reaching Delhi, the rains caught up with me and then the sogginess set in, lasting until the final day in Shimla where everything was drowning under the weight of water falling from the skies. The final week was not at all pleasant for me.

However, the trip as a whole was a success with many high points that will leave me with some good memories. The day spent in Allahabad when I was treated to a tour of the university, the Nehru House and a drive around the countryside. Another memorable day was the tour of places in Orissa such as the Jaganath and Sun Temples, and then to the beach at Puri. My short visit to Madras took me to Fort St George where the British involvement started in India in the early 17th century. And then there was Kerala, the place that welcomes you like an old friend. For many it has all the charms of a tropical island. Even though it is part of the Sub-Continent, it is uniquely different from the rest of India. As I think I promised sometime ago, I have made a short movie about this fascinating Indian State.

So that’s it. If you have any comments to make or would like to know something please use the comments link on this page. The movie above is also on http://www.youtube.com/DelzWorld and I expect I will be adding more movies soon.

Weather Better - Heading Home

19th Aug. This is a totally off the cuff effort as I haven't been able to to use my computer for a few days now. Its got a problem most likely related to moisture, but still working with some funny tricks up its sleeve. Anyway, reading between the lines you should deduce that it rained rather a lot up in them thar 'ills.

By the time I reached that famous hill station 4 days ago, I was feeling like death. The never ending rain, which only ceased yesterday, and the constantly enveloping clouds made Shimla a very uncomfortable place to exist in. Everything was getting damper and damper, including the bedding. It was definitely one of the worst periods I have ever had to endure in India.

On the third day I started to get a bit better and decided on an eating day since there was little else to do. You might find it hard to imagine, but I kicked off with a breakfast of sausages, eggs and chips. The restaurant is a few shops from the Domino Pizza emporium. By now my constantly waterlogged feet were just about dissolving, and the computer couldn't put up with it either.

When I left yesterday it was a dry and sunny day, which is also the case here in Delhi today. A far cry from 5 days ago when it was wrapped in a yellowish warm mist and raining hard. Lots of places flooded up the NW at that time.

The trip is all but over now and by tomorrow morning I hope to be in Helsinki and onto Munich. Cheers Derek

On The Way to Delhi

The Ajanta Caves

Aug 10. With the end of the Alleppey boat races, the mad dash north to Delhi began. On the way stopping at Jalgaon so that I can see the Ajanta caves. The overnight to Mangalore was more or less on time and the same can be said for Mangalore to Mumbai along the fairly new Konkan rail route which follows the coast. In the morning some 200 km south of Mumbai the monsoon clouds blackened the skies and it was lashing down all the way. I think the train pulled into the terminus to the east of the city of Mumbai at about 10.30. I decided then to take an earlier train, heading for Varanasi, which started at 12.15.

To the east and south east of Mumbai, all trains have to climb up the hills called the Western Ghats and if there is a lot of rain all these routes can be badly affected. I suppose I was lucky as there was only one place that caused a really serious delay, although all the way from Mumbai train was steadily loosing time. All the way up the train passed gorges with raging torrents and over swollen rivers. About a kilometre before a station near the top of the Ghats we stopped for perhaps an hour. Judging from the water flooding over half of the tracks in that station I think they had logistical nightmare getting all the trains through this small junction just below the central plain of India. By this time I was getting concerned about finding a hotel in Jalgaon so late in the evening. This is almost always a problem. But it was resolved with a simple mobile phone call to the Hotel Plaza in Jalgaon, using the number given in my guide book and the phone of one of my very kind India travelling companions who would be arriving home in Varanasi somewhat later. So three and a half hours late, at just after 10.30pm, I had booked into the hotel close to the station and was looking forward to my first shower since the previous morning.
Jalgaon is not a particularly pretty place. For a sizeable city it seems a bit backward with a very low level of English and restaurants that cater entirely for Indians. I say this is a bit odd because many tourists pass through on the way to Ajanta, just as I have. Anyway, as planned, I went to Ajanta in the morning and then continued to Delhi on the train that same evening.

Aug 16. As you can see there has been quite a jump in time. Arrived here in Shimla yesterday feeling horribly ill. It’s a very bad cold that’s been brewing up for days and the type of cold that I usually get at the beginning after a week or so in India. This time felt very healthy all way until reaching Delhi. Anyway, I think I was very lucky to find a room yesterday. The 15th is India’s Independence Day and a national holiday. It appears that the whole of middle class Delhi has moved here for a few days, pushing up prices and reducing available rooms to a minimum. Once again at the Hotel Classic where I stayed 2 yrs ago and he remembered my face. Without going into too much detail, this had a decisive effect on his choice of guest for the room.
So now in cloudy and rainy Shimla and then later this week back to Delhi to fly home. Its been a difficult week or so, since leaving Kerala. The absence of good internet conections has made this particular blog a bit of a marathon. However, hopefully its ok now. Cheers Derek

Shimla

Kottayam to Alleppey (Alappuzha)

Fri Aug 8. After yesterday’s successful skirmish in Alleppey I thought that things couldn’t go as easy today, but the very loose plan worked perfectly. Getting up at a reasonable time I was out of Cochin on the ferry to Ernakulam at 11am. On the long walk along the waterfront I could see the faint spider like outlines of the Chinese fishing nets in the distance, and the leafy tropical shore of Fort Cochin. These are the sort of times when I bid my farewells to the places that will always remain among my special memories.

A rickshaw carried me the rest of the way to Ernakulam Town railway station, with no fuss about the cost of the fare. An express train took me to Kottayam in one and a half hours and then another stress free rickshaw took me to the ferry jetty. Just two minutes from the jetty are a couple of fairly new hotels which would have cost at least a 1000Rs a night in Cochin, but here in this sleepiest backwater of the Backwaters it is less than half that price. So I am staying at the Comfort Inn and eating at the hotel restaurant next door. So now in a perfect position ready for the masses who are already invading Alappuzha, for the 56th Nehru Trophy Boat Race. As planned a while ago, I will be getting on the 7.15 ferry to Alappuzha and then, by 10.30 I should have stowed my bag in the left luggage room at the railway station, and then it’s off to the races. One small piece of information about Kottayam is that here in 1952 Pandit Nehru, the first PM of India, took the trip down the Backwater to Alappuzha and suggested holding this annual event.

During that evening at the Kottayam jetty I was just looking around when a well dressed guy standing by his car gave me some useful information. I had already asked about the ferry time at the hotel, but this very well spoken informant gave me a time 15 minutes after 7, instead of 7am. Not really thinking about it too much, for various reasons, I believed him. The next morning at 7.05 I was told at a tea shack that the ferry had left and the next at 11.30. It’s not hard to imagine how I felt. I knew that for some reason of his own, this misinformation was meant to prevent me from getting the govt run ferry. ‘Govt’ is the key word here, I think from what I learned about this very affordable service, it was probably the reason for the deceit because there are elements who want it cancelled so that the privateers can take it over, given the background of a fast expanding tourist industry in Kerala.

Once again my philosophy that everything is possible in India was justified when the tea stall owner had an idea. Being the day of the snake boat races there were a lot of companies attending, promoting their various products. The one leaving from Kottayam half an hour later was to be a boat hired by AMAR toothpaste, on which of course room was found for me and my bag.
Problem solved.

So it was that AMAR dropped me off very near the start of the 1.4 km course. I must admit that I wasn’t sorry to be back on dry land as the 15 or so AMAR employees were becoming increasingly drunk on that small overcrowded launch with its badly beaten drums and dancing toothpaste boxes. One of the culprits for the state inebriation was a stop at a Toddy Parlour. Toddy is a white milk like drink made from coconut which I think is more intoxicating than they chose to believe and after having a glass of this surprisingly refreshing, slightly bitter, drink I could easily see how easy it must be to imbibe more than one intends.

The day was a hot one but I felt that I would have to find one of the prime spots I had seen two days earlier and stay put. When the racing finally began I was already feeling somewhat exhausted from the sun. Each race consisted of 4 boats of mainly two types; 50 and 100 seaters. Like any other large sporting event, a commentator gave a constant update on the progress of the boats while the crowds roared encouragement.

The sight of 4 of the larger boats ripping through the water neck and neck, amid clouds of spray from 400 hard thrashing paddles, was indeed awesome. The heavy wood on wood thuds of the rhythm beaters standing near the middle of these long sleek vessels and the long practiced chants from the crew made it all an incredulous sight to see. The last final ended and it was time to get to the railway station and onwards head north to Mangalore, through Goa and to Mumbai. The day at the wacky races will be another of those memorable times of this trip around India.

A Wacky Day at the Races

The bus ride to Alleppey wasn’t so much the adventure I had expected it to be. Two busses from here in Cochin saw me there in 2 hours. And then about the cheapest and nicest breakfast I’d had in a while at the bus station in Alleppey.


The reason for such an early start was to be able to do a bit of recognisance so that I could find a good spot to watch the Nehru Cup Race on Saturday. Not only did I manage that but also I managed to have a particularly enlightening and enjoyable day. A lot of things happened which would take too much time to write about but there are a couple of things to tell.

I soon found the finishing point of the race where some large stands have been erected. I followed the race route back to the start and it was there that a guy had just parked his motorbike. I got chatting to him and found out that he was an army officer going to his home about half a km behind the starting point. He invited me to go with him and without much to do till I would have to leave and return to Cochin, I accepted. To cut a long story short his home was only a little distance from the training camp of one of the racing crews and I had some lunch with them. Not exactly small crews here; about 115 men per boat.
After that I was taken back to the starting point in a perilously small wooden canoe, a decision made in a moment of madness. Couldn’t help worrying about my cameras, no problem getting to the side. Then I watched some of the crews doing practice runs and the antics going on amongst all the other craft that were cruising up and down the backwaters. It was all pretty noisy but quite a scene and there was even a floating car promotion accompanied by a bunch of drummers.

That’s all for now. This is another shorty because I need to get to bed soon and I don’t think I’ll have many opportunities for any blogs for a few days now.
cheers derek

Paradise Found Again

waterfront of Ernakulam

Since my arrival in Cochin I have settled very quickly into a not exactly unpleasant rhythm of life here. I think every time I come here it becomes the natural place to settle back and reconstruct my battered and sapped brain. Even for all the new developments in Fort Cochin it is still the peaceful hideout that it has always been, and will be I hope for the foreseeable future. As you can imagine, my travel plans have changed a little to allow a little more time than I originally intended ; the trip to Kovolam has been well and truly cancelled and I’ll be heading towards Alleppey for the Nehru Cup boat race on Friday.

Lets get down to the mundane everyday problems. Yesterday, the batteries in my camera suddenly violently discharged causing the camera to get very hot. No harm to the camera thankfully but when I put them in the battery charger, the charger went incredibly hot and ceased to function. So today I went over the water to Ernakulam on a quest for another charger. After a few disappointing trys I did in fact find just what I wanted in rather a flashy airconditioned Nikon establishment. But for a fast charger I think the price wasn’t bad. I also got another small bargain tripod to replace the one I lost in Mysore.



The walk back to the jetty took me along the waterfront lined with boats, ice-cream parlours, shopping malls and masses of mobile phone shops, not to mention the occasional requisite beggar. The day’s excurssion went by pretty seamlessly with a stop off for dinner at the waterside restaurant I was in last night after the show at Greenix complex.

Applying Kathakali makeup

Even since I was here last, two years ago, there are many changes: new plush hotels, restaurants, business meeting complexes and the inevitable higher prices. One such development I went to last night is the Greenix Village complex. It seems to be encompassing everything including a cultural program and facilities for business functions such as conferences. Last night, and every night, there was a three hour showcase of traditional Kerala dancing, Kathakali story play (miming to drum beats) and a spectacular display of an ancient local form of martial arts (Kalarippayattu) in which swords or long spears are flashed around at incredible speeds. As you might see a band of majorettes twiddling batons between their fingers, these guys do the same thing with a five foot long spears.

There will, connections permitting, be a few movies about this State of culture but I have included a quicky about facial expressions used in Kathakali performances so that if I manage to upload the real thing you might get some idea what this well publicised art form is all about.

Kathakali facial expressions

As you can see, life gets tedious here in Cochin. Had to get myself a new wad today. Looks great but only lasts about 10 or 12 days. (10,000 Rs about 160 Euro)

Trichy And The Waiting Room + Cochin

In India, it seems the class system has never gone away. In fact it appears to be flourishing. Since my last trip here two years ago, facilities at the railway stations have reached a standard equal, if not better, than most other rail networks in the world. During my travels I have come across some exceptional upperclass waiting rooms, while the lower class ordinary ticketed people still have to put up with some pretty abismal conditions. People may think that a railway waiting room is nothing to get excited about but in India where myself and countless Indians spend a large amount of time, the waiting room is all important. In talking to a fellow tourist in Orissa, he recommended the Upperclass at Vizak station. This was pretty good, with air conditioning that after a day touring in a bus it had a great revitalizing effect. But however, here at Trichy Junction station, I think I may just have found the ultimate in waiting rooms. It is less than 6 months old with a perfect marble tiled floor, attractive matching armchairs and sofas, and what is almost unbelievable, the toilets are spotless complete with blue flushing. The shower would be an asset to any home while the centre piece of the room is a large substantial circular dining room table with a complete set of 6 chairs. The whole thing is crowned by a chandelier suspended in a shallow dome in the ceiling. I would guess that this kind of opulence would be hard to find anywhere.

That’s enough about waiting rooms, may there be many more, and now I have at last reached Fort Cochin. Crossed the sea at about 6.45 and got myself a fantastic room. Its not a room as such at all – it’s a separate bungalow in the garden of Walton’s Home Stay where I stayed 2 years ago. Won’t say anymore as I think you’ll see enough in the vid. Must find a broadband connection now. http://waltonshomestay.com/index.html

Cheers from Derek

Long Days and Short Nights

Maybe I should have thought it out a bit more carefully, but just lately my itinerary has been slightly flawed. For example, I arrived in Chennai at 4.30 in the morning. It is a difficult time to do anything, especially when you find the only decent waiting room in Chennai Central station completely chock-a-block with sleeping passengers. So there wasn’t anything else to do except get out of the station at about 7am. My mood was not the best, as you can see from the picture!

fruit in Mysore market

The days before, up in cool and pleasant Mysore should have been relaxing. This was the case for the first day when I arrived but the following day I took on an arduous 12 hour tour from 8.30 to 8.30 in the evening. It finished at the Brindavan gardens, which are below the walls of a very large dam. After the sun goes down all the waterfalls, fountains and miniature rapids are lit up. Then there is the musical fountain at 7.30, strangely dancing to Bollywood favourites. Anyway, a hard day made much more bearable by the company of Jenny, a fellow traveller from New York. Two other places were the zoo and Mysore palace which I had seen in the darkness of the previous evening. I expect you guessed right; it was a Hindu priest blessing a proud owner’s new car. If he has an accident I suppose its money back. Closer to home, or hotel, is another Mysore attraction. It is the large highly colourful market where Jenny bought some perfumed oil from a very precocious junior salesman of 12 years.

Rally in Madras

Mysore zoo

outside Mysore market

Mysore Palace

The early arrival in Madras was responsible for my being seen entering the gates of the old St George’s Fort with the early morning workers. It is in fact almost completely occupied by the Indian army who have converted most of the inhabitable historical buildings for various sections of their army. But it was easy to see that the purpose built colonial structures once were the headquarters of the East India Company which started in Madras and the British Army. In those days long ago, the British Empire was in its infancy, in the 17th century. St Mary’s Church is the oldest Anglican Church in India with some rather grotesque tomb stones from the late 17th century. They depict what I presumed to be the skeletal form of the ‘great reaper’. However, the more recent memorial plaques are dedicated to members of the British Army, and some civil servants, who died in the service of company and country. In an amble along some of the back lanes I was struck by the multitude of birds kicking up quite a racket in the trees above me. Very nice actually. On the way back to the station I came across a highly excited crowd attending an ever popular political rally. The din was deafening; I think I prefered the birds in the trees.

canon at the fort

I should have got off the train at 5.20 (2nd Aug) but slept so soundly I woke up not long before the train came to the end of its route. Trichy was by then about 90km back down the line. But everything turned out fine as I only had to wait an hour before a train arrived heading back to Trichy. By 11am I had secured a room in the Ashby hotel, which happened to be my first choice from the Lonely Planet guide book. Now its 1pm and I have had my ration of fried eggs and toast and almost my entire minuscule wardrobe is now hanging up in the courtyard drying.
cheers Derek

The Monsoon Has Struck

The monsoon has hit Mumbai at last. It’s well over a month late and started raining 4 days ago. The heat that I have been sweating through during the trip as far as Bhubaneshwar has now been replaced with a comfortably warm damp air but not a hint of the sun. The rains arrived in the east before I got there and caused cancellations of trains due to damaged bridges south west from Calcutta. None of that affected me but now this late rain in the west has meant that my train going south from Mumbai was going to be late by well over 4 hours. Consequently, because of missing connections later, I took the first available train to Bangalore where a train to Mysore starts from. The 30 day Indrail pass is invaluable in this situation because I don’t have to wait in queues to buy a ticket and no reservation has to be obtained as there is a quota for pass holders. Just jump on the train and ask the ticket inspector to find a berth for me. EEEasy.

Shopping, or is it consumerism, has caught on in all the major cities of India with the emergence of the shopping mall. I popped into one on the way to the railway station. I needed a shirt as both my tee shirts were getting to be unbearable. As you can see, some quite modern equipment has been implemented in ‘Big Bazaar’, as it is called.














Tuesday 29th July.
MysoreFeeling pretty tired and happy that the train journeys have finished for a couple of days. Since I left Vishakapatnum last Saturday morning, by bus, I have covered over 2,500 km by train. But now in the hotel Dasaprakash in Mysore. I reached here on a slow passenger train from Bangalore in about 4 hours which was enough to finish this phase of the trip. Even that was made much more bearable as I travelled that part with a Thai girl who was on the train from Mumbai, not to mention the three little cheeky faced kids sitting with us.
Had a great journey from Mumbai with six great travel companions in my part of the carriage. Three of them were business guys, two working for a British company. Then there was a kindly old lady going to visit her daughter in Bangalore and opposite her bunk was an extremely elderly gentleman who bore all the hall marks of being one of the freedom fighters who fought for independent India all those years ago. One of my Indian comrades suggested he was a rich farmer but we never found out who was right. The other was of course the Thai girl learning English here in Mysore.
Yesterday evening was a great social occasion as we chatted about everything from bombs to cooking curry. I suppose not much difference really; the latter has a somewhat slower slightly less violent reaction. I don’t feel particularly threatened by these bombings as India is a very big place and the likelihood of being caught up in such a blast is very remote. However, if they strike at the railways it could cause some hold-ups that could interfere with my tight plans. The other inconvenience could be the heavy rains in this part of India. But still, in 3 days time the situation will probably be quite different, hopefully not worse.
So, now making myself at home doing my usual chores such as washing clothes and getting all my batteries up to scratch. Mysore sits at about 2,400ft and the temperature is around a very agreeable 23/24 degrees.

After filling myself with a badly needed meal I took a stroll down to the palace about a kilometre away. I wanted to get some night shots which would have been considerably more spectacular if the thousands of electric light bulbs had been lit. Alas, it was Tuesday and display is only put on when it’s Sunday, and only for one hour. The reason for this is that a huge amount of precious energy is used. But I did spot something rather odd happening at a small temple outside the gates. If you can’t guess what is going on I’ll illuminate you with the answer in my next blog. Cheers Derek

PS 6am and in what promises to be a hot oppressive day in Chennai

Araku, and back, to civilization

Vishakapatnum (Vizak) and Araku

With hardly any sleep from Bhubaneshwar, I was shortly on the 6.50 am train to Araku. To add to my misery I was desperately hungry through not eating during the tour the day before. It’s a very scenic ride through countless tunnels and bridges for over 120 km. At the end of the 5 hour journey I was just about done. Not knowing anything about the hotels in the area I accepted the help of a taxi driver who promptly took me a couple of kilometres up the road to a small cluster of buildings and hotels surrounded by paddy fields. I don’t know why but I was expecting sky high prices, the first hotel looked fine and the price was a very reasonable 300 Rs a night. Wow…Time for washing, eating, sleeping and battery charging.

As you might imagine, by the pictures of Araku, it’s an agricultural area. It’s also a tribal region where the Indian Govt is trying to educate and create employment for these poverty riddled people. The atmosphere is to say the least, after the turmoil and chaos, placid to the extreme. One or two things stick out in my mind like the incredibly overloaded rickshaws. Many carry school kids to and from their homes. A multitude of small brown faces, in white uniforms, stared out at me from the sides and back of these little vehicles, while at least ten school bags hung in a cluster like giant coconuts from one side of these taxis. It also seems that most of the rickshaws are now fitted with boom boxes, those speakers otherwise known as sub woofers that send out a throbbing bass beat of the music being played. Apart from this modern development, the villagers around lived their lives herding buffalo and goats, and tending the delicate dykes that retain the water in the patch work of paddy fields.

It appears that the Araku valley is the chosen place for honeymoon couples, not unlike many other hill resorts. As I said before, hotels were an unknown quantity until I actually arrived because the only information I could find was that there were only a few highly priced places and a government run resort also with prices way above my budget. In fact, not 2 or 3 km from the train station there were quite a few low priced places. Apart from the scenery and fresh air there isn’t much else, but that was all I wanted for a couple of days. I don’t think the place I stayed at has an address except Railway Station Road, Araku Valley. Judging from the small collection of very new luxury hotels I surmised that the Indian boom is having an effect on this idyllic, rather backward, backwater.

Before reading the egg story I would like to explain that fried eggs with toast is a very common breakfast in India, but not in Araku it seems
To be a fried egg or not to be is a very tricky question.
Here in the restaurant at Araku. Ordering a breakfast, which is normally very straight forward, turned into a complete fiasco when I ordered fried eggs just as written in the menu. At first the waiter said it wasn’t possible, which I thought strange because he could supply an omelette. But then he relented and said it was possible. When the eggs arrived they were in the form of four halves of brown shrivelled fried hard boiled eggs. I’m afraid the sight of these abominations nearly turned my stomach. When I told him that I didn’t want his burnt offerings, and that I wanted ordinary fried eggs, he then decided that poached egg was what I wanted. Well, the conversation went to and fro for the next five minutes in which I clearly showed him the difference between boiled and fried eggs with drawings in my note book. He then said that what I should have ordered the poached eggs. But poached eggs are not fried eggs I tried to impress. The whole absurd issue was settled when I opted for the omelette, but I am still completely mystified as to what a fried egg is. I suppose this is typical of India where IS can often mean many things. Confused, don’t worry, that’s just the way it is. Or is it

The cinema, yes there was a cinema, was showing a Bollywood movie in Teligu language. When I was a kid we used to call the small independent places ‘flea pits’, which is more than apt for this one in Araku. During the first half, they seem to have interludes here, I was aware of itchiness around my legs and ankles. Mosquitoes I thought so I didn’t bother with the end of this typical song and dance routine. Back at the hotel I discovered a large mozy had attached itself to my leg. Not pleasant.

I had to catch the 8am (only) bus back to Vizak because a serious problem crept up on me – a dire lack of Rupees. The train wouldn’t have got me back until 9 pm which is obviously a bad time for changing money. The other thing was that it was Saturday and half day for all banks. This is a good example of the kind of problems that one can encounter in India, especially because in many towns, and cities, the only places available are state banks which seem to have a vice like grip on these otherwise simple transactions. While I was on the bus, travelling through some pretty remarkable countryside, I felt another kind of problem creeping up.

By midday the bus was strutting down the long station road of Vizak. Then I spotted a sign for State Bank of India so I quickly grabbed my bags and hopped off the bus which was held up in a traffic jam. My heart sank when the bank assistant said that they didn’t change money at that branch. This often happens. He then told me to go to an office for a financial company two blocks up the road. The office of Weizman Ltd is inside one of those new complexes that are shooting up everywhere in India. I hesitantly asked if they changed Euros, and found to my great relief that the rumour was true. But that still left me with the other problem which was solved not more than 10 metres from the office, behind a door on the corner of the landing. Feeling extremely relieved with a fresh wad of 100 Rs notes I wondered if the manager knew where I could upload my blog, which had been a miserable failure up in Araku. Another company just a few metres away allowed me the use of their private (fast) connection. Somewhat better than two birds, d0nt you think? Anything is possible here.
Plenty of time for writing today on the train to Mumbai. The 1500 km trip takes about 28 hours. Only one drawback is that I have to finish this blog before the battery runs out. No sockets in this carriage, which are usually fitted in AC carriages.
Half way to Mumbai at the moment. Cheers Derek