Driving to the Spice Tree Inn was an experience that was unexpected. The trip took seven hours from Cochin and the majority of the trip was on a dirt road that was nothing more than about 10 feet wide with one curve leading into another. The road was mostly dirt with major rocks and sinkholes. This was supposed to be the short cut since the main road had washed out, but I do not think so. Two cars could not pass without one backing up to find a tiny piece of roadside to hang off of. We climbed up to about 6,000 feet this way. The Inn was lovely with a view overlooking the mountains but no where did we see tea plantations. We arrived too late to do anything, so we decided to have a slide show for our last night together. Traveling with professional photographers can be intimidating but all of us had strong pictures. We were only allowed 30, Shap managed to slip in 80.

This morning we got in the van to begin our journey to the Harrison Tea Plantation. On the way we went by the Tetley Tea Plantation that is owned by TaTa. They do not allow any visitors into the plantation and so we gazed from the roadside. There were no workers but the views were incredible. Row after row of plants carpeting the hillsides. The morning mist added a bit of mystery as it floated across the mountainside. Everything was so lush and groomed. These plants are over a hundred years old and every five years they cut them down to the stalks, otherwise they would grow too large.

We arrived at the Harrison Tea Plantation and hiked up through the fields. Lovely flowers, and waterfalls dotted the hillside with the tea plants and cows mingled among the pathways. It was spectacular looking at all of the groomed plants going on for miles and miles. The tea is harvested by a shears with a box attached to collect the leaves. Then this is dumped into an apron type of shirt, and then to large bags. The workers get about $5 a day for picking 27 kilos of leaves. They get free housing but nothing else. However, when we came upon them, they seemed happy to be working there.

These pictures below tell the story of what we saw. Off tomorrow, on our way home. India has been an amazing trip with colors, and smells, and spices, and food and sites to photograph. I am so happy to have experienced this with Shap and our two friends that we met in Cuba on a Sante Fe School of Photography trip, Friendships grow out of the strangest circumstances. Who would think that two young women, who could be our daughters, would want to travel with us, the seniors. But it was wonderful and sealed our friendships with plans to travel some more.

 

The Elephant says it all. Landing late at night we came out of the airport which is new and completely powered by solar. We were hit by oppressive humidity and heat. I felt like the only thing I would be able to do is lay down in an air-conditioned room.

Cochin is an hour and a half from the airport, crossing bridges from island to island, some of those man made and others natural. We pulled up to the Colonial Inn which looked like a storybook illustration of old colonial architecture. A beautiful courtyard with large 300-year-old trees and a pool. Our room opened to a private courtyard with a fountain and lovely flowers. The art work throughout the Inn was interesting and a mixture of contemporary and antique sculptures and paintings.

This area of India is completely different from the rest. There is only a population of three million, there is little honking of horns, less traffic, and overall there is a sense of peace. This area is mostly Christian with a mix of Hindu and Muslin. The Portuguese, Dutch, and English settled here and the architecture reflects those different styles. There are sections throughout the city which are designated areas by religion but all of the people live in harmony. They refer to the Jewish section as “Jew Town.” This is the wholesale spice market area. And there are only two Jews left. However, the temple is a destination for many Jewish people as it is one of the first temples in the area to be built and is quite beautiful.

In the morning we went to the port to see the fisherman who fish with the Chinese fishing nets. It is a very strenuous process, which takes several men to pull the net out of the water as the net is weighted down with very heavy rocks.

That evening we went off to see a traditional dance. We watched them do their makeup which is quite elaborate. Afterwards there was an explanation of the  eye, hand and finger movements. This was helpful, plus the English translation, for understand the performance. The singer sounded like he was giving birth and we all had to hold our laughter in as it went on and on. It was interesting but long and something we could have missed. Yet it is all part of learning about the culture. Only the men perform.

Other images of Cochin: The laundry,where the men do the washing,ironing etc. Some of the women iron. This is the same group of people generation after generation that do the laundry. The iron is coal fired, although the one in the picture is electric. The hand irons are heated by charcoalthey produce from burning the coconut shell.

 

If you had to decide to go to only one thing in India, I would say, the Camel Festival. It is impossible to describe. Every sense is assaulted the minute you arrive. It is like every county fair you have ever seen on steroids. More than a 125,000 people attend it and it lasts a week. It is both a horse and camel festival, but the camels steal the show. Dressed in their finery with elaborate carts to pull they regally walk between people, cars, scooters, horses etc. One of the reasons for the snooty look is the flower that is put on the camel’s nose. When the flower is on their nose they look at it and hold their head up. Every camel that you see out for show has one on its nose.

Among the camels are campfires and tents for the camel owners who sleep there and tether their camels nearby.

The horses are tethered in large tents. And scattered among the horses are bulls. The prize bull weighed in at about 4000 pounds. He was about as large as an SUV. Quite handsome but not something I would want to mess with in the field.

Then there are the hackers, the rides, the booths selling everything imaginable, the dancers, the turban tying contest and the mustache contest.

There was not enough time for all of it. We went at sunrise and sunset and during the day. It was exhausting as it was hot, dusty and a constant stream of traffic that you had to be aware of. I am including more pictures than usual as I think the pictures say more than my words.

Jaipur is my favorite city so far. One of the aspects of India is the inherent knowledge how to drive in complete chaos. Going around the round-about is very interesting. There are cars, bicycles, tut tuts, push carts, dogs, cows, people and who knows what else moving around the center statue in all directions. If you are coming in you could have some alongside of you, you could also have some driving straight into you, while others are about to T-bone you on the side. I do not think that anyone actually goes around in the right direction.

The walls around the city are pink in color (although I think they are terra cotta). There are many archways signifying the entrance to the city. Another interesting feature are the shops. It is the first place we have been with covered sidewalks. When the shops were built, they were built up off the street with a covered walk in front of the shops. The merchants live above. That way one can walk without fear of getting run over by a vehicle.

The Amber Palace is not to be believed. The Maharaja of the area built this palace for he and his 12 wives. He also had 300 concubines. The craftsmanship is spectacular. His meeting room is called the “Hall of Mirrors” and there are reflecting mirrors, sparkling mica and at one time there were jewels all inlaid in marble. The view sweeps over the whole valley. A wall sits on top of the hills much like the Wall of China. At the top of the mountain is a fort. I loved the columns with the elephant heads holding up the floor above.

Since everyone told us that Jaipur was the place to shop, we spent the afternoon doing so. The fabrics are beyond your imagination. For someone like me, this is like going into a candy store. One piece of cloth after another was more beautiful than the next. It just amazes me these fabrics are not used more in styling clothes. The women of India wear the most engaging combinations of fabric. I am so envious that I do not get to have such style to wear every day.

We ended the day with a cooking class that was delicious. We cooked lamb and chickpeas in two separate coconuts and use the whey for the chicken marsala. We made naan and a delicious eggplant dish. We also cooked bread in the ashes and the coconuts. Our meal was delicious and it was fun to cook.

We went to a block printing village, Bagru, where all most all of the block printing in India is done. The Hindu people dye and print the fabric while the Muslims carve the block design. Designers will send designs to the village, a block will be made according to the design and will be printed, and sent back to the designer for their approval. Then the cloth will be produced all in this village. This village sells to the wholesaler. The material will be sent elsewhere to have things made from it.

And now to the reason we came: THE CAMEL FESTIVAL, We Can’t Wait.

Days have been spent traveling. The pollution was so bad in Delhi that our flight was an hour late. We drove to Agra which is a five-hour drive, we did not arrive until after 6 pm. By the time we ate dinner we were all exhausted. However, on the way to our room we passed a puppeteer. Never one to pass up a puppet show, Shap and I watched while the puppets belly danced, danced with snakes and flipped from female to male. I am always fascinated by puppeteers and their ability to use all the strings. People were passing him by, but Shap and I laughed at the antics of the puppets as if we were kids. It was a relaxing gem after a long trip.

Up at 5:00 to get to the Taj Mahal before sunrise in order to avoid the crowds. I think it was also to beat the pollution, known as fog in India. The sun is barely visible all-day long. When we finally got to the Taj Mahal, it is truly one of the seven wonders of the world. The colors and angles that reflect the light are exquisite. Of course, if it were me I would have wanted this built before I died so I could enjoy it.

 

The craftsmanship is breathtaking, but the setting is what draws you to it. If it were not for the garden and water feature leading the eye to the building it would not be as dramatic.

Headed for Jaipur we spent time in a roadside market. We were quite the attraction and had many requests to have out picture taken or to take pictures.

We stopped at a city residence of the third Mogul in the 16^th century. He was the first to have three wives with three different religions.  This was quite an amazing residence and we ended up spending more time than we had expected.

 

Back in our van we will arrive late in Jaipur. I think we will need more than two nights here but it is on to the camel festival. Time is flying by and the sounds of India will forever be honking horns and the sound of breaks as a cow decides to cross the main highway. But then we arrive off a busy street in the wholesale area of Jaipur through a gate where the road in looks as if it were some dark dirty alleyway. In front of us is the Hotel Dra Mandawa a beautiful inn with a charming courtyard and rooms so large you could live in them as an entire house. Even an upstairs balcony with a meditation room. Charming wall stencils, block printed covers and an enormous padlock on our door. It could not have been a more perfect end to our day.

It is 3:30 AM when I am woken with what I thought was a gunshot. This is the beginning of the sunrise ceremony of the festival called Choat Puga. Last night was the start of the festival. From 3:30 AM there were fireworks and drums and people swarming to the Ganges. Lying in bed listening to the various noises and trying to identify what was going on, I thought this could be equivalent to a war zone. My ears rang from the cherry bombs.

Once up and dressed we arrived out in the balcony looking down on this sea of humanity while dodging the sparks from the fireworks and breathing in the heavy smoke created from the offerings, guns and general fires.

Masses of humanity lined the banks of the Ganges River with lines of people going two different directions at once, pushing and shoving to get where they want. Sky lanterns were lit and floated slowly over the people. It is hard to imagine this scene, even if you have seen a million pictures of it. Until you actually see it, you cannot understand it. Taking a boat ride along the river was the best way to see everything.

 

Afterwards we walked to the golden temple, pass the cremation site, and into an area restricted from pictures, the Golden Temple. You walk through ancient streets where you share the street with cows, pedi-bikes, garbage and cow dung All of this is not bad compared to the constant honking of horns blasting your eardrums until you wish and wish for the quiet of Vermont. No wonder everyone meditates, the temples or mediation areas are the only quiet area.

Later in the afternoon we walked through the main streets into a central square while cars, motor scooters, bikes, rickshaws went in every direction at once. A mother cow, with her calf was not going to let us pass. She pushed past us with a toss of the head reminding us we were visitors, and this was her territory. Crossing the street was a major fete, timing a break on one side of the road while dodging our way to the other side. Something akin to bumper cars. Markets were just as crowded.

We successfully completed another day without injury and look forward to moving on to Agra. Varanasi is one of those places in the world that you cannot comprehend until you visit and then you can only observe as an outsider, knowing you could never belong. The Ganges is polluted and judging from the amount of trash, and sewage going into it, plus the factories that contribute, I wonder if India will be able to save it.

“You will never want to miss Varanasi, ” is the comment we have heard from so many people. I was not sure that I would want to experience the Ganges River scene with all the stories I had heard. The polluted river, the burning of bodies, the bathing rituals all seemed a bit barbaric. Yet, there is a certain sense of curiosity.

Driving into the center of Varanasi was certainly exciting with every form of transportation crowding into narrow streets,speeding around cows in the middle of the road, and braking at the last minute as  motorcycles with a family of four or five riding on it,cuts in front of our van, quarter inches from the bumper,  Streets so narrow that we had to walk the last couple blocks to get to our hotel. As in many other countries, the streets are dug up leaving large holes, animal excrement, old debris, trash and other indescribable objects littered along the way. One must hop out of the way as a scooter swerves to miss you, one false step and you may or may not be on the ground. Having been this route other times I knew when we finally got to the hotel it would open up to a beautiful courtyard and lovely rooms. We were not disappointed.

Varanasi was in the throes of a festival, one I could hardly spell here. It is the time when people come to the Ganges to ask for a blessing for their sons. Gifts of flowers, sugar cane and candles in tin pie plates are sold or brought to the Ganges and floated there or lite on shore. Thousands of people come to embrace this tradition and stay until after sunset. Then tomorrow they will come back to bring an offering to the sunrise. We photographed all of this and will tomorrow morning too.

After experiencing this outside our hotel,we headed for a boat and began a trip down the Ganges to the cremation sites.  This was rather an interesting scene as it looked like something out of the movie “Apocalypse .”  But the ritual does not seem any more bizarre than out burial rituals. In many ways cremation in this form is more intimate than our way of cremating. And the traditions have stories that are comforting to loved ones.

I felt that we were lucky to experience this holiday,the cremation and the holy site where pilgrim come to cleanse themselves in the River Ganges.