Sravana.us

Just to let you know that we’ve updated Sravana with a few raw video and audio clips we were unable to post from India.

We’ll be adding more photos to the Sravana set on Flickr when we get the opportunity.

Mathias and Emma are selecting their photos and videos and we’ll add them here too.

Enjoy.

Back to Switzerland after a smooth and comfortable flight. We slept through most of it, which is one of the good things of travelling west. We won’t drop the way we did at Varkala.

We’re not saying much, still dazzled and dreamy, our eyes full of south India’s bright and colourful light. Smiling as the sounds of waves and birds, the morning mantras and the rickshaw horns still resonate.

A few hours ago we were having breakfast in Bhakti Kutir’s palm grove. A few hours less, and we were making our way down to Colaba in Mumbai, having drinks and a lavish dinner at the Taj Palace.

Mumbai is still an incredible place. I wish we’d had more time to rediscover it. Next time.

Now, we are staring at a winter morning breaking through Zurich Airport’s frosty windows, big smiles spread across our faces.

Coming home is part of leaving. Hello world.

It is our last night in Goa. Tomorrow, we head for Mumbai and our flight home early Tuesday morning.

Gosh time has flown by fast… no regrets though, as we made the most of every moment, living in present.

We all feel very fortunate to have had such an opportunity, and we are ready for more…

I had an amazing experience this morning: a traditional ayurvedic massage at Kailas, the Bhakti Kutir’s ayurveda center.

It was the first time I experienced a four hand massage. All in perfect synchronisation, rubbing, pulling and poking. It is not of the relaxing kind, but more of the energizing one.

After the hot leave stamps, you end up completely bathed in oil, from head to toe.

A tremendous experience. Moreover in these fabulous settings.

Highly recommended, and not just once.

To the soft mantras of Daniella’s yoga group to the back, the fading Kerala Express’ horn from beyond the hills far away, crushing waves to the west, night birds songs everywhere, distant cerebral ambiant electronic beats from the beach way below, short motor rrickshaw horns and laughs from the main road, an unexpected firework, a cracking tree, a scurrying rodent, dog’s barks, a touch of clincking chai glasses, a faint creeky wooden door, children whispers from above us, more laughs.

So many sounds, but so peaceful at the same time.

Lazy feeling today. Patnem is quiet as it seems many people have left.

Even the sea feels lazy in the way she brushes up the beach in long slow waves.

Little sand crabs pop up and scatter sideways all around, regaining their territory.

How sweet can it get?

It certainly still is a market, but the fleas have long fled.

It’s organisation is close to an open air music festival. Paddy field are used as parkings, and the path up to the original market grounds is lined with stalls of the same boring paraphenelia.

Worse. 9/10th of it feels like a supermarket. Organised and oversized as a supermarket, dull as a supermarket. Same things, over and over again. Sigh.

Imagination and innovation are still there, but on the brink of extinction. One needs to look (and listen) hard. The western alternative scene, once held by a handful of visionary post hippies, relates more to Ibiza than to India.

Don’t get me wrong, there are a some interesting stalls held by interesting and friendly people.

But it’s about buisiness, not a way of life. Some might argue that it died long ago with the hippie movement. I’m not so sure. The 80’ties and mid 90’ties were still quite mellow, even at Anjuna beach.

I’m not sure I’ll ever go back there, but we had to check it out, if not just to show it to the children. It was fun to sit and watch the people who attend this event, and how they behave.

On the positive side, the trip up north was interesting. A long a drive (2:30+), but we travelled through lovely back country when we weren’t on the NH17.

Especially the area north of Panaji and behing Calangute and Baga beaches. Many old colonial houses have been restored in the best possible ways, and small villages have livened up (such as Mapusa) in a lovely fashion.

Moreover, it looks like many interesting furniture and deco shops are located in the northern suburbs of Panaji. We’ll have to check them out osom day.

As of today, it isn’t possible for non-Goan people to acquire land or property. Speculation ran too high. I noticed a number of charming derelict places with the “Not for sale” sign hanging in front.

Ravi (+91 97-64-630877) drove us up and back. A safe and reliable driver who managed to avoid the rush hour traffic jam around Margao by taking alternatice routes which led us through unexpected landscapes of daily goanese life at dusk.

Just for that, it was worth the trouble.

We were early birds this morning: 05:00am. Just in the twilight between night and day, sleep and wake.

Alone with the full moon, save the occasional passer by striding to his work, the birds were the only ones aware of our presence, singing away to daybreak. Peaceful.

Parade Ground was now empty and cleaned up after yesterday’s celebrations which saw singers, an elephant parade, dancers and people rejoicing and dancing everywhere to the drum beats and trumpets worthy of a tropical carnaval.

Probably the reason why it was a dry day (no alcohol).

The reason of our early rise is that Kochi’s airport is 50km away, and we are located in Fort Cochin, connected to the mainland only by the south of the island which can get very busy.

A taxi picked us up on Parade Ground and drove us at a scaring speed through the awakening city. Even at these early hours, and speed, it took us close to an hour.

The trip was astonishing. After the sleepy lanes of Fort Kochi lined with old banyan trees, we hit the mainland and its industrialisation. Roads grew wider and busier amd noisier.

Soon giant billboards for western clothing and accessories, cell phone operators, european cars, luxury products, started to appear. All in English.

We whooshed pass gigantic construction sites for shopping malls and business centers, spread out all the way from the outskirts of Ernakulam up to the airport. Dazzling.

Now, the disparity between social layers feels stronger than ever. Cultures clash. While you may relate to the ads, the settings feel all wrong. Who reads them? Who are they targeted at? This is Ernakulam, not Delhi, Mumbai or Chennai…

Things are on the move.

Ernakulam’s old boat jetty has disappeared in favour of a brand new (unfinished) concrete building, in which people actually queue up for their tickets. I mean long lines, well behaved and all. Last time I’d bought tickets here, it was all scruf and hurry.

It’s in little things like these that you feel the undertow of change.

Non smoking signs are another example. They have appeared in most public places and I haven’t seen a lot of people smoke either.

But most of all, Fort Cochin has changed. From a quiet network of small alleys, lined with local shops and traders, and a couple of hotels on the island, it has become a fullfledged mainstream tourist attraction.

Hotels, some very posh, and homestays have sprung up in the north west and center part of the island. Along with numerous cafes, restaurants and curios, souvenir, craft and antique shops. Some of which are really really nice. Not only in what they have to offer, but how they offer it and in what surroundings.

Many old buildings have been restored with a lot of taste, and the decoration and welcome is spotless.

We found an art center in the Mattancherry area located in the courtyard of a former spice trader. Designers and painters share the space displaying what today’s indian design is about. Amazing.

We didn’t spend enough time here to really appreciate it, but Kochi has really a lot to offer.

Overall, we haven’t meet many backpackers, eventhough the place caters nicely for them. This might be that we don’t share the same space and time.

Travellibg with children alters the way you choose where to stay, how to travel and what to eat.

Could it be that the tourism in India has broadened so much that backpackers are just one kind amongst all the others? Maybe. Or it might be a case of my romantic/nostalgic perception of the world, and backpackers aren’t what they use to be…

We’ve reached Palolem and the fabulous Bhakti Kutir which is out-of- this-world. Slipping under the mosquito net for the night. Sweet dreams.

…or have changed. Drastically. The once quiet and relaxed (almost dead) Fort Cochin has changed into a suburban Kathmandu. Curio shops, bazaars, rooftop restaurants, little hotels and homestays, western music and tourists everywhere.

As if Fort Cochin had become a package tour destination. This is by far the most dramatic change we’ve witnessed so far (but there is still no beer readily available).

Let’s not juge to hastily. Taking time to settle in.

We’ve just handed in our room key and are waiting for a motor rickshaw to drive us to the bus stand. The temperature is rising steadily (32 feels like 38) and we are all dripping. There are loads of buses riding north, we’ll jump in the first available. Good bye backwaters, hello Fort Cochin.

Ouch. No bus, taxi or rickshaw today. The BJP has called for a general strike throughout the state. I’ve been calling to find a place to sleep, but people are stranded and are not moving. We found a place (last room) by Lake Nehru and the houseboat is proceeding to drop us off. Never a dull moment.

I have just used an ATM for the first time in India… no queues, worked { almost } first go - once you figure out your daily limit. Amazing.

We’ve been unplugged these last few days due to flaky data connectivity. I got tired of running after a signal and of failed uploads. I wasn’t tempted by the local internet cafes either. So I reverted back to my pen and notepad.

We took the time to immerse ourselves into the local life by walking around to explore the small local town, a day trip to the Neyyar Dam Sanctuary and its elephant rehabilitation center. Step out of the beaten tracks to discover and participate in the Durga temple rituals at dusk. Some things don’t change while others certainly have. For better or worse, I’m not sure.

What is sure is that Kerala (India?) has identified tourism has a major asset, and taken important steps towards making it even more important. Some parts of the coast resemble the Costa Brava in the crowd they cater for.

The population that flies to the main beach resorts must come by charters on package holidays. High heels, provocative dressing, (or worse, football shirts) drunk, loud and often gross, this kind of tourist pollutes all the sweet spots of the planet. Forget them. We moved on.

On the other hand, the rise of the indian middle class is visible as many more indian families enjoy the beauty of their country on holiday, and not only in expensive resorts, reserved only to the wealthy as it use to be before. The infra structures work. You can book in advance almost everything, mobile phones everywhere, laptops connected to the internets in small shops, or even in beach shaks. Many more shiny cars on the (still bumpy) roads, women drivers and police officers

Granted, this is Kerala, where the communist party has reigned for a long time (not sure now, but the DYFI seems eveywhere) and invested a lot in social services. Most people are litterate and there are 20+ daily newspapers. But even so.

Top knotch hightech hospitals have sprung up along the coast to welcome a new breed of tourism: medical tourism. Transplants, heart surgery, etc, at a fraction of the western cost.. and no waiting list. Similar to what you can find in Malaysia. Frightening.

Nevetheless, India’ soul remains. Get off the beaten tracks, sit down and watch life unfold in front of you. The warmth of that smile is priceless.

En fin de journée nous étions a la plage Mathias et David jouaient avec les vagues, Emma et moi jouions avec le sable, un Monsieur vient vers moi et me dit look ! Il y avait 5 dauphins . Nous les avons regardé passer avec beaucoup d’ exitation, et d’ admiration . Un cadeau de la nature..