Author Archives: Laurel

About Laurel

Pittsburgh, PA native now residing in Dubai, UAE as an American expat.

Kerala, India [part 2] – Alleppey & Varkala

From Munnar our plan was originally to grab a bus back to Cochin and then snag a train to Alleppey where we would sort ourselves out a backwaters houseboat tour. In an act to save some time, we instead decided to get a driver  to taxi us from Munnar, directly to the much hotter, much more humid coast of Alleppey/Aleppuzha. We did this instead of bussing it from Cochin to Munnar as well and it seemed to make life much easier.

houseboats on Lake Vembanad

The journey out of the mountains however, was, putting it mildly, an absolute fucking nightmare. We had the worst goddamn driver. He honked at literally every car he passed/passed him (and I do mean literally). Everyone honks in India. It should be their national fucking anthem. But this dude went above and beyond. OK, that was annoying, but not life-threatening. Basically, this guy’s main driving tactic was to drive as if you’re playing an endless game of chicken. Drive on the wrong side of the road every opportunity you have directly at oncoming traffic. On narrow, windy mountain roads. When we got to the main road along the coast from Cochin to Alleppey, I though, OK, things will get better now – no more windy roads, this is kinda-sorta a proper dual-carriageway. Well, my nausea finally went away, but my nerves were wracked even further. This guy! He was clearly terrified on driving on a non-country road and this road had crosswalks and every time he came to a crosswalk (and there were many) I swear first he would speed up a bit (like when you’re trying to beat a yellow light) but then he’d chicken out and come to pretty much a screeching halt ON the crosswalk. It was unbelievable.

Worst driving I’ve ever experienced. Possibly the worst 4 hours in a car, ever. And no doubt I’ll soon see him again soon driving a taxi in Dubai.

We didn’t even have him take us all the way to our accomodation in Alleppey, because it was just too terrifying. We got out as soon as we could in town and then walked until it rained, then caught an auto-rickshaw the rest of the way.

Alleppey was OK. One thing I had noticed through this point was that India was far, far less foreign and exotic than I was hoping and was expecting it would be. Sure, the greenery and flora and fauna is a world away from the UAE’s, but the towns – Munnar, Alleppey, and quite likely the more modern bit of Cochin which I avoided, did not seem all that different from Dubai to me. This was a disappointment. Of course, the India we were seeing was nothing like the futuristic skyscrapers and ultra-malls of Dubai that most people are familiar with, but it was very reminiscent to the neighborhoods of Dubai that I had been residing in for the past 3 years (Satwa/Bur Dubai/Karama/Deira). And granted I find these areas interesting, but I don’t want to visit them when I’m on vacation. So that was a bummer.

a rice barge on Alleppey’s backwaters

Thankfully we didn’t really come to Alleppey to experience it. Our intention was to spend a day/night on a houseboat and tour the backwaters and then get out immediately after the backwater tour. I can’t find much to say on the backwater tour. Everywhere you read that the houseboats tours are the can’t-miss thing to do in Kerala. And while it was certainly good, I wonder if there wasn’t perhaps a better way to really explore the backwaters? The 1-bedroom houseboat was nice, but don’t come looking for luxury (although I think in some of the bigger 4 or 5+ bedroom models the lux factor is heightened). It was certainly a relaxing way to spend 22 hours (check in ~11:30am; check out ~9:30am) - just moseying along slow waterways covered by far-reaching palm trees. Passing by little villages and watching the daily life go on there, such as clothes-washing and bathing in the murky waters (clean!) that was seriously full of prehistoric-sized prawns (terrifying!). Drinking some booze, eating some freshy-prepared curry. There wasn’t much you could complain about.

lazy houseboating on the backwaters

our houseboat

The thing about it that kind of irked me, was that instead of docking the houseboat for the night in the lake feeding the backwaters (which apparently is not allowed so that the fishermen can properly utilize the lake in the evenings – fair enough) or at some other interesting location – nope, it was docked at exactly the same place we set off from. We were informed that this was a new(ish?) policy and houseboats may only dock for the night in their given parking space, basically. I did not know this in advance, but had I, I think the better option would have been to simply rent the houseboat for the day. Or even just rent a canoe and paddle through the backwaters myself.

I certainly do not think I’d want to do the houseboat tour during high season, though. We were there in low season and it was busy enough, I can only imagine the amount of traffic on the water during high season.

After unloading from the houseboat we began to head towards the train station where we assumed it would be easy to hop on a train and get to Varkala (as it’s on the line to Trivandrum). Ended up, I wrongly assumed that bit and the next train with a stop to Varkala wouldn’t be until mid-afternoon. Ugh. I did not want to stick around Alleppey that long, so the solution was to snag a bus. Also easier said than done. Where do we get the bus? Oh – just over there – we were told. NOT HELPFUL. So far in India, everywhere and everything was in English. Shop signs, menus, road signs – I mean it, everything! But how about the buses? Nope! Only Malayalam. Unfortunately I can’t read curly-ques and scribbles so confusion instantly ensued. Eventually – after about an hour – we did finally make it onto a bus that stopped near Varkala (in fun-to-pronounce Kallambalam) along with a few other equally-confused western backpackers also trying to find their way there.

tree decor, Varkala

Another somewhat less-than-enjoyable journey. No air conditioning (not a shock), no available seats, breathing 99% fumes & 1% oxygen (from this evening I lost my voice for a couple days and I mostly blame this fume-breathing), a few more games of chicken over the next few hours. After which we jumped into the most annoying autorickshaw ever to make it the rest of the way to Varkala beach. If you get in an autorickshaw and you want him to take you to somewhere to find accommodation, don’t let him know that you’ve yet to book a place. You will rue the day. Simply pretend you’ve booked “x” hotel and just have him take you there. These people apparently get commission from certain hotels if they drop you off there and you book a room, so if they realize you’ve not yet booked a place, you will simply be incessantly hassled to stay somewhere they get commission until you pretty much have to start screaming at the driver to shut up, turn around, and drive to where you want them to.

Thankfully, after this, we didn’t have to deal with any more taxis or rickshaw drivers for a week, because once we got to Varkala, we simply planted ourselves there.

Varkala cliffs & Papansam beach

By the time we got to Varkala in May, it was, like everywhere else in Kerala, low season, but unfortunately in Varkala this meant that a decent number of the shops, restaurants and accommodation were closed until autumn. This was a shame (the place I had really been looking forward to staying in ended up being closed) but the spot was still nice. And I finally felt like I was somewhere foreign. Parts of Cochin, Munnar, and Alleppey all reminded me of Dubai in ways, but hippie backpacker chilled out Varkala certainly did not. While long-time travelers through the country referred to Varkala (& Goa) as “a vacation from India”, I finally, properly felt like I was in another country that wasn’t the UAE.

every morning

In need of some relaxation, we eventually decided to simply spend the second and final week of our holiday in Varkala. Sure, it was pretty quiet due to much of it being closed. But enough was open to keep us entertained (although I think I drank the town out of the last of their white wine), we had met few travelers that were enjoyable to get to know during our stay there, and the cafes and beach were prime book-reading spots. I finally finished David Foster Wallace’s brute of a book, (but still very good) “Infinite Jest”! If nothing else, at least I accomplished that on this holiday.

Varkala’s palm-fringed cliffs with steep steps leading down Papansam beach are the very definition of a tropical postcard, and in the evening the cliff’s cafes and lounges lit up the clifftop with a (slightly) more exciting atmosphere.

sunset in Varkala & the clifftop cafes begin to light up

On the downside, the Indian ocean at Varkala’s Papansam beach is noted for its strong currents and dangerously strong rip current. Immediately upon getting into the water, the current makes itself known and is possibly one of the strongest currents I’ve ever encountered. Thankfully I didn’t have any run-ins with the rip current, but this was usually marked on the beach with red flags so that you could steer clear of it. Sadly, on the morning of our final full day in Varkala and India, I noticed a great deal of people lining the clifftop and down at the beach (so many in fact, we decided against going to the beach that morning). I assumed it was maybe a holy day (one side of the beach was always full of people performing religious – Hindi, I assume – rites). Eventually I learnt that a boy had gone for a swim that morning but got pulled out to sea by the rip current. The search was on for his body all morning, hence all the morbid gawkers. The boy’s body was eventually found late morning, and it was all extraordinarily sad. That current is clearly no joke and something to be wary of when in Varkala.

cliffside trollin

The low-season visit to Varkala has definitely piqued our interests however, and we’re hoping to be able to visit again this autumn for a weekend during high season (birthday fun in November, perhaps?) to see what it’s like when the party is in full swing. And apparently there is some quality partying going on there during the in-season. Fingers crossed I’ll find out!

And that was that, with the exception of the tedious Trivandrum airport. Hated it.

So, now I’m faced with a stretch of boring old quiet Dubai summer ahead of me. For months. No more major travel plans until autumn (although nowhere exotic, to my dismay) and currently only have a long weekend in England planned for late summer. Coincidentally, over Labor Day weekend. So HAH, I’ll finally have myself a Labor day weekend off again for once!

[ Alleppey & Varkala full photo album ]

[ read part 1 - Fort Cochin & Munnar - here ]


Kerala, India [part 1] – Fort Cochin & Munnar

Made it there. Finally. After weeks and weeks of passport/visa stress and just generally passing over the country to visit other places instead for the past few years, I finally made it to India. Albeit a very small portion of it.

Living in Dubai, one of my main goals when I go on holiday is simply to go somewhere green – and preferably tropical. This lead to my decision to check out India’s southern state of Kerala, although I initially tried to fit in a stop somewhere in the Indian Himalayas as well during my first draft of the travel plans. I quickly realized with only 2 weeks to travel and India’s travel system being a really unfunny joke, there was no way it would be possible to fit in both some of northern and southern India without being really rushed and spending literally days of my time en route on buses and trains.

So Kerala it was, and even that got whittled down from my initial plans. First planning to fly in at northern Kerala (Kozhikode/Calicut) and work my way down to Kovalam in southern Kerala, and then finally fly out slightly north of Kovalam at Thiruvananthapuram/Trivadrum, I decided even to cut out Calicut (which I was later told by other travelers was a wise decision) and touristy Kovalam and fly into Kochi/Cochin in central Kerala. My final travel outline had me in Fort Cochin, Munnar, Alleppey (backwaters), and Varkala. For 2 weeks, and people who really wanted to have the chance to relax a bit but still not do nothing, this plan worked out remarkably well. I learnt my lesson in Indonesia about planning to travel to too many stops in too large a space (I did not appreciate Java’s size until I tried to train across it) over too short a time. Indonesia was possibly my favorite holiday ever, but relaxing it was not (OK, maybe a little bit in those final couple days in Ubud, Bali).

Delight homestay, a heritage house

First stop, Cochin! At first I did not see any reason to stick around Cochin. I planned to pretty much fly in and head right out into the mountains and Munnar. In the end I decided not to rush so much and spend a couple nights in Fort Cochin first. I am so glad I did (in fact, I wish I had spent even more time there). Fort Cochin is the older section of Cochin, filled with Dutch, Portuguese, and British colonial-era buildings and is pretty picturesque due to its history. It’s also a hub for the spice trade and as you wander the streets, especially into Mantancherry, the air is simply thick with the smell of a mélange spices, not least of which is pepper.

walking into Mantancherry, through the spice markets

another curry, demolished

…which I guess brings us to the food of India. The curry here. Oh my goodness the fucking curry in this place.  So good. And the types of curry – utterly inexhaustible. And just from this region. I could go to northern India and discover an entirely different, but undoubtedly just as delicious selection of curries. I expected the curry to be good, but it went above and beyond my expectations. I did not have even one curry that disappointed me. The cheap curry was amazing, the expensive curry was amazing (although still cheap comparatively speaking to other countries), the simple curry was amazing, the vegetarian curry was amazing, the non-veg curry was amazing – have I painted the picture yet? It was all fucking amazing. So incredibly full of flavor and Kerala’s fresh fish curries were always stunning. The level of spice was a slight bummer though. I think, because we were westerners, often the dishes’ spice levels were toned down a touch to accommodate our dainty palates and stomachs, but in most cases I definitely could have gone for the dish to be spicier. Even when indicating that we wanted properly spicy dishes I still did not receive anything that was, for me, too spicy. So that was a bit disappointing, although I did meet other travelers who found their dishes to be too spicy, so perhaps the level of heat was up to par, but I’m simply used to it due to my Dubai curry habit (vindaloo? don’t mind if I do!).

the rather unique Chinese fishing nets

Fort Cochin is a superb location for walking. There are loads of quaint cafes and shops, heritage buildings, some fishing action via the distinct Chinese fishing nets, spice markets, lovely old churches and even some chic little boutique hotels (pop into Malabar House’s wine bar for a nice evening). You can walk along with little idea for where you’d like to go (which is pretty much how I walk anywhere because my sense of direction is non-existent) and probably find yourself content to take in the given surroundings.

I do not have such glowing remarks about our next stop, Munnar, which was a goddamned hole of a town (although the eatery Rapsey’s, in the bazaar, was excellent). If there’s one thing I can advise about potential visitors to Munnar, it is stay the hell away. I don’t even have photographs of the town because, frankly, I’d rather just forget.

cardamom galore

Let me be more specific. The town of Munnar is utterly wretched. The plantations and resorts in the surrounds are lovely. You can’t just go to Munnar town though and stay there, and expect to be able to trot off and go walking through the (gorgeous) hillsides. It’s just not that simple, sadly. We found out the hard way. Pretty much upon arrival in Munnar, the wheels in my head began spinning and formulating a plan to get the fuck back out. After spending one excruciating night there, we booked it out first thing in the morning and set ourselves up in a cozy homestay on a small (working) cardamom plantation located about 20km outside of the town.

Much  better. Basically set within the mountain jungle of the Western Ghats, this was closer to what we were looking for. Natural, peaceful, and clean. We were still unable to get that day trek in, but there were better opportunities for a nice walk around (and sneak into a neighboring cardamom plantation).

Also a great thunderstorm. Previous to moving to Dubai, rain on vacation was the worst – now I hope for it!

cardamom…

at Top Station

From here we were still able to head up to Top Station, located on the Tamil Nadu border, one of the highest points in the Ghats, and offers views of the surrounding mountain range. On the drive here there were plenty of opportunities to view the endless array of tea plantations and even take a stroll through them. Tea plantations are, in my opinion, almost criminally picturesque. While the leaves don’t really taste of tea – only leaf – you could still smell tea in the air at times.

… & tea!

To get to Munnar it took about 3 hours in a taxi from Fort Cochin. When we left, it was to next visit Alleppey/Alappuzha’s backwaters, which was an excruciating (and sometimes nauseating) 4 hour taxi ride away. But more on that later…

[ Fort Cochi & Munnar full photo album ]

[ read part 2 - Alleppey & Varkala - here ]


Come hate with me Monday: Deadwood’s cancelation

Yes, 6 years after the fact I am still pissed off that “Deadwood”, which remains to be my all-time favorite television show ever, was canceled without at least being given some kind of wrap-up to the story. The show had everything: historical figures, endless creative profanity, cocksuckers galore, lewd behavior, unabashed drinking, drug addition, fancy whores, dirty whores, asshole after asshole after asshole, and a skull confidante. How were more people not watching?

But nope. HBO just leaves you hanging there with the unresolved season 3 finale.

So many unanswered questions left. Will Al Swearengen ever clean up his dirty mouth? Will Bullock ever stop being a self-righteous cocksucker (actually I know the answer to this: no, because Timothy Olyphant can’t really play any other type of character)? Will Wu take over Deadwood in a surprise coup? Will I ever tire of Calamity Jane’s drunken escapades? Where do the fancy whores get their clothes made, because I want some?

So many things I just guess I’ll never know.


Come hate with me Monday: Elevator Etiquette

Or lack thereof, more accurately.

The elevator etiquette in Dubai is absolutely appalling. And this is real shame because this city is full of ridiculous fucking skyscrapers. It’s like real life Coruscant.

city-planet of Coruscant, from “Star Wars”

But in the “me first” culture of Dubai, no-one really has any kind of etiquette, let alone elevator etiquette, so I shouldn’t be shocked.

Once I was waiting for an elevator here in Dubai, and when it finally came and the doors opened, what did I see but someone literally hanging from the interior door frame like a monkey. Did this person offer to move, or even stop hanging? Nope. The door opened, a dude was hanging in the door, I stood there with my mouth agape completely flabbergasted, and the door closed. I waited for the next elevator.

Elevator etiquette is simple, and relieves a lot of stress, anger and annoyance from your fellow elevator mates. Follow these few basic steps, and you’re well on your way to being a better human being, less likely of a brutal beating from someone who has lost their patience or might just be having a bad day:

  1. While waiting for the elevator to pick you up, stand away from the door. Despite what you may think, the elevator is not activated by your body being pushed up against the sliding entrance doors. It is activated by buttons on the wall that you push. Like magic.
  2. When the elevator arrives, let the people inside out first. I know this sounds crazy, because obviously you’re more important than everybody else so it is IMPERATIVE that you get the fuck inside IMMEDIATELY, but trust me, everything will go much more smoothly if you just stand aside, leaving a clear path so people can leave the elevator, which in turn, leaves you more space to enter the elevator. Imagine!
  3. Once inside, stand away from the exit door.* Again, I know you’re more important than everybody else and that it’s your right to be the first to leave the elevator once you need to, but the advantage of standing to the side is that all those low life common people coming in and out before you get to your floor won’t be brushing their grubby selves against you as they try to get past the obstacle course that you have made of yourself. So do yourself a favor and move away from the fucking door.
  4. It’s your floor. And your turn to finally be an asshole if there’s some jackass standing directly outside of the elevator door blocking your exit because he so desperately needs to get in there NOW. Feel free to shove on by this rude Gus and deliver a “dude, you’re a real piece of shit” glare while you’re at it. Top with a ” Gawd, excuse you” if you’re feeling really agitated.

* If you choose to move aside and lean against the wall, be careful not to lean against the wall of 37 floor buttons and accidently press almost every one of them in a single moment of complete, oblivious stupidity. I can tell you from personal experience, this will not make you any friends. And if you do this, do not immediately start to laugh, even if you’re doing it as silently as possible with your face pressed into a corner of the elevator. You’re not fooling anyone because your body is shaking trying to contain the hysterics, and no-one else is finding it funny. In the end, you’ll really be the one to suffer because of course your office is on floor 36 of a 37-story building. Of course it is.


Come hate with me Monday: Greeting Cards

A while back I tried starting up a weekly themed blog post about stuff that I had newly discovered and/or like. It didn’t work out. I struggled to think of things each week (for the sad, few weeks I completed) that I liked enough to talk about. I like stuff, don’t get me wrong…but I’m just not into talking about it, I guess. I still want to give the weekly themed blog post thing a try though, so am re-booting and heading in the opposite direction.

Now I’m going to pick one thing every week that pisses me off and talk (more like, bitch, probably) about it. I mean, so many things annoy and piss me off in any given hour of any given day that I think this is a pretty inexhaustible list for me. And who doesn’t like to complain? I mean, seriously, it’s awesome (look! there’s something I like). Just look at any reviews website on the interwebs; they’re full of complainers happily kvetching. You know the likelihood of them leaving a review had they really enjoyed whatever it is they were reviewing is virtually nonexistent.

I’m going to do this every Monday, because Monday is always boring and my least-favorite day of the week. Keep in mind, in the UAE Monday is the second day of the week, not the first (and Thursday is our “Friday”). Back in the states Tuesday was my least favorite day. It’s just like, fuuuuck, there are still so many days left in the week and I already completed one whole day. I never really mind the first day of the week. I always feel like it goes pretty quickly due to the work that builds up over the weekend.

But I’m not here to complain about Monday/Tuesday. I’m here to tell you that I hate…

GREETING CARDS

I just don’t get them. Just tell me. And don’t expect one from me. I mean, are there people out there who receive a greeting card and go, oh my god, thank you so much for purchasing this overpriced piece of paper for me because, seriously, the words inside that were written by a stranger who probably hates his job are so touching, and just made me feel SO GENUINELY HAPPY. THANK YOU. That’s not meaningful.

99 times out of 100, I bet you that the only time a greeting card makes someone genuinely happy, is when they open it up and are greeted by some form of money inside. And then it’s no longer a greeting card, it’s just a $4-6 money holder.

Simply going in to greeting card stores is unpleasant as well. I don’t remember it being like this back in the states, but here, you walk into – or even near – a greeting card store and the employees are playing with all these really annoying products: flying bullshit, noise-making bullshit, throwing balls against a wall bullshit, mechanical toy bullshit. What the hell is going on in there, it’s like some kind of unholy amped up McDonald’s playplace.

What with email and social networking sites and that kind of stuff, maybe greeting card stores will go out of business soon. Who are still buying these things? Do greeting card companies still make a decent profit? Like them or not, they seem really outdated to me.

I hate when I feel obligated to purchase a greeting card (it doesn’t happen often, but maybe once every couple years, it does happen). It’s like something inside me dies. They’re just so sappy and cheesy I cannot stand it being associated with me. I am so much cooler than a greeting card. When I was younger, I used to always draw people cards, but now I’m too lazy busy for that.

The other day was one of these rare occasions and I at least tried to have some fun with my card buying: in addition to the card I had to buy for a real reason, I was going to buy the boyfriend a “sympathies” card and include a personal note saying “I’m sorry you’re a total douchebag” but I could only find “I’m sorry for the loss of your… daughter/husband/etc.”, and that seemed a bit too inappropriate, even for me. Greeting card store bummer strikes again.

Since I’m going to be traveling for the next couple Mondays, I’ve already written and scheduled May 14th’s post to go up. Join me next week, when I teach you the simple rules of elevator etiquette. Which no-one else but me has (in Dubai), of course.


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