Saturday 31st May
- island-wide power cuts
- sandy beaches
and
- peace and quiet.
it almost sounds like a holiday.
love, all
edd & philippa
Saturday, 31 May 2008
Friday, 30 May 2008
Catch-up - photos and full text soon!
Friday 30th May
- internet updating!
now based on the island of Diu, we have found somewhere with good uploading, computers and connections, plus Blogger.com now works 100% again - huzzah! please do keep checking back to see what new things have been updated. thanks for your patience!
take care and please do stay in touch; we are thinking of you lots.
edd & philippa
Hardcore Prawn - photos and full text soon!
Thursday 29th May
- sun, sea and sand
- King Prawn attack!
quiet, relaxing and laid back - what a change from places like Ahmedabad. bits and pieces to follow soon, we can update properly at last, so please do keep checking!
love
edd & philippa
Diu South West - photos and full text soon!
Wednesday 28th May
- a Palitana promise
- the road to Diu
plus
- island is surrounded by sea shocker!
a rearranging of plans brings is to the island of Diu early and low on energy. details as ever soon!
edd & philippa
- a Palitana promise
- the road to Diu
plus
- island is surrounded by sea shocker!
a rearranging of plans brings is to the island of Diu early and low on energy. details as ever soon!
edd & philippa
The Best Laid Plans...
Tuesday 27th May
- hurray, we leave Ahmedabad!
- the road to Palitana
- the best laid plans...
the benefits of having such a rare luxury as air conditioning are obvious in a country that can get as hot as India can, and we felt those benefits on what was our last night - finally! - in Ahmedabad. checking out at 5am involved waking the porter and night receptionist, who were sleeping by the desk. we had asked to check out earlier in the evening, but they had said it would be fine. we were a little crestfallen to discover that it was still stupidly warm for this hour of the morning. unlike all of the other major cities in which we have stayed, the Ahmedabad streets were virtually deserted, its inhabitants choosing not to take advantage of the relatively cooler temperatures, as they do elsewhere. the porter opened the shuttered grill to the entrance and hailed us an auto.
it was a strange experience speeding through the streets in the dawning light past the homeless and the half-disintegrated home we had seen previously propped up by sandbags. at the station, we managed to find our bus without too much difficulty, even though all of the signs were in Gujarati. we were half an hour early, but the bus was already predominantly boarded. a rough and ready collection or 2 and 3 seat groups separated by an aisle, it had the rigid seats and slightly darkened windows common with all state buses. in keeping with the wide variety of sources from which they seem to originate, the door's driver's area and general layout differ from bus to bus as much as the dilapidated state of their interiors and paintwork. Philippa managed to get a window seat as part of a group of 3, with Edd in the middle.
we'd been on state buses before to Deshnok and Kota, but this would be a longer journey and the main problem with Indian transport - for Edd - was again apparent. the leg room on a state bus is actually fairly decent, but it does not accommodate someone of Edd's altitude in anything other than a bolt upright position. Philippa's rucksack was already under her legs, while Edd's was scrunched very unceremoniously into the small overhead racks, necessitating a vast expenditure of sweat. between us, we were a might uncomfortable, to say the least. Edd had a slight and pleasant man in the adjacent seat, but he was not of a size to cause any additional issues of space. the other people on the bus regarded us with mild curiosity, no more. most of them had taken their chances with seat availability and were paying on board. several had the facial contusions or strange skull dents that confuse and fascinate in equal measure - what happens to make that sort of mark? in a country with so many unfortunate amputees, crippled and ill, it seemed a minor issue with which to deal. how lucky we are in the West.
if we had thought Ahmedabad polluted before, we didn't know the half of it. almost an hour passed before we finally passed out of its ungainly sprawl. new roads were being constructed in many places, accompanied by whole communities living on the displaced earth and waiting aggregates, small fires burning by groups of huddled people next to their few possessions or underneath a makeshift awning. the street communities in Ahmedabad were as extensive as the buildings were ugly and the development unchecked. it looked a particular degree of 'bad' in a way few places have to our eyes in India.
and the city was just the start. as soon as we cleared the outskirts, the factories began. facility followed facility, a continuous grey scar on the planet. convoluted twisting metal pipes and giant, rusting, warehouse-style sheds were the foundation for multiple small chimneys or large, dirty white behemoths, all belching our worryingly coloured smoke, more like escaping gas than the results of burning. we've never seen so many such plants in a row, and this went on for half an hour driving past at average speed. there were few if any dwellings here, and the reason for no photo evidence is that the duration of the bus' passing was marked by exercises in supreme breath holding. inhaling was a problem, as the air was strangled, weak and full of chemicals you could taste and feel. one breathe would go in and a headache would form, sharp and stabbing, as the end of its tendrils groped around the back of your skull. it was a truly horrible experience and went some way to explaining why the city's air was so heavy and uncomfortable.
eventually the factories began to thin out, interspersed with ploughed fields and even a few homes, but they were long gone before breathing in was pleasant again.
our bus, featuring a tired Philippa staring from one of the windows.
the journey itself was quite ordinary, in the best possible way. the bus kept good speed despite frequent stops and one long comfort break where Edd finally got to stretch his legs, a very welcome relief. [Edd: India is too short. I have decided.] the other passengers kept themselves very much to themselves in a vaguely British way and paid us little attention, quite unusual in our Indian experience. the bus was occasionally overloaded but not by many people and never for too long. the sun was even on the other side of the vehicle from us. all in all, it was as comfortable as a five hour plus bus journey can be when you are wedged tightly into a chair by your knees.
colourful transport
away from Ahmedabad's factories, the landscape took on a distinctly Rajasthani feel, with dry earth and dust dotted with brittle shrubbery and occasional trees. as we finally neared Palitana, we could see in the distance a high, spiked mountain. Philippa half-joked that it must be Shatrunjaya, our reason for being on the bus at all. sadly she was correct. the spikes turned out to be temples far away in the distance and the 'hill' we had been expecting looked instead exactly like an extinct volcano. it was a mountain and no mistake, with no vegetation or cover. and we were just going to pop up its 3,750 steps in 2 hours in 40C or more heat? even the photographs of the extraordinary city of Jain temples at the summit were barely a match for the common sense practicalities of whether or not we could manage it, as well as whether or not we should even try, considering Edd's recent heat-related ill-health.
Palitana was a one road town covered in Gujarati scribbles and no English script anywhere - plus ca change. we fought off a few excitable auto-rickshaw drivers who all assumed that we were staying at the Hotel Sumeru, where we had originally booked. the temperature was as to be expected at midday - silly. we didn't see the point in getting a rickshaw a few hundred yards and walked back down the road and through a lot of greetings to find the Sumeru. one man from whom we sought directions nodded and thumbed up the road, Indian style. the hotel was, of course, down a side-road behind him.
the large, lifeless reception felt like the entrance way of an abandoned comprehensive school, heightened by the hotel's wide staircases and slotted, backless steps. the slouching manager said that they were pretty much full now that we were day late, although we made sure to mention that his phone didn't work. if he was full, his tenants must be some of the quietest in India, a country not known for its decorous hotel clientele. he showed us two non-AC rooms that retained the dusty, derelict academy feel and were a little reminiscent of the half-arsed approach of Ahmedabad's Hotel Ajanta. unimpressed, we decided to retrace our steps exactly to the Hotel Shavrak, opposite the bus station, where did at least have an AC room booked.
sweaty and highly uncomfortable, we finally reached the Shavrak and they did at least still have our room. regrettably, the hotel was presented in the same fashion as the Sumeru, only by someone who had left that hotelier's course half-way through. the AC was good and the room was huge, but dirty and unkempt, with the provided towels dirty and moth-eaten, a toilet that did not flush and a shower so weak it was like faeries weeing on you, Philippa surmised. R800 a night, robbery of the most overt kind. they really know that options are limited in Palitana, or at least those hotels we knew of at the time.
half way through check in, Edd noticed something was not right. rushing upstairs in some hurry, illness had hit again! still, there was no way he was going to miss his long-cherished trip up to the mountain of temples. [Edd: sadly, I was very much mistaken - I would not leave the hotel again, or even the room, until we left the town altogether.]
Edd took some medicines and almost immediately had problems as it got to work. violent stomach cramps began and continued for a frankly distressing 7 hours, irrespective of the drugs that he took. doubled up in pain and unable to do anything at all, the afternoon was taking on significant and unwelcome deja vu qualities. while Edd busied himself with getting maudlin and depressed, Philippa was very concerned and anxious - should a doctor be called? our Shatrunjaya plans ebbed away with each stabbing pain. this eventually moved, then continued to do so, and it strongly suggested not classic 'Indian sickness' but a bladder infection. this proved to be the case. how had that been contracted? well, somewhere like India, it's not difficult to guess. India is such a dirty country it's sometimes difficult for a Westerner to comprehend how it is often cited here that Westerners have dirty habits.
Philippa spoke up for both of us when she said that there was no way that she was going to let Edd even attempt Shatrunjaya after the last three days. what rotten luck. Edd had hardly been unwell whatsoever for the entire trip to date, whereas Philippa had had a few bouts of illness, but now illness was keeping Edd from visiting - or at least trying to visit - something he was desperate to experience, only just after preventing us from leaving somewhere we were desperate to get away from. Palitana is a nothing, end of the line town. the only reason it exists is as a base for treks for pilgrims and some tourists to Shatrunjaya. it was a long way to get here and now it felt like it had all been for nothing.
Philippa had heard from the hotel receptionist that we could get to Diu on a 7 hour bus or two, or a 4 hour taxi. the latter would, of course, be quite expensive, but the last few days had got to us to the point where we had had just about enough. Philippa asked him to book us one for tomorrow.
[Edd: while she popped out to buy drinks and snacks, I couldn't even move around until around 7pm. if felt a bit like another whole day had been trashed, and with it the one thing I had most wanted to do in Gujarat.] it would probably be a few days before Edd was strong enough to have even been able to attempt a trip up Shatrunjaya, so maybe it was a good thing that we didn't stagnate in Palitana just to find out, but it didn't feel that way at the time. it felt like a failure.
the hours ticked by, helped by TV and old Charlie Chaplin films on one of the cable channels. tomorrow, we leave a town we've barely even seen and without accomplishing the only reason we came here in the first place. we still had no room arranged in Diu, either. feeling a little miserable and self-pitying, Edd consoled himself by knowing deep down that he wasn't nearly fit or healthy enough to attempt the Shatrunjaya climb, while we both stuck by the clichéd maxim that things could only get better.
edd & philippa
- hurray, we leave Ahmedabad!
- the road to Palitana
- the best laid plans...
the benefits of having such a rare luxury as air conditioning are obvious in a country that can get as hot as India can, and we felt those benefits on what was our last night - finally! - in Ahmedabad. checking out at 5am involved waking the porter and night receptionist, who were sleeping by the desk. we had asked to check out earlier in the evening, but they had said it would be fine. we were a little crestfallen to discover that it was still stupidly warm for this hour of the morning. unlike all of the other major cities in which we have stayed, the Ahmedabad streets were virtually deserted, its inhabitants choosing not to take advantage of the relatively cooler temperatures, as they do elsewhere. the porter opened the shuttered grill to the entrance and hailed us an auto.
it was a strange experience speeding through the streets in the dawning light past the homeless and the half-disintegrated home we had seen previously propped up by sandbags. at the station, we managed to find our bus without too much difficulty, even though all of the signs were in Gujarati. we were half an hour early, but the bus was already predominantly boarded. a rough and ready collection or 2 and 3 seat groups separated by an aisle, it had the rigid seats and slightly darkened windows common with all state buses. in keeping with the wide variety of sources from which they seem to originate, the door's driver's area and general layout differ from bus to bus as much as the dilapidated state of their interiors and paintwork. Philippa managed to get a window seat as part of a group of 3, with Edd in the middle.
we'd been on state buses before to Deshnok and Kota, but this would be a longer journey and the main problem with Indian transport - for Edd - was again apparent. the leg room on a state bus is actually fairly decent, but it does not accommodate someone of Edd's altitude in anything other than a bolt upright position. Philippa's rucksack was already under her legs, while Edd's was scrunched very unceremoniously into the small overhead racks, necessitating a vast expenditure of sweat. between us, we were a might uncomfortable, to say the least. Edd had a slight and pleasant man in the adjacent seat, but he was not of a size to cause any additional issues of space. the other people on the bus regarded us with mild curiosity, no more. most of them had taken their chances with seat availability and were paying on board. several had the facial contusions or strange skull dents that confuse and fascinate in equal measure - what happens to make that sort of mark? in a country with so many unfortunate amputees, crippled and ill, it seemed a minor issue with which to deal. how lucky we are in the West.
if we had thought Ahmedabad polluted before, we didn't know the half of it. almost an hour passed before we finally passed out of its ungainly sprawl. new roads were being constructed in many places, accompanied by whole communities living on the displaced earth and waiting aggregates, small fires burning by groups of huddled people next to their few possessions or underneath a makeshift awning. the street communities in Ahmedabad were as extensive as the buildings were ugly and the development unchecked. it looked a particular degree of 'bad' in a way few places have to our eyes in India.
and the city was just the start. as soon as we cleared the outskirts, the factories began. facility followed facility, a continuous grey scar on the planet. convoluted twisting metal pipes and giant, rusting, warehouse-style sheds were the foundation for multiple small chimneys or large, dirty white behemoths, all belching our worryingly coloured smoke, more like escaping gas than the results of burning. we've never seen so many such plants in a row, and this went on for half an hour driving past at average speed. there were few if any dwellings here, and the reason for no photo evidence is that the duration of the bus' passing was marked by exercises in supreme breath holding. inhaling was a problem, as the air was strangled, weak and full of chemicals you could taste and feel. one breathe would go in and a headache would form, sharp and stabbing, as the end of its tendrils groped around the back of your skull. it was a truly horrible experience and went some way to explaining why the city's air was so heavy and uncomfortable.
eventually the factories began to thin out, interspersed with ploughed fields and even a few homes, but they were long gone before breathing in was pleasant again.
our bus, featuring a tired Philippa staring from one of the windows.the journey itself was quite ordinary, in the best possible way. the bus kept good speed despite frequent stops and one long comfort break where Edd finally got to stretch his legs, a very welcome relief. [Edd: India is too short. I have decided.] the other passengers kept themselves very much to themselves in a vaguely British way and paid us little attention, quite unusual in our Indian experience. the bus was occasionally overloaded but not by many people and never for too long. the sun was even on the other side of the vehicle from us. all in all, it was as comfortable as a five hour plus bus journey can be when you are wedged tightly into a chair by your knees.
colourful transportaway from Ahmedabad's factories, the landscape took on a distinctly Rajasthani feel, with dry earth and dust dotted with brittle shrubbery and occasional trees. as we finally neared Palitana, we could see in the distance a high, spiked mountain. Philippa half-joked that it must be Shatrunjaya, our reason for being on the bus at all. sadly she was correct. the spikes turned out to be temples far away in the distance and the 'hill' we had been expecting looked instead exactly like an extinct volcano. it was a mountain and no mistake, with no vegetation or cover. and we were just going to pop up its 3,750 steps in 2 hours in 40C or more heat? even the photographs of the extraordinary city of Jain temples at the summit were barely a match for the common sense practicalities of whether or not we could manage it, as well as whether or not we should even try, considering Edd's recent heat-related ill-health.
Palitana was a one road town covered in Gujarati scribbles and no English script anywhere - plus ca change. we fought off a few excitable auto-rickshaw drivers who all assumed that we were staying at the Hotel Sumeru, where we had originally booked. the temperature was as to be expected at midday - silly. we didn't see the point in getting a rickshaw a few hundred yards and walked back down the road and through a lot of greetings to find the Sumeru. one man from whom we sought directions nodded and thumbed up the road, Indian style. the hotel was, of course, down a side-road behind him.
the large, lifeless reception felt like the entrance way of an abandoned comprehensive school, heightened by the hotel's wide staircases and slotted, backless steps. the slouching manager said that they were pretty much full now that we were day late, although we made sure to mention that his phone didn't work. if he was full, his tenants must be some of the quietest in India, a country not known for its decorous hotel clientele. he showed us two non-AC rooms that retained the dusty, derelict academy feel and were a little reminiscent of the half-arsed approach of Ahmedabad's Hotel Ajanta. unimpressed, we decided to retrace our steps exactly to the Hotel Shavrak, opposite the bus station, where did at least have an AC room booked.
sweaty and highly uncomfortable, we finally reached the Shavrak and they did at least still have our room. regrettably, the hotel was presented in the same fashion as the Sumeru, only by someone who had left that hotelier's course half-way through. the AC was good and the room was huge, but dirty and unkempt, with the provided towels dirty and moth-eaten, a toilet that did not flush and a shower so weak it was like faeries weeing on you, Philippa surmised. R800 a night, robbery of the most overt kind. they really know that options are limited in Palitana, or at least those hotels we knew of at the time.
half way through check in, Edd noticed something was not right. rushing upstairs in some hurry, illness had hit again! still, there was no way he was going to miss his long-cherished trip up to the mountain of temples. [Edd: sadly, I was very much mistaken - I would not leave the hotel again, or even the room, until we left the town altogether.]
Edd took some medicines and almost immediately had problems as it got to work. violent stomach cramps began and continued for a frankly distressing 7 hours, irrespective of the drugs that he took. doubled up in pain and unable to do anything at all, the afternoon was taking on significant and unwelcome deja vu qualities. while Edd busied himself with getting maudlin and depressed, Philippa was very concerned and anxious - should a doctor be called? our Shatrunjaya plans ebbed away with each stabbing pain. this eventually moved, then continued to do so, and it strongly suggested not classic 'Indian sickness' but a bladder infection. this proved to be the case. how had that been contracted? well, somewhere like India, it's not difficult to guess. India is such a dirty country it's sometimes difficult for a Westerner to comprehend how it is often cited here that Westerners have dirty habits.
Philippa spoke up for both of us when she said that there was no way that she was going to let Edd even attempt Shatrunjaya after the last three days. what rotten luck. Edd had hardly been unwell whatsoever for the entire trip to date, whereas Philippa had had a few bouts of illness, but now illness was keeping Edd from visiting - or at least trying to visit - something he was desperate to experience, only just after preventing us from leaving somewhere we were desperate to get away from. Palitana is a nothing, end of the line town. the only reason it exists is as a base for treks for pilgrims and some tourists to Shatrunjaya. it was a long way to get here and now it felt like it had all been for nothing.
Philippa had heard from the hotel receptionist that we could get to Diu on a 7 hour bus or two, or a 4 hour taxi. the latter would, of course, be quite expensive, but the last few days had got to us to the point where we had had just about enough. Philippa asked him to book us one for tomorrow.
[Edd: while she popped out to buy drinks and snacks, I couldn't even move around until around 7pm. if felt a bit like another whole day had been trashed, and with it the one thing I had most wanted to do in Gujarat.] it would probably be a few days before Edd was strong enough to have even been able to attempt a trip up Shatrunjaya, so maybe it was a good thing that we didn't stagnate in Palitana just to find out, but it didn't feel that way at the time. it felt like a failure.
the hours ticked by, helped by TV and old Charlie Chaplin films on one of the cable channels. tomorrow, we leave a town we've barely even seen and without accomplishing the only reason we came here in the first place. we still had no room arranged in Diu, either. feeling a little miserable and self-pitying, Edd consoled himself by knowing deep down that he wasn't nearly fit or healthy enough to attempt the Shatrunjaya climb, while we both stuck by the clichéd maxim that things could only get better.
edd & philippa
Ahm-Edd-a-bad
Monday 26th May
- trapped in Ahmedabad - and ill!
Gujarat's capital city is not one of our favourite places, to be sure, and we were keen to leave as soon as possible. but, regrettably, today was not to be as planned - the chief reason for which was Edd. [Edd: I'd woken at around midnight after finally managing to grab a mere moment's shut eye after hours of restless turning. hot, feverish and delirious, the malaise of the previous afternoon had returned with venom.] despite all of the wet towels, neither of us had got much sleep and Edd's temperature wasn't going down either. Philippa excelled in the Florence Nightingale role despite not inconsiderable anxiety on her part. damp sheets were administered to fevered brows and the towels were soaked again (in the shower!). we gave it a few hours, during which Edd faded in and out of consciousness and flailed around a lot. allegedly. when the just before 5am alarm went off for our departure for the state bus to Palitana, Philippa made the entirely common sense executive decision that we weren't catching any buses today. we'd be stuck in Ahmedabad for at least another day.
since Edd was a limp wreck, we waited a few hours of still hotness before Philippa asked the management if there was an AC room to which we could retreat. taking the fan-only room to save money, in this instance, had proven to be a false economy. fortunately, the hotel was able to oblige, with a replacement just around the corner. although smaller in overall size, it was further away from the road and outside noise and had a truly chilling AC. perversely, after spending so long trying to keep Edd cool, the main problem now was ensuring that that he didn't get too cold! within a few hours, Edd had gone from shower-soaked towels and sheets to being wrapped in a blanket. but it did mean that both is us finally got some sleep.
hours passed.
Edd began to feel a little stronger, as well as hungry! so, we ate a late lunch downstairs, our first food of the day. our desire to leave Ahmedabad was now, of course, stronger than ever, and Edd felt well enough for us to take a rickshaw to the state bus stand and repeat yesterday's paltry transaction, with the seat numbers we were given even being suspiciously identical. this time we had the added bonus of being served by a woman with enough English to tell us the journey's duration (6 hours) and place of departure in the station, so it wasn't quite a Groundhog Day situation. the weather was stuck on repeat, however; stifling, intense heat, untroubled by any breeze and exacerbated by air chewy with pollutants.
Ahmedabad was one of the 10 most polluted cities in the world a few years ago, and we doubt very much that this will have changed. our sometimes inaccurate guidebook states that 60,000 new vehicles squeeze onto its roads every year. at this rate, you won't be able to see from one side of the street to the other for exhaust fumes. Philippa phoned her mum from a nearby STD stand, while at a counterpart, Edd tried to change our Palitana bookings to accommodate the day's delay. the phone number was now out of order and, while something of a change from not being answered, this seems to happen whenever you need to get hold of someone. Palitana seems to be a two hotel town, and we managed to secure a rather expensive (AC) room for tomorrow at Option #2.
once more we pass the house which no longer has any sides to speak of.
today, we feel a strange kindred with it.
the icy arms of the AC encircled us again when we got back to the Hotel Good Night. getting out and about had been a good move despite the discomfort of doing so in the middle of the afternoon. a new ticket meant a new way out of the city, cause enough for celebration. it's difficult to say if we would be less hard on Ahmedabad if Edd had not been so ill, but we think that our viewpoints would not differ that greatly. by the late afternoon, Edd was well enough to nip out on his own and walk the few hundred yards to the internet cafe to do a little blogging and emailing. after a day spent in bed half-watching television, it was important to get out and do something before going completely stir crazy, almost as much as because healthy levels had been restored. this blog is falling far behind, now, after enforced absences from internet cafes and uploading restrictions. it's frustrating and annoying, but we're doing everything that we can - we hope you understand!
our second, final meal in Ahmedabad was taken at the Kalapi. after all of Edd's health woes, he was reduced to eating sweet and sour veg and boiled rice in a country stocked with such exquisite foodstuffs. we repeated our drinks purchase journey of yesterday for another early start, this time pursued by a relentless beggar woman who actually ran after Philippa in a dashed street pursuit before Edd intervened. the locals, clearly no fans of the homeless, joined in and told her to clear off in no uncertain terms. the final result was the opposite of what we would have intended, but the general aim of many beggars here appears to be so vexatious that payment is made to get rid of them, an attitude that can be too much to deal with sometimes.
in a room far more suited to sleep before a journey, we found ourselves watching the sci-fi martial arts mess of a film that is Black Mask II - City of Masks. genetic mutants disguised as professional wrestlers were turning into strange, uncontrollable beasts, and only a rogue genetically engineered enhanced human could save us; provided he could escape the attentions of his counterpart and nemesis sent to kill him by the super-brain that designed them both, as well as avoid turning into a panther. it's worth noting that we checked, and Edd's fever had not returned, nor had Philippa contracted one. nevertheless, it seemed a suitably hallucinogenic end to a feverish and best forgotten day.
it felt a lot like we had lost a whole day of our trip for a stupid hat error. [Edd: Philippa had done a fantastic job of bringing me around and out of the fever.] we crossed all possible appendages and prayed we'd be out of here, finally, tomorrow.
all the best
edd & philippa
- trapped in Ahmedabad - and ill!
Gujarat's capital city is not one of our favourite places, to be sure, and we were keen to leave as soon as possible. but, regrettably, today was not to be as planned - the chief reason for which was Edd. [Edd: I'd woken at around midnight after finally managing to grab a mere moment's shut eye after hours of restless turning. hot, feverish and delirious, the malaise of the previous afternoon had returned with venom.] despite all of the wet towels, neither of us had got much sleep and Edd's temperature wasn't going down either. Philippa excelled in the Florence Nightingale role despite not inconsiderable anxiety on her part. damp sheets were administered to fevered brows and the towels were soaked again (in the shower!). we gave it a few hours, during which Edd faded in and out of consciousness and flailed around a lot. allegedly. when the just before 5am alarm went off for our departure for the state bus to Palitana, Philippa made the entirely common sense executive decision that we weren't catching any buses today. we'd be stuck in Ahmedabad for at least another day.
since Edd was a limp wreck, we waited a few hours of still hotness before Philippa asked the management if there was an AC room to which we could retreat. taking the fan-only room to save money, in this instance, had proven to be a false economy. fortunately, the hotel was able to oblige, with a replacement just around the corner. although smaller in overall size, it was further away from the road and outside noise and had a truly chilling AC. perversely, after spending so long trying to keep Edd cool, the main problem now was ensuring that that he didn't get too cold! within a few hours, Edd had gone from shower-soaked towels and sheets to being wrapped in a blanket. but it did mean that both is us finally got some sleep.
hours passed.
Edd began to feel a little stronger, as well as hungry! so, we ate a late lunch downstairs, our first food of the day. our desire to leave Ahmedabad was now, of course, stronger than ever, and Edd felt well enough for us to take a rickshaw to the state bus stand and repeat yesterday's paltry transaction, with the seat numbers we were given even being suspiciously identical. this time we had the added bonus of being served by a woman with enough English to tell us the journey's duration (6 hours) and place of departure in the station, so it wasn't quite a Groundhog Day situation. the weather was stuck on repeat, however; stifling, intense heat, untroubled by any breeze and exacerbated by air chewy with pollutants.
Ahmedabad was one of the 10 most polluted cities in the world a few years ago, and we doubt very much that this will have changed. our sometimes inaccurate guidebook states that 60,000 new vehicles squeeze onto its roads every year. at this rate, you won't be able to see from one side of the street to the other for exhaust fumes. Philippa phoned her mum from a nearby STD stand, while at a counterpart, Edd tried to change our Palitana bookings to accommodate the day's delay. the phone number was now out of order and, while something of a change from not being answered, this seems to happen whenever you need to get hold of someone. Palitana seems to be a two hotel town, and we managed to secure a rather expensive (AC) room for tomorrow at Option #2.
once more we pass the house which no longer has any sides to speak of.today, we feel a strange kindred with it.
the icy arms of the AC encircled us again when we got back to the Hotel Good Night. getting out and about had been a good move despite the discomfort of doing so in the middle of the afternoon. a new ticket meant a new way out of the city, cause enough for celebration. it's difficult to say if we would be less hard on Ahmedabad if Edd had not been so ill, but we think that our viewpoints would not differ that greatly. by the late afternoon, Edd was well enough to nip out on his own and walk the few hundred yards to the internet cafe to do a little blogging and emailing. after a day spent in bed half-watching television, it was important to get out and do something before going completely stir crazy, almost as much as because healthy levels had been restored. this blog is falling far behind, now, after enforced absences from internet cafes and uploading restrictions. it's frustrating and annoying, but we're doing everything that we can - we hope you understand!
our second, final meal in Ahmedabad was taken at the Kalapi. after all of Edd's health woes, he was reduced to eating sweet and sour veg and boiled rice in a country stocked with such exquisite foodstuffs. we repeated our drinks purchase journey of yesterday for another early start, this time pursued by a relentless beggar woman who actually ran after Philippa in a dashed street pursuit before Edd intervened. the locals, clearly no fans of the homeless, joined in and told her to clear off in no uncertain terms. the final result was the opposite of what we would have intended, but the general aim of many beggars here appears to be so vexatious that payment is made to get rid of them, an attitude that can be too much to deal with sometimes.
in a room far more suited to sleep before a journey, we found ourselves watching the sci-fi martial arts mess of a film that is Black Mask II - City of Masks. genetic mutants disguised as professional wrestlers were turning into strange, uncontrollable beasts, and only a rogue genetically engineered enhanced human could save us; provided he could escape the attentions of his counterpart and nemesis sent to kill him by the super-brain that designed them both, as well as avoid turning into a panther. it's worth noting that we checked, and Edd's fever had not returned, nor had Philippa contracted one. nevertheless, it seemed a suitably hallucinogenic end to a feverish and best forgotten day.
it felt a lot like we had lost a whole day of our trip for a stupid hat error. [Edd: Philippa had done a fantastic job of bringing me around and out of the fever.] we crossed all possible appendages and prayed we'd be out of here, finally, tomorrow.
all the best
edd & philippa
What would Ghandi say?
Sunday 25th May
- the Ghandi Ashram
plus
- Edd regrets a hatless day earlier in the week
fine comfort and great showers are still of little help when your room is uncomfortably hot. Philippa got very little sleep, having to lie on wet towels to even approach a degree of comfort, hardly ideal. the fan helped a bit, of course, but at times it felt like it was only circulating hot air. outside was very much a ramped up version of our room; hot, stifling, quite oppressive. an ATM visit, as ever, provided a physically shocking contrast, as they universally possess the best AC of anywhere in India. it's like stepping into a freezer. the fact that it's also usually the backdrop for people living in the streets is a bitter contrast. it may also explain why so many ATMs have armed security guards, to ensure that those with money are not bothered by having to deal with those that don't.
a rickshaw took us across the river and North to the Sabarmati Ashram, set up by Ghandi in 1917, and now a well organised and free museum. its principles were simple and magnanimous; to strive for the abandonment of possessions and desires, as well as the pursuit of the love of all of one's fellow men, hard work for the benefit of one's immediate community, prayer, meditation and abstinence. what would he have made of the cloistered, pod-world of the guarded ATMs?
a centre in the grounds of the Ashram preaches some worthy ideals,
if challenging for a Western audience.
on reflection, later that day, it was also worth wondering what the champion of Indian values and products over those imported from the West, this extraordinary campaigner for the removal of inequalities and the caste treatment of the so-called 'untouchables,' would have made of our journey to the ashram he set up to further those principles and spread the word. the road was peppered with boutiques, luxury car and van stores, and a McDonald's. on the last main road to the ashram, which is even called Ashram Road, a huge slum area opened up on our left, a dirt road lined with a city of corrugated shacks, their roofs weighed down with broken rubble. there was a clear line where development and money stopped, almost like an invisible barrier, with each of the two sides of the city's community filling right up to it without interaction or acknowledgement. a small child with very apparent diarrhoea squatted at the edge of the road, unnoticed. in many ways, India has gone backwards since independence and from Ghandi's ideals.
the ashram is a modest acreage of grass and trees around dirt paths and a scattered number of single storey buildings with tiled roofs, painted white. it was here that Ghandi entertained world leaders when they visited him. his simple and to-the-point subsistence room is here, set up with his spinning wheel for local Indian khadi cloth, a fine symbol of independence.
it was also here that he set out on his 400km walk to Dandi to collect salt from the sea in defiance of this British tax for the one of the basic necessities of life. consequently, there is a lot to tell of the ashram is Ghandi's life, as well as a fine walk through his entire personal and philosophical history. the museum copes admirably with this weighty task, and is the one other thing that we would encourage people to visit if in Ahmedabad other than the Calico Museum of Textiles (see our blog page for details of our visit). to learn of the unique contribution of this one man to both Indian and world history in more detail is a must, and to be able to do it where it all actually happened is invaluable.
when we arrived at the ashram, early, the grounds were virtually deserted. the only exception was a group of children responding animatedly to some form of class, spread out on a rug to one side of Ghandi's house. the numbers of visitors swelled, being a Sunday, but the grounds and possibly the location kept things quieter than usual (Indian's often make very noisy tourists). did they make any connection between Ghandi's teachings in the museum and the relentless commercials and consumerism on display on their televisions, or the poverty and stark inequalities on display right outside the ashram entrance?
did they also notice the view afforded by the Sabarmati River? although it was hard to believe it in this heat, Gujarat suffered severe floods a few years ago and massive flood defences were being constructed on the currently bone dry bed of the river. on the far side, a huge mini-city of shacks and lean-to's had been cobbled together from metal scraps, stone cast offs and rags. you see this around most major projects, here. the scheme draws in workers and their families just follow and throw together dwellings right next to the construction. behind them, a tall factory chimney spewed out thick black smoke into the sky. it was a far cry from the placid gardens of the ashram on the opposite bank.
Edd hadn't been feeling great all day, so we spent some time sitting in the shade and watching squirrels tear about - we never seem to get tired of their frantic antics. another auto-rickshaw took us home, where Philippa got her camera batteries from the nice man who had opened his shop especially for her, and on time, too. we crossed the road directly and had lunch at the Kalapi restaurant, immediately noticing its cooling AC interior. Edd still felt odd, so he played it safe with South Indian uttapams, rice-based pancakes much like pizza, and a mouth-surprising thick, mixed fruit lassi with cashews.
recharging batteries at the hotel, literally in Philippa's case, Edd found that he could not sleep, write or rest comfortably. overheating, he had a shower to try and cool down. [Edd: my reaction was as unexpected as it was alarming. I started shivering uncontrollably, almost as if I had hypothermia. I thought that I was freezing, but Philippa confirmed that my temperature was feverishly hot. unable to regulate my body temperature, Phillipa took excellent care, with cold flannels or blankets as appropriate.] the memory of Edd's disgruntled and hat-less trek to find an STD phone two days previously came back very clearly. the state that Edd was in gave us both a real shock and any plans that we might have had for the afternoon were immediately thrown out. Edd burned and froze alternately for hours until he began to get control of his temperature again, and it was not until the evening that he felt up for a short walk to somewhere to eat.
we chose the Paramount again; although Edd wasn't entirely sure about his minced chicken steak with pineapple - Indian cuisine?! - the atmosphere, curtained booths, and especially the AC, was as welcoming as before. afterwards, we managed to find a drinks shop to purchase provisions for tomorrow's early start bus journey to Palitana. still at a low ebb, we packed in a day that had started well but had then been rather unpleasant for us both in different ways, due to Edd's probable heatstroke. the ceiling fan worked hard to cool us down, but it was another oppressive night. Philippa's wet towel bed idea of the night before was now in use by us both. it seemed that the curse of the night before travelling with an early start was upon us once more.
[Edd: I felt unwell, miserable and too hot to sleep. I am sure that I would have failed miserably at Ghandi's ashram].
love
edd & philippa
- the Ghandi Ashram
plus
- Edd regrets a hatless day earlier in the week
fine comfort and great showers are still of little help when your room is uncomfortably hot. Philippa got very little sleep, having to lie on wet towels to even approach a degree of comfort, hardly ideal. the fan helped a bit, of course, but at times it felt like it was only circulating hot air. outside was very much a ramped up version of our room; hot, stifling, quite oppressive. an ATM visit, as ever, provided a physically shocking contrast, as they universally possess the best AC of anywhere in India. it's like stepping into a freezer. the fact that it's also usually the backdrop for people living in the streets is a bitter contrast. it may also explain why so many ATMs have armed security guards, to ensure that those with money are not bothered by having to deal with those that don't.
a rickshaw took us across the river and North to the Sabarmati Ashram, set up by Ghandi in 1917, and now a well organised and free museum. its principles were simple and magnanimous; to strive for the abandonment of possessions and desires, as well as the pursuit of the love of all of one's fellow men, hard work for the benefit of one's immediate community, prayer, meditation and abstinence. what would he have made of the cloistered, pod-world of the guarded ATMs?
a centre in the grounds of the Ashram preaches some worthy ideals,if challenging for a Western audience.
on reflection, later that day, it was also worth wondering what the champion of Indian values and products over those imported from the West, this extraordinary campaigner for the removal of inequalities and the caste treatment of the so-called 'untouchables,' would have made of our journey to the ashram he set up to further those principles and spread the word. the road was peppered with boutiques, luxury car and van stores, and a McDonald's. on the last main road to the ashram, which is even called Ashram Road, a huge slum area opened up on our left, a dirt road lined with a city of corrugated shacks, their roofs weighed down with broken rubble. there was a clear line where development and money stopped, almost like an invisible barrier, with each of the two sides of the city's community filling right up to it without interaction or acknowledgement. a small child with very apparent diarrhoea squatted at the edge of the road, unnoticed. in many ways, India has gone backwards since independence and from Ghandi's ideals.
the ashram is a modest acreage of grass and trees around dirt paths and a scattered number of single storey buildings with tiled roofs, painted white. it was here that Ghandi entertained world leaders when they visited him. his simple and to-the-point subsistence room is here, set up with his spinning wheel for local Indian khadi cloth, a fine symbol of independence.
it was also here that he set out on his 400km walk to Dandi to collect salt from the sea in defiance of this British tax for the one of the basic necessities of life. consequently, there is a lot to tell of the ashram is Ghandi's life, as well as a fine walk through his entire personal and philosophical history. the museum copes admirably with this weighty task, and is the one other thing that we would encourage people to visit if in Ahmedabad other than the Calico Museum of Textiles (see our blog page for details of our visit). to learn of the unique contribution of this one man to both Indian and world history in more detail is a must, and to be able to do it where it all actually happened is invaluable.
when we arrived at the ashram, early, the grounds were virtually deserted. the only exception was a group of children responding animatedly to some form of class, spread out on a rug to one side of Ghandi's house. the numbers of visitors swelled, being a Sunday, but the grounds and possibly the location kept things quieter than usual (Indian's often make very noisy tourists). did they make any connection between Ghandi's teachings in the museum and the relentless commercials and consumerism on display on their televisions, or the poverty and stark inequalities on display right outside the ashram entrance?
did they also notice the view afforded by the Sabarmati River? although it was hard to believe it in this heat, Gujarat suffered severe floods a few years ago and massive flood defences were being constructed on the currently bone dry bed of the river. on the far side, a huge mini-city of shacks and lean-to's had been cobbled together from metal scraps, stone cast offs and rags. you see this around most major projects, here. the scheme draws in workers and their families just follow and throw together dwellings right next to the construction. behind them, a tall factory chimney spewed out thick black smoke into the sky. it was a far cry from the placid gardens of the ashram on the opposite bank.
Edd hadn't been feeling great all day, so we spent some time sitting in the shade and watching squirrels tear about - we never seem to get tired of their frantic antics. another auto-rickshaw took us home, where Philippa got her camera batteries from the nice man who had opened his shop especially for her, and on time, too. we crossed the road directly and had lunch at the Kalapi restaurant, immediately noticing its cooling AC interior. Edd still felt odd, so he played it safe with South Indian uttapams, rice-based pancakes much like pizza, and a mouth-surprising thick, mixed fruit lassi with cashews.recharging batteries at the hotel, literally in Philippa's case, Edd found that he could not sleep, write or rest comfortably. overheating, he had a shower to try and cool down. [Edd: my reaction was as unexpected as it was alarming. I started shivering uncontrollably, almost as if I had hypothermia. I thought that I was freezing, but Philippa confirmed that my temperature was feverishly hot. unable to regulate my body temperature, Phillipa took excellent care, with cold flannels or blankets as appropriate.] the memory of Edd's disgruntled and hat-less trek to find an STD phone two days previously came back very clearly. the state that Edd was in gave us both a real shock and any plans that we might have had for the afternoon were immediately thrown out. Edd burned and froze alternately for hours until he began to get control of his temperature again, and it was not until the evening that he felt up for a short walk to somewhere to eat.
we chose the Paramount again; although Edd wasn't entirely sure about his minced chicken steak with pineapple - Indian cuisine?! - the atmosphere, curtained booths, and especially the AC, was as welcoming as before. afterwards, we managed to find a drinks shop to purchase provisions for tomorrow's early start bus journey to Palitana. still at a low ebb, we packed in a day that had started well but had then been rather unpleasant for us both in different ways, due to Edd's probable heatstroke. the ceiling fan worked hard to cool us down, but it was another oppressive night. Philippa's wet towel bed idea of the night before was now in use by us both. it seemed that the curse of the night before travelling with an early start was upon us once more.
[Edd: I felt unwell, miserable and too hot to sleep. I am sure that I would have failed miserably at Ghandi's ashram].
love
edd & philippa
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