Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Tamil Tapas


Munnar.

The coast to coast is over and I am back in Munnar recovering from yesterdays epic ride from Thenni on the Tamil plains back up to Munnar climbing over 2000 meters and cycling 90 k in the process. Massively boosted on the early bit of the climb with 4 extraordinarily beautiful French women pulled alongside in car to cheer me on and do a few “Allez” which caused an upsurge in speed that Lance Armstrong would have been proud of. Didn’t last long though as a whiff off me 800km unwashed shorts and a shirt stained with enough salt to kill off the worlds entire population of slugs became evident and the car sped on with only visions of a black haired beauty attempting to pass me a bottle of mineral water seared into my mind to spur me on for the next 6 hours riding.
The cycle touring was good pedaling through villages apparently untouched by time with strikingly blue kingfishers perched on poles in the endless sea of paddy fields a never ending sight As the legs tired though it was thoughts of that evenings hotel and a few glasses of ale that drove me on. Invariably though days dreaming of some semi luxury hotel to stay in were spoilt by hoteliers claims that they were “houseful” a term delivered with invariable smugness and contemptuousness it was if I was a like beggar being driven from the door. So it was night after night in grim, tomb like misery cells with sandbag pillows and incongruous numbers of light switches that serve no purpose.
The bars in Tamil Nadu though were always open and a bit more well lit then their Keralan counterparts. Beer here is expensive around 115rs a beer but you do get complimentary snacks served out of little bowls a veritable Tamil Tapas if you like. Carrots were sliced, eggs were cut, peanuts, cashews, bits of crackly shit, which tasted like wood, even mini bits of chicken in one place all complimentary with beer. Once you’ve eaten it the waiter waddles round and fills up your little bowls, as a compulsive grazer this was terrible news for me as found myself stuffing pounds of carrots and a years quota of eggs and even bits of wooden tasting shit down on most nights.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Valentines Day Massakka (with thanks to Yasser Arrafatt)

A warm welcome to you all. Events have unfolded at an alarming pace this last week as I have completed the Eastern half of the coast to coast road tour recci and am now in former French colonial territory of Pondicherry nursing myself back to health on some tax free ale. Managed about 600 km in 6 days. Satisfied with the cycling though bit of a shock to be in the saddle for hours on end day on the road.

All started in Munnar with a few more beers in the ice bar where I met up with a lovely lass from Cornwall seemed to get carried away a bit with the company and felt a bit tanked up after 4 Kingfisher escorted the young lady back to a Rickshaw and give her a friendly peck on the cheek for her troubles. A potentially fatal mistake!!! Let me explain.

In this the Age of the Kali Yuga strange forces are at work with the strangest of the malign forces coming in the guise of the Hindu Taliban read on

"Mangalore: Moral policing reared its head again, this time in BJP-ruled Karnataka where members of a right-wing Hindu group assaulted girls in a Mangalore pub, accusing them of behaving in an “obscene manner”. Eyewitnesses said the girls were chased and thrashed by activists of the Sri Ram Sena as they tried to flee from the pub on the busy Balmatta Road in the heart of Mangalore. There were also allegations that some of the girls were molested."

As a follow on to the attacks the groups leaders condemned the Westernisation of Indian culture in particular the rising popularity of Valentines day celebrations. (Given my desultory Valentines day card receivership figures I am all for this) the groups leaders including the absurdly named Mr Pumpwell aim to bring an end to the obscenity by forcibly marrying couples seen cavorting in public on the spot with the aid of a Hindu priest Which brings things back round to me. I could be looking at life on a farm in Lands End with a lovely Cornwallian lass now if I had been spotted.

So the rule here in India now is if you fancy married life just throw yourself on top of any decent unsuspecting lass you fancy in public and hope that Mr Pumpwell and the Priests are looking on at the same time. If they are not you could face a 10 stretch in the Pondicherry state penitentiary. Life's a gamble.

* Massacres aren,t particularly funny but if you have ever heard the word coming out of Yasser Arrafatts mouth you might cahnge your mind.