We took a rickshaw (the four of us -- three is already tight) to the bus station. When we were almost there, the driver turned off the rickshaw and was alternating between giving it pushes and letting it roll. Once the downhill slant stopped, he turned to us with a smile and gestured "no breaks". Nice.
We walked the rest of the way--just a half block through dozens of huge buses. Our Indian friend from Chennai came with us and seemed to know more of what to do than us, or had less patience for our antics. She darted between buses asking drivers and conductors hanging out of doors "Madikeri? Madikeri?" We slowly, from one bus to the next, were led to a bus on platform 6 that was rolling out of the station. "Madikeri? Madikeri?" He asked us. "Madikeri, Madikeri!" We replied. The bus looked stuffed. They told us to get on. We told them to wait because Leena had darted back into the madness for an ATM. She reappeared just when the conductor lost patience and we teetered onto the bus, down the aisle, and into four empty seats in the back.
The thing that people always tell you and the thing I forgot was so great in elementary school is that when you sit in the back, every bump that the front of the bus feels gets multiplied by 10. We bumped our way through Mysore and south toward Madikeri.
The scenery changes quite a bit, it turns very green and lush with tall trees. Coorg is an area that is famous for spices and coffee. Madikeri is one small town in the area. Our driver from the home stay was to pick us up there.
About three hours later we arrived--battered and weary. It was chilly and we wore long sleeves and it was raining but we brought umbrellas. The driver pulled in right away and we stuffed ourselves inside. "Hungry?" He asked. We all thought that a nice home cooked meal with tons of coffee was waiting for us. Confused, we relayed our Indian takeout order. This took a while. Finally, we were on our way to the home stay. Leena chatted in the front seat with the driver. Apparently, he was the brother of the lady who owned the homestay or something and that maybe tomorrow after work he would possibly take us on a tour of the plantation. Huh? I looked out the window at the crappy little houses on the side of the road and thought about how funny (not) it would be if one of these was our home stay.
We rolled up in front of a less than piece of shit, but for sure not, a 1020 rs per double room without food home stay. We all thought this was dude's house that we were going to eat at before heading to the home stay. But when we stepped inside, a lady started showing us the rooms and the sparse furnishings. "Do you want hot water?" They asked. Obviously. We were stunned. 1020 rs for two people with food not included and an unstocked kitchen and no one to cook for us and no electricity and no transportation included and no tours and not located in a scenic mountain/plantation and most of all no coffee. Not even a coffee maker. Not even a tea pot. Nothing. You have got to be kidding me. Oh and it was possibly going to rain all night so we could imagine ourselves sitting angrily in this crappy house with no food or electricity. No way.
"No way I'm paying that for this guys sorry." But where would we go? What would we do? I pulled out Lonely Planet and told someone to get out their cellphone and we started to make some calls. We found a place--Honey Valley--which sounded promising.
The home stay people didn't take the news graciously. Of my friends, one was silent, the other two apologetic. I was like--I'm sorry but you're crazy. I wouldn't have any of it. They were obviously trying to rip us off outrageously and they knew it. These were really rich people trying to pull one on us and I couldn't figure out what the point was and really just didn't have the patience for the whole production. To add insult to injury, the guy walked IN HIS SHOES (which were wet and dirty from the weather) through the house, through the bedroom, and into the bathroom to use the toilet. Grr.
We took a cab out of there to a place called Kakkabe. We listened to Indian hip hop and the driver would stop the car periodically to show us cardamom, coffee, and pepper growing in the fields that framed the winding road. It took us about a half hour to meet the jeep to take us the rest of the ride. We found out why the jeep was necessary as we were thrashed about--bags flying--for 30 minutes.
The home stay was at a lovely little lodge nestled amongst lush vegetation. Our rooms were nothing special and a little pricey for what they were, but we were happy to be in the environment we had envisioned and yes, there was coffee.
We went for hikes, we ate food, we had a fire. It was basically posh camping. Our room was, um, fun. There were leeches in the bathroom. Our bed was damp. There were no mosquito nets or screens. There was no hot water in the shower. We got leeches on our feet from the hike. We drank coffee. We ate food. We read and slept.
We came back the "authentic Indian experience way". One rural bus crowded with locals and screaming school children. We ran after a bus on its way to Mysore. We ran to the front of the bus to stop them from leaving our friend who went to pee behind.
All in all, good fun.
Got back last night about 8pm. Slept. Practice this morning. That's it.
We walked the rest of the way--just a half block through dozens of huge buses. Our Indian friend from Chennai came with us and seemed to know more of what to do than us, or had less patience for our antics. She darted between buses asking drivers and conductors hanging out of doors "Madikeri? Madikeri?" We slowly, from one bus to the next, were led to a bus on platform 6 that was rolling out of the station. "Madikeri? Madikeri?" He asked us. "Madikeri, Madikeri!" We replied. The bus looked stuffed. They told us to get on. We told them to wait because Leena had darted back into the madness for an ATM. She reappeared just when the conductor lost patience and we teetered onto the bus, down the aisle, and into four empty seats in the back.
The thing that people always tell you and the thing I forgot was so great in elementary school is that when you sit in the back, every bump that the front of the bus feels gets multiplied by 10. We bumped our way through Mysore and south toward Madikeri.
The scenery changes quite a bit, it turns very green and lush with tall trees. Coorg is an area that is famous for spices and coffee. Madikeri is one small town in the area. Our driver from the home stay was to pick us up there.
About three hours later we arrived--battered and weary. It was chilly and we wore long sleeves and it was raining but we brought umbrellas. The driver pulled in right away and we stuffed ourselves inside. "Hungry?" He asked. We all thought that a nice home cooked meal with tons of coffee was waiting for us. Confused, we relayed our Indian takeout order. This took a while. Finally, we were on our way to the home stay. Leena chatted in the front seat with the driver. Apparently, he was the brother of the lady who owned the homestay or something and that maybe tomorrow after work he would possibly take us on a tour of the plantation. Huh? I looked out the window at the crappy little houses on the side of the road and thought about how funny (not) it would be if one of these was our home stay.
We rolled up in front of a less than piece of shit, but for sure not, a 1020 rs per double room without food home stay. We all thought this was dude's house that we were going to eat at before heading to the home stay. But when we stepped inside, a lady started showing us the rooms and the sparse furnishings. "Do you want hot water?" They asked. Obviously. We were stunned. 1020 rs for two people with food not included and an unstocked kitchen and no one to cook for us and no electricity and no transportation included and no tours and not located in a scenic mountain/plantation and most of all no coffee. Not even a coffee maker. Not even a tea pot. Nothing. You have got to be kidding me. Oh and it was possibly going to rain all night so we could imagine ourselves sitting angrily in this crappy house with no food or electricity. No way.
"No way I'm paying that for this guys sorry." But where would we go? What would we do? I pulled out Lonely Planet and told someone to get out their cellphone and we started to make some calls. We found a place--Honey Valley--which sounded promising.
The home stay people didn't take the news graciously. Of my friends, one was silent, the other two apologetic. I was like--I'm sorry but you're crazy. I wouldn't have any of it. They were obviously trying to rip us off outrageously and they knew it. These were really rich people trying to pull one on us and I couldn't figure out what the point was and really just didn't have the patience for the whole production. To add insult to injury, the guy walked IN HIS SHOES (which were wet and dirty from the weather) through the house, through the bedroom, and into the bathroom to use the toilet. Grr.
We took a cab out of there to a place called Kakkabe. We listened to Indian hip hop and the driver would stop the car periodically to show us cardamom, coffee, and pepper growing in the fields that framed the winding road. It took us about a half hour to meet the jeep to take us the rest of the ride. We found out why the jeep was necessary as we were thrashed about--bags flying--for 30 minutes.
The home stay was at a lovely little lodge nestled amongst lush vegetation. Our rooms were nothing special and a little pricey for what they were, but we were happy to be in the environment we had envisioned and yes, there was coffee.
We went for hikes, we ate food, we had a fire. It was basically posh camping. Our room was, um, fun. There were leeches in the bathroom. Our bed was damp. There were no mosquito nets or screens. There was no hot water in the shower. We got leeches on our feet from the hike. We drank coffee. We ate food. We read and slept.
We came back the "authentic Indian experience way". One rural bus crowded with locals and screaming school children. We ran after a bus on its way to Mysore. We ran to the front of the bus to stop them from leaving our friend who went to pee behind.
All in all, good fun.
Got back last night about 8pm. Slept. Practice this morning. That's it.
Wow, what a trip!!! It sounds fun, though hectic--particularly with the argument at the first house. I wonder if they really thought you guys would stay there in such conditions. Ha!
ReplyDeleteleeches
ReplyDeleteyuck yuck yuck
wish i were there.
oh they really did think so! total poker faces. i cant even imagine how miserable it wouldve been. i cant even imagine how many other poor saps they will bring there!
ReplyDeleteyeah it was a crazy little adventure :)
what is it about leeches that makes them so icky? i'd have loved to pick the leeches off your feet!
That's My Girl!!!!
ReplyDelete