Travelling Tim

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April 30, 2005

Haflong, Hill-Station of Assam

A change from the normal 2nd class, I booked a seat in the air-conditioned chair-car on the Shatabdi Express to Lumding Junction. Chair Cars, as the name suggests, are coaches that have nothing but reclining single seats, and are quite comfortable. Food is served from time to time, and a moderate amount of hawkers fill the gaps with any snack the traveller might require. A night in the retiring-room of Lumding station followed - these are rented rooms at most railway stations in India; always good value, and very convenient when breaking a journey, though this one did have rats in the bathroom! However, they kept to their side of the door, and I kept to mine, so there was no confrontation. In the morning, I changed from broad gauge to metre gauge for the journey to Haflong, 23rs. The train was all 2nd class, and stopped at each little station and halt along the way. Even when going, it barely exceeded a gentle trotting speed, and so took 6 hours to cover the 80 or so kilometres, but as with all Indian train journeys, there is always someone to chat too, many things to look at, and frequent small snacks of bananas, peanuts, tea etc. to pass the time.

The scenery made the slow trip worthwhile, though, with excellent views of the North Cachar Hills. The route went through much forested jungle, including a vast amount of bamboo; millions and millions of them. Much is harvested and trucked to Bangalore, for the incense industry - an amazing distance to travel on these roads, considering the route taken north to Guwahati, then south through the West Bengal corridor before even Kolkata is reached.

The weather had changed recently, and I had my first experience of monsoon weather. The pressure on the barometer drops very fast, then the rain comes down in an absolute torrent. Sometimes it clears quickly, whilst at other times the clouds and rain continue for longer, if not at the same monsoon-intensity. This evening, a wind got up as well, and the temperature plunged to a chilly 68 degrees Fahrenheit.

My first hill-station of the trip, Haflong. It is the only hill-station in Assam, and set in very pleasant and scenic surroundings. Though not as developed as other, more well-known hill-stations, it is still an interesting place to visit, with a small central bazaar or market-area, and many hill top views of the surrounding valleys and hills. It has just one hotel, the 'Hotel Elite', as the Assam Tourist Lodge is presently commandeered by the military, of whom there is a high presence in the area, to combat the threat from local terrorist groups.

Once the rain had cleared and the sun came out again, I walked into the hills to get a better view of the surroundings. As is usual off the 'beaten track' of tourists, everyone is as curious about me as I am about them, and I had a number of pleasant conversations with local residents. The children love to have their photo taken, especially when they can see the result instantly on the screen of my digital camera.

Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on your point of view, there is a big presence here of Christian missionaries, especially the Welsh Presbyterians, who have achieved the astonishing result of an almost 100% conversion of the locals. With the current falling attendances of English congregations these days, it may not be long before the Assamese start sending missionaries back to the UK!

The roads out of Haflong have been washed out for over a year now, and the government seems in no hurry to get them repaired, so the only alternative is the railway, which for me meant another 5.5 hour journey on the ridiculously named Barak Valley 'Express'. I arrived after dark in Badarpur, and found a small lodge for the night, before an early start for the bus journey to the state of Tripura, and its capital Agartala.

There is still quite a bit of terrorist activity in this area, especially in the mountainous Langtarai region, so buses and trucks have to travel in a military convoy that sets off at regular intervals. The buses and coaches all pack together, and move at a slow rate, dicatated by the slower trucks. The army drive up and down the convoy in their Mahindra jeeps, and station men along the many hills and outcrops. The journey was uneventful, I am happy to say, and we arrived at Agartala sometime after dark.

Posted by travellingtim at 02:30 PM

April 25, 2005

Journeying to Jorhat

On the road again, by bus from Tezpur to Jorhat. I got a seat in the front driver's compartment again, which is very convenient as there is somewhere to keep an eye on my luggage, and the all-round view is always good. Of course, the seats aren't as comfortable as in the back, and I keep getting visions that this is the place that gets crushed first in an accident, but all in all, its the place I like to be.

The NH37 Jorhat road passes numerous Tea Gardens along the way - they are so attractive and restful to the eye, with their uniform bushes, all of which get picked by hand every 7 days throughout the season. The larger trees are there to provide shade: tea is actually a shade-loving plant, and prefers the midday sunlight to be cut by 50%.

We passed through the Kaziranga National Park, where we saw a wild elephant feeding near the road. As is always the way, I grabbed my camera too late, but got an excellent picture in my mind, for future viewing. What a shame I can't share it with you, though. At one point we passed an alfresco furniture market, apparently well away from any town or village, selling hand-made beds, tables, coat-racks etc. Quite why it was there, I never did find out, but quite a few vehicles had stopped to inspect the wares, so perhaps it wasn't in such a strange place after all.

Other tea-related information: the bushes are grown from cuttings, and take 5 years to grow to a stage where they can be picked. Their productive life carries on for a further 30 years. Tea-processing takes place on the day of picking: the leaves are first dried slightly, a process that takes 12-16 hours, known as 'withering'. The leaves can then be rolled, cut to size, and then 'fermented' - actually this is an oxidisation process, where humid air is blown through the vibrated leaves. They can then be fully dried to 97.3%, and finally sorted through a series of 6 mess-filters to extract the various grades of tea.

Not too many accidents seen today, despite the hair-raising driving tactics employed by many. Quite a few truck-breakdowns though, indicated in the standard way by placing stones around the stricken vehicle, and poking odd branches of greenery that warn oncoming traffic that the truck has stopped. Most of these breakdowns are trucks, and the reasons are usually the same: overloading. Here the truck has a broken half shaft: the driver and his two assistants will be expected to fix it themselves. No 'AA' or 'RAC' here !

On arrival at Jorhat, I booked into the Assam State Tourist Lodge: a single room with attached bath, private balcony, and colour TV for 168rs a night, or about £2 sterling. Some of you have been asking to see what I actually get for that kind of money, so here are some photos. The first shows the room itself (actually a twin, let for the single rate) with the balcony door open. The second shows the bathroom, with its marble floor, tiled walls, squat-toilet in the Indian style, and wall mounted shower head. Rather than a separate shower cubicle, the shower just empties onto the sloping floor and out through a drain in the corner.

I took a ferry to Majuli Island, the largest river-island in the world, though it is eroding at an alarming rate. The small ferry boats squeeze a surprising number of passengers on board, both down below in the seated area, and on the roof. I chose the latter, for its excellent views and fresh breeze, though there was rain on a number of occasions that morning. Luckily, I had my 'Moss Bross' umbrella with me, and shared its shelter with three other friendly travellers.

The two photos below give a quick glimpse of the rural life on Majuli Island, with its rice paddy-fields and small huts. The first shows someone's outside toilet - I included it for the wonderful view that the users must enjoy. Below, a local woman sets off by boat to market. There's a good view of one of the huts on stilts, and the water-pump in the foreground.

Posted by travellingtim at 02:17 PM

April 22, 2005

Wandering in the City of Blood

Out of Guwahati, through slow-moving traffic jams, and along roads being re-surfaced in the Indian way, with lots of people and few machines. The hard-core arrives as bolders, and is broken up by hand and hammer. Sand is added by wheel-barrow, and levelled by spade. A road-roller finishes the job, before barrels of asphalt are heated over open fires fuelled by wood, then mixed with gravel and shovelled on to the surface.

I arrive at Tezpur, a quiet rural town, despite having a name that translates as 'City of Blood'. This gory title derives an ancient battle in Hindu mythology, fought in the Fort of Fire, or 'Agnigarh', now a pleasant park set on the ancient hill that overlooks the Brahmaputra River; the fort, if it ever existed, is long gone.

Indian parks are usually well-maintained, as gardeners are affordable here. Much thought goes into structure and form, and this was no exception - well planned, and a pleasure to visit. These giant mushrooms provide a welcome source of shade, and I liked the design of this rubbish bin, attractive to children, and well-used.

The other park in Tezpur, the Chitralekha Udayan, is also well laid out around a large lake, and is a popular place for people to stroll in the evening. There are many trees, often labelled for identification, and some amazing scented flowers and bushes that take the breath away. Statues, ancient carvings, even a swimming pool with water slides are available for the children.

Posted by travellingtim at 06:27 PM

April 21, 2005

To the High Place of Sacrifice

I booked into the Tourist Lodge, run by the Assam Tourist Association. These lodges are usually good value, and this was no different: a pleasant twin bed room with attached bathroom and private balcony for 220rs per night, or just under 3 pounds sterling. Last time I'd stayed here, the large Assamese flying cockroaches kept me running about, but this time they were no where to be seen. Perhaps they can sense the weather: on one evening, there was a huge thunderstorm with spectacular lightning display. I sat on the balcony, watched the lightning show, and listened to a programme on rural development from the local radio station.

My default-beard was getting a bit thick, so I sought out the local barber for a shave. I must have been the first foreigner that the young barber had dealt with, and he was rather self-concious, but did an excellent job with the standard cut-throat razor in use all over India. He shaved me twice, just to make sure the job was well done, and only charged 10rs.

Besides the Umananda Temple, its other, more famous brother is the Kamakhya Temple, about 8kms away. It is situated on a large hill overlooking Guwahati, and a bus takes you right to the top. The temple is very special, and is said to 'support' all other temples in India with its power. As befits such an important place of worship, it is dedicated to not one god but two; Shiva and Kali. The latter has her own sacrificial area; once humans were put to the sword here, but these days a procession of rather sorry looking young goats meet their fate, and the swordsman, when one is requested.

As expected with such an important temple, the queues to get in were very long, so I bought a ticket that enabled me to shorten the wait by a couple of hours. Once inside, there was still an hour's queue that snaked slowly past various shrines before descending into the womb-like inner sanctum, and its holy relics. The temple was built in the 17th century, in Assamese style, with immense inner pillars to hold up the huge roof. Inside, the stone-work has been blackened over the ages by the many oil lamps used for lighting and for worship.

The temple closes for lunch at 1pm, so I made my way back to the shoe-counter to reclaim my sandals, then past the many offering shops to the entrance. Rather than rush back to town, I decided to walk down the mountain; an excellent choice as it turned out, as I had a chance to slowly enjoy the spectacular views over the river, surrounding countryside, and city of Guwahati. Every now and then, a train snaked its way along the valley floor; its loud horn echoing up the hillsides to merge with cries of the Kites that wheel and circle in the thermals. At one point, I stopped for a rest, and a chance to eat my snack of coconut biscuits. As I was enjoying the view, a pack of 8 or so monkeys sauntered by. Only in India !

Posted by travellingtim at 04:17 PM

April 19, 2005

Night-train to the Land of Tea

Its been a few days since my last posting, so here is the latest news. I caught a train back to Kolkata - the view above is the interior, for anyone wondering what Indian trains are like. This is an A/C Chair Car, and is very comfortable - it even has reclining seats. At Kolkata I boarded the 5959 Kamrup Express for Guwahati, in Assam; a journey that takes over 24 hours. India is a very big country. For this journey, I had an A/C sleeper berth, and spent the time watching the scenery go by, chatting to other passengers, and ignoring the constant stream of vendors and hawkers that made their way up and down the train selling everything from tea and food to sari, electronic games, bedsheets, and much, much more.

Unlike other trips I've made to India, especially those where I was researching for Footprint Books, I have decided to go at a much slower pace this time, and wander about spending time looking at everything I encounter. Guwahati, on the banks of the mighty Brahmaputra River, is an ideal place to start a visit to the North East, and although parts of the city, especially around Paltan Bazaar, are very hectic with huge crowds and traffic jams, other parts can be quite laid-back and restful, especially in the parks, and down by the river.

My first day was spent wandering along the river, and taking a trip by ferry to Peacock Island, home of the famous Umananda Temple, and the older Chandrasekhar Temple. The ferry takes about 10 minutes to cross the swift currents of the Brahmaputra, for a fare of 10rs return.

Here is a typical sight outside any Hindu temple in India: a stall selling pre-prepared offerings that the pilgrim will take in to the temple as part of the ritual performed by the temple priests.

The older Chandrasekhar Temple, with typical Assamese 'beehive' dome, was built in the 15th century. I often wonder, in old holy places of whatever faiths, how many people have worshiped here over the ages, and how their lives turned out. Some holy sites have a real aura to them, that can be felt quite easily, and this temple showed that to me, though the next door Umananda Temple didn't have the same feeling for me. Other places I've felt this include the Temple of the Emerald Buddha in Bangkok, the burial chamber in the Great Pyramid at Giza, and a few small country churches in England. Its as if the walls ooze prayer and devotion.

I wandered around Peacock Island admiring the great views of the Brahmaputra and the surrounding hills and mountains. Sat for a while on the rocks by the shore, chatting to other visitors to the island. There was a lovely breeze blowing down the river which was very welcome even though the temperature here is about 5 degrees less than in Kolkata.

Posted by travellingtim at 04:14 PM

April 17, 2005

Santiniketan, a university-town

I have been spending a few days in Santiniketan, the West Bengal university town that is better known as the home and ashram of the Nobel-Prize winning poet, Rabindranath Tagore.

It is a pleasant town, on quite a small scale, with a large area dedicated to the university campus. The feeling is one of space and meditation, with many trees, parks, and gardens around the town. The buildings have an interesting feel to them too, as they were designed to be above mere functionality, but were to introduce beauty with function - one of the important tenents of my life too.

In keeping with this idea, there is much art and sculpture to see all around the campus, and many students visit from overseas to study here. There are special buildings where inter-cultural activity takes place for countries all over the world, though this is more in the winter time, when the climate is better.

As the town is quite spread-out, I engaged a cycle-rickshaw to take me about. We visited various buildings, galleries, and workshops in the area, and then went to see the Deer Park, a large area of woodland that has over 300 spotted deer roaming about. They are quite small, but the males have antlers. It was very pleasant to wander about the park and sit under the sal trees, watching the deer.

The weather is very hot at the moment, and never seems too go under 90 degrees Fahrenheit. At lunchtime, it is often over 100 (or 37.4 degrees Celcius, if you prefer). I am using my umbrella as a parasol these days, and very effective it is too. Many people use umbrellas in this way, some even managing to ride a bicycle whilst holding one!

The Bengali New Year was on the 15th, but it did not seem to encroach much into the locality. I was expecting fireworks, mass gatherings, and drinking, but it did not seem to happen, in public at least. Quite a change from Diwali, when enough fireworks are let off to start a small war.

Posted by travellingtim at 11:42 AM

April 12, 2005

Visiting the Belur Math and the Dakshineshwar Temple

I thought I'd combine a bit of sight-seeing today, with my favourite pastime in Kolkata - riding the ferry boats on the Hugli River. First though, I needed to get some railway reservations for the next leg of my journey at the Eastern Railways Tourist Office, at Fairlie Place. Although on the same side of the river as me, Fairlie Place was quite a walk from Sudder Street, so the ideal solution presented itself, a ferry boat from Babu Ghat to Howrah, then another from Howrah to Fairlie Ghat.

The tourist office is a sea of calm and tranquility compared to the normal Indian Railways booking facilities at Howrah - Indian Railways really try their best to make travelling easier for their foreign visitors - something other countries should copy !! There are even special 'Tourist Quotas' on many trains, so a last-minute booking is often possible on a train that is otherwise fully booked for some days in advance. After a short wait on the comfortable sofas, my request was speedily and competently dealt with, and the tickets I needed booked for my next journey.

Back across the Hugli River, my next question was how to get to the Belur Math, a large temple complex to the north of Kolkata. I asked the question to a fellow passenger on the ferry, Mr Rupen Chatterjee, and as is so typical in India, although actually going to the station, he took the time to escort me to the Bus Stand, and after walking for some time, located the correct bus, and instructed the conductor to make sure that I was dropped off at the correct stop. This kind of incident happens a lot in India, and demonstrates the friendliness of most people that I meet.

The bus, an old but serviceable machine, hand-painted inside, with neat leather cushions, set off at a crawl through Kolkata's terrible traffic. The driver turned on the obligatory ear-splitting film music channel on the radio, and I was pleasantly surprised when the first tune was my favourite Indian film song, from the movie '1942'. I sang along, to the surprise of fellow passengers.

At the Belur Math, I arrived just after the gates had closed for the 1200-1600 recess, but a local guy suggested that I visit the Dakshineshwar Temple instead, about 5km away. First though, I walked by the side of the Math wall, through a series of twisting alleys to the river, where I was pleased to see a sign advertising boat trips to the Dakshineshwar Temple, for 6rs per person. After a short wait, the next boat arrived, a small, single engined ferry, which could take about 20 passengers. We all got onboard and the ferry set off up river, passing across to the east bank and under the Vivekanada Bridge to the temple nearby. The temple itself was also closed until 3pm, but the surrounding area was packed with many people admiring the view, eating picnics or snacks from the many food stalls, or buying souvenirs from the small market of vendors. I had a small lunch of puris and sabzi (puffed fried breads, and vegetable curry) then wandered around the market and gardens, taking a few photos and admiring the river view.

At 3pm, the main compound opened, and the faithful flooded in to see the temple, dedicated to the goddess Kali, and opened in 1847, though presently well maintained and in very good order. I had a good look around, then took the ferry back to the Belur Math, which by now had opened again. Headquarters of the Ramakrishna Mission, it was founded in 1899 by Swami Vivekananda, a disciple of the 19thC Hindu saint, Ramakrishna. The gardens inside are well planned and pleasant; the temple itself has a modern air, and is beautifully crafted in yellow sandstone. Inside is a single white marble statue of the saint. Unfortunately, no photos are allowed in the compound or temple.

I took another bus back to Howrah, and made my final, 6th river crossing of the day. Back on Chowringhee Road, the evening markets were in full swing, and beneath the neon signs, the stalls were doing a brisk business with the thousands of shoppers crowding the pavements. What a difference it all is to Ballyfarnon !

Posted by travellingtim at 09:05 PM

April 10, 2005

A Circular Train Trip

Went for a short train trip today, with some email-buddies: Samit and Sourav. We are all members of a Yahoo group about Indian Railways appreciation - these two formed the Kolkata 'branch'. If you wish to know more about the group, see http://groups.yahoo.com/group/irfca/ or http://www.irfca.org/

I am not a 'hardened railroad nut', as many on the group are, but I do like riding the rails throughout India. Samit and Sourav had organised a small circular journey from Kolkata; departure just after 8am. I went to the station early, for a pleasant and relaxed breakfast of onion omelette with a liitle green chili, 4 slices of triangular (a first for me) butter toast, and a pot of tea, which came with a an old one-person teapot, and separate cup, saucer, milk jug, sugar bowl. This is a standard Indian Railways breakfast, and very good value at 28rs - about 66c US or 35p UK.

I had picked up some newspapers in English from a vendor outside first of all - being Sunday, the papers are thicker, and cost 5rs each (about 12c US) insted of the more normal 1rs. Available in Kolkata this morning were the Times of India, the Telegraph, and the Statesman The papers were all reporting the Pope's funeral, the marriage of Charles and Camilla, and the visit to India of the Chinese premier, plus a story about a woman who had a leech living in her nose for some time, without realising it until she went to the doctor with peristent nose bleeds, and the doctor saw it peeping out.

On the 'funny pages' are Peanuts, Archie, Hagar the Horrible, Dennis the Menace, Beau Peep, the Wizard of Id, Garfield, Calvin and Hobbes, Beetle Bailey, and Ripley's Believe It or Not. They help to start the day, before the more depressing local and international news.

Met my friends downstairs at the bookstall, and we bought our tickets: superfast express from Kolkata's 'Sealdah' station via Asansol and Adhra to Kolkata's 'Howrah' station. The total journey took all day, (SuperFast in name only), though we had stops in Asansol, where we changed trains, and Adhra, where we had lunch. Saw a lot of scenery and locomotives. Did a lot of chatting, and compared notes about countries and lifestyles.

Half way through the trip, I noticed that the barometer on my watch was dropping like a stone, and sure enough, a big depression was coming in from the Bay of Bengal, and with it, my first rains of the trip. The newspaper later reported 2" in 2 hours.

The streets were flooded, trains delayed, and the taxis at Howrah thought Christmas had come, and charged triple fares to take people home.

I had to wade through 10" of water to get into my hotel - a first rinse for my socks and trousers before the nightly chore of doing my laundry of the day's clothes, so quite useful, actually! More of the same likely today - will test out my new 'Moss Bros' umbrella and report back.

Posted by travellingtim at 08:03 PM

April 09, 2005

Visiting the Howrah Bridge

Still breaking in my new sandals - or should that be 'the new sandals are still breaking in me'? Despite plasters and socks, the blisters are annoying, so I've been exploring in small doses. Today, a trip to my favourite part of Kolkata: the Howrah Bridge, and nearby Howrah Railway Station. The bridge crosses the Hugli River, and is one of the major thoroughfares of the city. Like Trafalgar Square in London, wait there long enough and everyone you know will pass by.

Today, a cooling breeze down the river made this a very pleasant place to be for those with time on their hands; Kolkata's natural air-conditioning against the 90 degree heat with 88% humidity. For others, though, the daily work goes on. Porters cross the bridge in a continual stream, taking goods to and from the railway station.

On the east bank of the bridge is the busy flower market. Its best seen in the early morning, but there were still a few sellers there at 5pm, mostly with garlands of marigolds.

Just south of the bridge, on the West Bank of the Hugli, is the huge Howrah Railway Station. Almost a town itself, it often seems as if the whole of Bengal is there, waiting for a train. Its a great place for people-watching, with all the facilities for daily life, including a number of new food halls selling local and regional delicacies, such as puri, kachori, samosas, and many others.

Posted by travellingtim at 07:06 PM

April 07, 2005

Arrival in Kolkata

Sitting in the Boeing 777, watching the map on the seat-back monitor, the circled centre of Calcutta, now Indianified to Kolkata, approached as 0500 drew ever nearer. The plane slowly descended through a delicate dawn, skimming the early risers in the shacks and hutments around Dum Dum airport. The plane's windows, once clear, fogged over with humidity, or was it a misty-eyed return to a much loved homeland?

The arrival at Dum Dum airport was a first for me, a pleasant experience after the hustle and bustle of Delhi's roaring throng, or even the calmer citizens of Chennai. Small queues, a friendly immigration officer, a long wait for the baggage; my Moss Bros umbrella, checked in against global terror, even arrived unscathed. Pleasantly warm, a little too humid. I changed some money, then straight through customs and out into the arrivals hall, where the 'pre-paid bus' mentioned in the guidebook seemed to be no longer in service, but the pre-paid taxi was still available, and the best option this time. Out of the A/C isolation and into India; the rush of expectant relatives and eager mini-cab drivers, the comforting line of yellow cabs that would take me on a 200rupee, well-worth the expense, no-bargain journey to my destination of backpacker-central, otherwise known as Sudder Street.

The Ambassador taxi sets off on its 40 minute ride to town, and I wound down the window for the cool breeze, and a chance to use that most under-used sense of the Western world, the sense of smell. The smoke from early-morning cooking fires, the engine-smell of petrol mixed with kerosine, the gentle smell of cow-dung, and then, when I was least expecting it, the sudden scent of India as a workman pedalled by smoking a bidi, that most distinctive cigarette of the poor, handmade by the poor. Back in India after a break of 2 years, and it seems as if I have never been away. So much is forgotten but familiar, and tugs at my sleeve in a series of rememberings as the day progresses. Crows pick amongst the piles of rubbish, a man washes under a tap, and in the gutters, another family awakes to a day of uncertainty. Trucks rush by, children walk to school, trolleys full of vegetables are pulled to market by straining coolies. The never ending sights of India unfold before me.

For now, though, the mechanics of travelling click back into my mind, almost automatically. Out of the taxi; he's not looking for a hotel commission, but there's others who are, and I soon pick up a follower who trails me as I walk down Sudder Street, suggesting hotels that will benefit him the most in private commissions, and then when I finally choose one I stayed in on a previous trip, discretely tagging behind and hovering near reception. I quickly disassociate myself from him, but still have to bargain down the offered price, inspect the room, ask for a receipt and a hotel-card, and check the dates as my details are entered into the vast, dusty hotel ledger.

Four hours 30 minutes ahead of British Summer Time, 5 hours 30 minutes ahead of GMT. Its light of course, but not in my head. My watch says 06:45 but my body says sleep, so sleep it is. Room and windows locked, money-belt secure, eye shades and ear-plugs on, and a final memory forces its way through as my eyes close; the whoosh whoosh of the ceiling fan, and the way its cooling breezes gently wash over my body.

Later, refreshed but still dis-orientated, I venture out for a walk to the Maidan, that glorious open space in the centre of Kolkata that gives the otherwise crowded city its lungs back, for a short time. The pollution index is running at 28%, officially classed as 'Unhealthy', but here at least there's a chance to breathe, to enjoy a cup of strong, buffalo milk tea and watch the many games of cricket, hockey, and others that spring up, organised or un-organised, across the browning grass.

Posted by travellingtim at 12:32 PM