...at last I can fart again!

I have decided to grow a long white beard and speed through India like some insane portent of disaster driving women and children to weep and wail and grown men to huddle behind locked doors.

After my sister Paula (who still owes me a testemonial for my wonderful treatment of her during her visit here) departed carrying 32 kilos of gifts - thank you Paula - I spent one more night in Cochin and after finally receiving my authentic Motorcycle Owner Papers, I headed off to Varkala in the belief that once again I would be eating meat, albeit of a lower quality than I am used to but meat, red meat, delicious red meat!

Due to circumstances beyond my control I had to leave at 2pm which was pushing it a bit as I dont like to drive in the dark but I knew the road and I reckoned that I could make the 180kms in just over 4 hours and I was right,though I did have to forgo a photo op with an elephant which I hate to do, I made it just before dark. Arrived here tired, had something light to eat and went to bed happily. Spent the next day relaxing and reading (now that Paula has left I have no incentive to buy anything!). In the evening met a couple of honeymooners who I had met in Munar and we went out together nand of course I ordered steak. Well what I got was not exactly steak and it was badly burned but best of all it was off.

As I ate it I could tell that there was something wrong, it tasted wrong, it looked wrong but could I stop eating it? No way, and I ate it all to the bitter end. 20 minutes after the meal I started shivering and 20 minutes after that I was emptying myself haphazardly all over the place - I will spare you the gory details - in adittion I was in excrutiating pain and moaning like only a sick guy can moan. Some of my young friends here became alarmed for some reason at my absence and came to look for me. When they got no answer at the door they became even more worried and then with the help of Zamir, Yafit's dad, who somehow persuaded me through the window to let them in which I apparently did though I have no recollection of that or of next few hours as they rushed me to the local version of Sisters of Mercy Hospital. I vaguely remember fighting the the insertion of a IV (Which turned out to be a massive dose of antibiotics, so massive that I can see the two little sores I got in a most undinified fall in Munnar about 14 days ago). And then it was morning and I felt almost human. And Eyal and Inbal were with me all night in the hospital, they grabbed an hours sleep on the ground outside before making sure I was alive and kicking. And I was never alone, Yafit was there and Ziv was there and Eyal was there again and Shai was there and if I have forgotten anyone "Mia culpa". And if Yafit hadn't bought me a pair of shorts I wouldnt have been able to leave the hospital, I do have some dignity! So I love you guys.

The hospital is reminiscent of Tel Hashomer in the early 50s but 50 years back again. Everything is very basic and I believe that if the guys had not brought me food I wouldnt have gotten any. I guess however that the medical staff are competent because here I sit at the computer typing this bullshit (no Freudian). It is the non medical side that is more interesting, I was an instant tourist attraction, they came in their droves to gape and gawk and stare, usually from behind the door but at least one guy brought his three kids into the room and they all stared at me while wagglig their heads in the Indian way and smiling inanely. I smiled and waggled my head back at them for about 5 minutes but then gave up in exaustion, they continued for another 10 minutes without uttering a sound and then got up and left. Then there was the baba who said he identified with me because the moslems had tried to kill him too. And the student nurses of both sexes who came in 3s to stare at me (which is weird because girls usually travel in pairs). They seem awfully young.

So I will not be eating meat again till I reach Nepal!

Our story continues, at some stage of the prehospital proceedings somebody called "Habait Haham (The warm home) which is an Israeli organization funded by the government and some anti-drug organisation which does great work with kids who "Flip out" - mitfalpim - OD on something or other and they follow the Israelis in their migrations from north to south and back again trying to help the "mitfalpim" get home again. So the next thing is that my son Roy gets a call from the foreign ministry or the embassy in Delhi suggesting that he get on the next flight to carry me home - I still don't know where they got his number, did they call all the Barels in Israel till they found one who would admit me as his father? Well I understand that that upset Roy who is quite used to my foibles and eccentricities by now and he and Paula got in touch with cousin Ariel in Goa who got the number of the hospital and still shaking from the after effects of my desperate illness I was called to the phone to hear cousin Ariel and 30 minutes later again to speak to Paula.

Romours of my demise are greatly exaggerated - I mean me mitfaleping, it aint gonna happen!

I will not be meat again till I reach Nepal!

Zen and the Art of Riding a Motorcycle in India - Part 2

Okay, I know I have written about this before (thats why its part 2 dummy) but I have now been driving for and a half months a bit more and I am more aware of what the whole thing is about - Zen course, with a smidgen (kortov) of thown in!

It is important to mention the animals first, and there are many animals of course; dogs, pigs, monkeys, an elephant! Chickens, crows, and of course the ever present supreme ruler of the road and anyplace else; The Sacred Cow! Cows have automatic right of way, after all, they are holy. And they take their right of way, they walk into the middle of the road with no consideration or care for vehicles of any size, shape, direction or speed. Sometimes they just stop in the middle of the road and in the early morning they are often found to be sleeping on the road as it is apparently warmer than not-road. You either have to wait for them to move - which may not be this week, or you can try to manouver around them which is not always easy with oncoming traffic. The Indian drivers are less considerate of the cows than most Westerners and bear down on them hooting loudly which the cows of course ignore. Somehow though, we do all manage to get round them and continue on our way. The dogs are in many ways worse than the cows which although they are sacred, are also terribly stupid and cowishly ignorant that anything is going on around them. The dogs however, seem, unlike dogs everywhere else, treat you the driver with absolute disdain and ignore you deliberately obviously hoping that as you near them you will panic, lose control and end up at the side of the road in a burning wreck - well that is the impression they give (as an aside let me say that it seems to me that the mdogs, usually reffered to as "pariah dogs" are becoming increasingly feral and in a couple of generations India will be flooded with their own homegrown variety of dingo - thats only my opinion of course but who knows the wonders of nature - the fuckers can be really agressive at night when you are alone). And a week ago on the road from cochin to Munnar we were passed by a work elephant dragging a log through the center of town (Don't ask how it passed us!).

Okay, now we come to simple rules of the road - traffic lights, stop signs, circles, right of way, driving on the left, policemen! All recommendations - you should never feel obliged to obey them - the Indians dont! As you drive along with your Israeli (Yes, even Israeli) driving habits of more often than not obeying the law, you are lost, you are non existant, are dead in the middle of the road! If there is a policeman around he will often look amazed that you are obeying some stupid rule such as keeping to the left lane even though the right one is empty! And if you are a traveller from a land where people do not look Indian and do not speak any of the 13 (!) local languages or 200 odd dialects you do not want to be involved in an accident - you are automatically to blame, no need to discuss this, its your fault because you are so very rich! You may get to a traffic light which is green and find that you are the only one who cares as other drivers cut you off from every direction, you may be driving along a highway (and I only call them highways because the locals do - some of them are like a back road leading to the back of beyond on the road less traveled) and you will meet a bus barreling down your lane as he overtakes a truck on a blind hairpin turn and all you can do is get off the road and hope there is a hard shoulder.

And of course there are roadsigns, generally those giving directions will be in English, not all the time of course but enough to help you (with a measure of Zen) to get to where you are going. But that is not enough so i will give you a couple of examples; two nights ago we arrived from Kottayam to Aleppi by ferry the tale of getting the Enfield on and off the ferry would be a chapter on its own and a picture being worth a thousand words I will try to send one) after dark when I dont usually like to drive as the Indians have to positions on their light switch, bright and off and they use them both at night. but we had been recommended a hotel by Uri ( we met him in Cochin where he had come to make sure his daughter was not having too good a time) and even though we were offered hotels nearby I insisted on going to Uris hotel, after all, he is an Israeli! (Never trust the recommendation of an Israeli over 30). So we phoned and they had an empty room and we were in. But where was the hotel? Oh, about 13 kms from here, just get on the National Highway and then turn left and ask. And I did, and without one wrong turn and after much twisting and winding and avoiding homicidal and suicidal Indians and negotiating a goat track on the banks of a river and all this in the dark we were there (and despite my recriminations against Uri it was a charming place with awesome food for my sister Paula, not for me) but it was not suitable for a stay of less than a week. how did I get there, I am certainly not the worlds best navigator. Zen!

And today I wanted to buy stamps so I hopped onto my trusty Enfield, drove about 3 kms and stopped by a ricksha driver (they know more about how to get there than almost anybody in the country and asked him where the post office was, he pointed behind him and there it was, right behind him. There you are, the big Z again.

the other kind of roadsigns, those that tell you about the condition of the road are almost non-existant. from time to time, after doing 50 kms on a winding, badly maintained, narrow mountain road with no signs at all beyond those selling expensive saris or gold jewelery or women's underwear, at the end of a long, straight, level stretch of road you will suddenly see an internationally recognised sign for a curve and nothing further for the next 50. I could live with that but all the signs extorting you to 'not drink and drive', 'speed kills", 'drive slow, arrive safely' etc are in English and very few drivers here can actually read English.

Two days ago I had a breakdown, the gas cable snapped and Paula (my crazy sister who has been riding around with me for the last two weeks) slowed quickly to a halt. Luckily I had spotted a "2 and 3 wheeler garage" a short time before so leaving Paula to guard the bike I hopped a ricksha and went back there. I told them what had happened and one of the mechanics put on his shirt, wrapped a bunch of tools in a newspaper and accompanied me back to the bike. After opening it half up he agreed that it was the gas cable and we, the riksha, the mechanic and I set off to find one. The first place didn't have it so the ricksha-wallah and I went to another place which had it (I bought a spare as well - you never know and at 25 rhp you cant go wrong). When we went back to collect the mechanic he wasn't there but we found him 50 meters down the road looking at the bike of a large Indian gentleman who turned to me and said, and I quote "Actually it was me who ordered the mechanic, he only tended to you because he saw you on the road as he was coming to me" I looked at him and smiled - You stupid lying fucking wanker! Do I look that stupid? Okay maybe I do but there is no call to take advantage of me. Anyway the mechanic couldn't do much for him there and taking his (the liar's) battery we were off to poor Paula again and 20 minutes and 120 rph later we were happily on our way again.

I leave it to you.

Travels with my sister

I am now in Thekkady in Kerala at the Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary with my sister Paula who came to India to ride around for two weeks on the back of my motorcycle. She must be mad.
It is a cold and dirty day, the first I have had since arriving in India and we got up at 6 in the morning to catch the first tour boat at 7AM. We did catch it and spent a freezing 2 hours sailing around the park on a dirty old tourist boat but we did manage to see a few animals, some boars (of both sexes and all ages), a deer, a bison and 3 jackals tearing apart the carcass of a dead deer and the trip was calm and the scenery breathtaking (forgive me if in the continuation of this I use that word again but the last few days have been filled with breathtaking sights) so despite the cold a good time was had by all. Tomorrow we are going trekking and rafting through the park and we will definately take jackets!
Before coming here we spent 3 days in Munnar which is due east from Cochin but high up in the mountains and is a major tea growing area. The drive from Cochin to Munnar took us from the teeming city of the coast on a long winding, climbing road to high up in the mountains where it gets really cold (I ended up buying a jacket! Me, who never feels the cold). As we were entering Munnar I saw Gali (from Hampi and Cochin) by the side of the road and she sent us to the Aida hotel which was lovely with a great view out into the mountains and tea fields (fields?) which are breathtakingly beautiful even when you notice the tens of Indian women bending over and doing backbreaking labour so that we can all have our cuppa when we feel the urge, in fact they even add a certain rustic, pastoral beauty to the whole scene. Yup, thats what they do, add romance, I hope they never find a way of doing it mechanically
On the way from Cochin the view was breathtaking and we met our first close-up elephant who was a working stiff, it was pulling along a log right through the center of a little town. Along the way were many beautiful homes but one stood out, they kept a pet elephant! I would love to have one too.
From Munnar to Thekkady was just over 100 kms but it took us about 5 hours due to both the difficulty of the road - narrow winding, climbing, descending, potholefilled and various traffic coming at you from all directions at all angles and at sometimes death defying speeds. But the route was magnificent and we stopped often to take pictures! And more pictures! And then still more pictures. Of course when I print them out to put in albums I no longer remeber wher they were taken!!
Today was a shitty day for me, we booked and went on a bamboo-rafting and hiking tour through the reserve and I saw no bllody animals except for one deer and I was expecting to see elephants frolicing along the river banks or at the least doing the dance intro for The Simpsons show. Nada, nothing, zilch, I was screwes, I wanted to see elephants. I suddenly felt sympathy for all those Americans who stand there yelling "But I paid to see elephants (pigs, cucumbers, pine tres, factories or whatever). I thought that if I was paying the Indian equivalent of two weeks worth of a working mans wages, at the very least I should see one lousy pachyderm! I will never go to another Indian game resrve, never.
Tomorrow we are off to Kollayam to visit and cruise the famous backwaters of Kerala.
Wait for the next exciting episode - I will be back.