Munnar.
I arrived at about 10:30 and have decided that in future, perhaps i should consult the guide more closely.
The town is essentially a street upon which traders selling food, SIM cards, homemade chocolate, teas and STDs (?) bustle everywhere. The place is beyond chaos and although significantly smaller than Kochi, seems somehow busier. It's surrounded by tea plantations founded by Scottish colonialists in the middle of the mountains and it smells like cardomom and traffic.
On the bus ride on the way up, we'd stopped once in a dusty little village. The driver got off and trotted into a cafe to have breakfast. I didn't like the look of what he was eating - some sort of unidentifiable fried donut - so i bought some fruit from a nearby stall; a few bananas the size of my thumb, two green oranges (would you call them greens?) and a bunch of red grapes. The guy offered to wash the grapes for me, and he showed me that the water was clean by way of pouring a soapy substance into it, but i decided to just buy a bottle of water and wash them myself in the street outside. I regretted it on the bus, when i discovered that my clump of grapes was swarming with ants and they had taken it upon themselves to escape from the fruit and make a run for it accross the seat and towards me. I had actually eaten loads of the grapes and they did seem fine, but it was still pretty early for this kind of nonsense, so i hurled them out of the window and switched seats, watching with interest to see who would sit there. Alas, no-one did.
I wanted to stay at a hostel called the Greenview, recommended in the guide because of the treks they organised into the mountains and tea plantations. From what i could gather of Munnar, there was very little else to do there, so it seemed like a reasonable thing to do.
Upon exiting the bus, the usual melee of people with rickshaws and tuk-tuks greeted us, trying to get us back to their various hotels and hostels. I, however, had a plan. On the map, the Greenview was only 500m or so up the road, so i decided to walk rather than pay the equivilent of 20pence to get a lift. I was plagued incessantly by transport touts who all assured me that it actually was quite far and they'd be happy to drive me there for next to nothing.
Yeah, right. I thought. I've seen this before.
It was easily over a mile and by the time i got there, with my heavy rucksack, i was knackered and sweating, and one of the tuk-tuk drivers sat smiling at me from behind the desk.
There was to be a hike up into the mountains leaving at 5:30am the next day, so they suggested i freshen up, change and head into town to have a look round before catching a relatively early night. It sounded like a good idea, so i went up to my room to sort myself out.
It was a large one, on the roof, with windows on 3 of the 4 walls that gave me a great view of the lush, green surrounding mountains and the building site next-door. There was a diesel generator running out on my balcony that i could only assume was powering either the AC, the hot water, or in fact the entire building. Occasionally, i would get a waft of it through the airvent, but aside from that, the room was perfectly sound and very cheap.
I showered, and halfway through changing, suddenly felt very tired, so decided to have a quick nap. I had gotten up at 5am, after all. It was about 12:30 by now, so i reasoned i could have a quick one before lunch.
I woke up at 6:30 with a sore throat, a pounding headache and the oily taste of diesel in my mouth. That bloody generator had been slowly poisoning me! I dragged myself out of bed and, still clothed, stumbled out of the room. As soon as I breathed fresh air, i was fine and as the fog cleared from my vision, i started to feel hungry, so headed into town.
That night, i slept like a log. The combination of tiredness, lack of oxygen and excess carbon-monoxide probably helped, and when i woke up in the morning, i felt surprisingly good.
My immune system was evidently better at adapting to these adverse conditions i was constantly subjecting it to.
Next: breathing underwater.
I arrived at about 10:30 and have decided that in future, perhaps i should consult the guide more closely.
The town is essentially a street upon which traders selling food, SIM cards, homemade chocolate, teas and STDs (?) bustle everywhere. The place is beyond chaos and although significantly smaller than Kochi, seems somehow busier. It's surrounded by tea plantations founded by Scottish colonialists in the middle of the mountains and it smells like cardomom and traffic.
On the bus ride on the way up, we'd stopped once in a dusty little village. The driver got off and trotted into a cafe to have breakfast. I didn't like the look of what he was eating - some sort of unidentifiable fried donut - so i bought some fruit from a nearby stall; a few bananas the size of my thumb, two green oranges (would you call them greens?) and a bunch of red grapes. The guy offered to wash the grapes for me, and he showed me that the water was clean by way of pouring a soapy substance into it, but i decided to just buy a bottle of water and wash them myself in the street outside. I regretted it on the bus, when i discovered that my clump of grapes was swarming with ants and they had taken it upon themselves to escape from the fruit and make a run for it accross the seat and towards me. I had actually eaten loads of the grapes and they did seem fine, but it was still pretty early for this kind of nonsense, so i hurled them out of the window and switched seats, watching with interest to see who would sit there. Alas, no-one did.
I wanted to stay at a hostel called the Greenview, recommended in the guide because of the treks they organised into the mountains and tea plantations. From what i could gather of Munnar, there was very little else to do there, so it seemed like a reasonable thing to do.
Upon exiting the bus, the usual melee of people with rickshaws and tuk-tuks greeted us, trying to get us back to their various hotels and hostels. I, however, had a plan. On the map, the Greenview was only 500m or so up the road, so i decided to walk rather than pay the equivilent of 20pence to get a lift. I was plagued incessantly by transport touts who all assured me that it actually was quite far and they'd be happy to drive me there for next to nothing.
Yeah, right. I thought. I've seen this before.
It was easily over a mile and by the time i got there, with my heavy rucksack, i was knackered and sweating, and one of the tuk-tuk drivers sat smiling at me from behind the desk.
There was to be a hike up into the mountains leaving at 5:30am the next day, so they suggested i freshen up, change and head into town to have a look round before catching a relatively early night. It sounded like a good idea, so i went up to my room to sort myself out.
It was a large one, on the roof, with windows on 3 of the 4 walls that gave me a great view of the lush, green surrounding mountains and the building site next-door. There was a diesel generator running out on my balcony that i could only assume was powering either the AC, the hot water, or in fact the entire building. Occasionally, i would get a waft of it through the airvent, but aside from that, the room was perfectly sound and very cheap.
I showered, and halfway through changing, suddenly felt very tired, so decided to have a quick nap. I had gotten up at 5am, after all. It was about 12:30 by now, so i reasoned i could have a quick one before lunch.
I woke up at 6:30 with a sore throat, a pounding headache and the oily taste of diesel in my mouth. That bloody generator had been slowly poisoning me! I dragged myself out of bed and, still clothed, stumbled out of the room. As soon as I breathed fresh air, i was fine and as the fog cleared from my vision, i started to feel hungry, so headed into town.
That night, i slept like a log. The combination of tiredness, lack of oxygen and excess carbon-monoxide probably helped, and when i woke up in the morning, i felt surprisingly good.
My immune system was evidently better at adapting to these adverse conditions i was constantly subjecting it to.
Next: breathing underwater.
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