January 24 The Windows of Taj Mahal in Cochin

Joan has been having issues with her sinuses so wisely decided on a massage later today. We get going at 10 after a nice breakfast so were not rushed and enjoyed our leisure. Our dear driver, Kishur Kumar, arrived promplty, accompanied by a local guide, Nidu, who had a good day planned for us. He reported that Cochin, with a population of 1.5 million, is 40% Hindi, 30% Christian, and 30% Muslim. It's first known foreign visitors were the CHinese who contented themselves with trade. Then came a variety of Europeans, the military conquerers - Portuguese, Dutch, French and English who ruled until 1947 when the Raj finally ended. We saw Jew Town (only a few families left) dating from 200 C.E. and the still operating 16th century synagogue. Then St. Francis Church with Vasco Da Gama's original grave site, and, finally, the Dutch Palace and the Chinese Fishing Nets the latter being as they sound, a manner of fishing introduced by the Chinese and used today by local fishermen. We shop at 2 wonderful places, one a co-op run by local women where we bought spices and essential oils and next a fabulous store with teak and sandlewood furniture and wonderfully exquisite carpets. I was so happy to acquire a beautiful hand-woven rug for our entry. I t features a design called "the windows of the Taj Mahal". What better way to remember this journey. I can't wait to see it in our house. Be sure to stop by so that you can admire it to! We lunch at a local restaurant, letting the driver and guide have an early day so we walk back to the hotel, a 17-room colonial manor, for Joan's massage and my R and R. Up early tomorrow for our trip back to Dehli.

January 23 What Goes Up....

After the boat ride, we returned to our lodgings at Spice Village and its very beautiful grounds. We enjoy breakfast with exotice dishes, fruit and a tasty cinnamon yogurt. Now into the car for the 4 1/2 hour trip back down the mountain to Cochin. No small amount of dozing and we end at the Malabar Hotel where we're lead to our room dominated by one large bed. Ah... and the other bed would be? Were we not supposed to notice? There is some explanation as to why the 2-bed room was not available and we stand there looking at each other. Finally Joan says, "Can a bed be brought in?" so they roll in a cot which Joan will sleep on, bless her. After a bit we head out for a walk in the immediate area which includes a trip through the local bazaar ending at the water. I feel a little strange bein on our own, but no one pays too much attention to us. There are lots of people, lots of skinny animals, and lots of merchants eager to ply their wares. Back at the hotel we dine alfresco and are asleep by 9 P.M., party animals that we are.

1/23 No Lions, No Tigers, No Bears Oh My!

It's catching up to us a bit since we turned on our lights to read around 3 A.M. but small price to pay - we can doze on the ride back to Kochi this afternoon. We've got a 2-hour boat ride on lake Peniyar, the logisitics of which required 4 guides. Picture this: we are collected at 5:50 A.M. by a local guide and are driven in his small car through town to the gates of the Tiger Preserve. The queue is forming, our driver has secured a place in line with our touring vehicle and has also, we believe, gotten our tickets for the boat. The crowd deepens and becomes more animated. It's Sunday and a lot of Indians have traveled here for the boat ride. Everyone is watching for an official who will open the gate... a time or two it looks really promising and everyone revs up in anticipation. The clouds of exhaust are just the sign that it's almost time to go. Our guides hasten us to a tuk tuk positioned at the very front of the line. It's got an impossibly loud and rough idle and I cannot imagine that it won't stall. We sit in back swallowing unfiltered and noxious exhaust fumes. Still, we are thrilled when one side of the gate lifts and as many vehicles as possible surge through the funnel. We laugh like hyennas! We are damn near front runners but our driver slows down too much for the speed bumps and several others are willing to take to the air so they pass us up. Our driver puts 'er in passing gear and we FLY over the next bump, smashing down onto the road bed on the other side. Hard on the back, that. BTW, the bumps are to control traffic for the sake of all of the animals on the preserve. And here we are at the gate where the vheicles must stop. After screeching to a halt, our driver yells, "Run!" and we do. We can't keep up the pace the whole distance, but we decide to do what it takes to 1) not let anyone pass us and 2) over take the lady in the orange sweater who we can tell lacks an exercise program. We prevail on both counts. We're at the lake and go in to the building where we stand in line. We've udnerstood that admission requires both forms for entry and the boat tickets, but we have no idea about the logistics. As the place starts to fill with people, the official says that only one in the party is to wait in line. I leave because Joan has the money. (Typical, right Ron?) I take a few listless pictures, trying to trust in the process but indulging in some handwringing and wondering if I'll ever see Joan again. The guides are in the wind and the place is bulging with humanity. I befriend two elders from Arizna and they are appropriately concerned. Suddenly, I hear shouting from the building and when I express dismay, the man says, "On they're only talking to each other." NOT. Joan tells me later that she got in line as instructed but as more people arrived, the line degenerated and became more of a circle of people pressed against the counter. Shady dealings were discovered when the guides were found to have held the spots in line for the slower tourists who then began to arrive in droves and to take their places at the front of the line. Shouting, berating and recriminations abounded. My intrepid friend was neither cowed nor displaced although one of the crowd tried to elbow past. Those blue eyes turned steely and when she said softly, "Don't even think about it, buster," he stepped back. At the zero hour, Joan and the guide emerged from the building waving the tickets and we proceeded to the boat. Joan said, "There better be some animals after that experience!"

We sit on our boat for 45 minutes while all 4 of the boats fill up. We are behind a young man and woman who're part of a larger family from Madras, we learn. The young woman attempts a few words in English as we get to know each other. I take their picture and she insists that we share their food, some homemade. It takes very little kindness to bring out the generosity of almost all the people we've met.

The boat proceeds slowly around the lake for 2 hours with the return trip heading into the wind. We are freezing and cover our heads with our scarves. We see a few lovely birds, some wild boar off in the distance, but no tigers or elephants. That was a long shot anyway.

Our guide met us at the boat dock and on our way back to the car, found us monkeys of 2 varieties and fabulous Indian giant squirrels who can leap 20 feet. He's a sharp-eyed person, our driver, and very kind.

1/22 I'll Fly Away

Up around 5 but we didn't regret it because we'd gotten to bed early. Since we'll stay at this hotel for several days after joining the tour, we were able to leave our cold weather clothes behind, lightening the load to Cochin where we are headed this morning and where it was 90 degrees yesterday. Since it's Saturday, the traffic fairly light although we had no time to spare once we arrived at the airport. Not to worry since we discovered that all air space was restricted for 2 hours to allow the military practice time for the upcoming India Republic Day. Joan and I are convinced that there is a level of organization in the country although it is not immediatly apparent to visitors. We were late into Cochin (aka Kochi) so immediately began our 4 1/2 hour journey to Thekkady and the Tiger Preserve. We like our driver very much although his English is limited. We all make do and smile a lot. He is accommodating, stopping whenever I iwish to take a photo. An interesting way to see a portion of the state of Kerala and lifestyle of the people here. Some challenges since we are traveling up into the mountains on 2 lane roads. There is one hell of a lot of passing, especially since the tuk tuks travel pretty slowly uphill, but our driver is skilled and quick to see things of interest. He pointed out rubber trees, coffee bushes and various spice trees. It's the start of festival season here and he kindly stopped for us to see a huge parade of the faithful moving across the highway to the courtyard of a large Catholic church. There were brightly colored saris and jeweled umbrellas moving to the rhythm of a beautiful chant. Spiritual Bollywood. The people in Kerala have a different look from those in Delhi - shorter in stature dark-complected and dressed traditionally. The women are stunning in their saris. Our journey rated a 10 after we saw not one, but two elephants walking with their keepers from one temple to another. We weary travelers reached our lush accommodations at Spice Village about 7:30 P.M. where we were met with fragrant leis and offered a buffet dinner. We want to see these beautiful grounds in the morning light but we leave at 6A.M. for our boatride on Lake Periyar so the viewing will wait until our return.

1/21 A Taste of India

Our cooking class took place at the home of a middle class woman who kept us waiting for 1/2 hour while she completed a tour of the Spice Market with the third student comprising our class - a young woman from NYC. A bit of a mix up since we wanted to go ourselves, but we were mollified by a cup of excellent Chai tea and the thought that we were probably too tired for it anyway. Jyoti, our teacher, was personable and knowledgeable with excellent English. We were there several hours as she explaind the wonderful spices used in Northern Indian cuisine and made numerous dishes for our enjoyment. We got a booklet of recipes and a full course dinner to boot. Jyoti's assistant was a young Nepalese man named, from what we could tell, Bobby and pronounced Bowbie, as would the Brits. Jyoti spent a lot of time issuing instructions to Bobbie along with the occasional chastisement. Much of this was done to the closed kitchen door behind which Bobby was supposedly toiling. She explained that he was being trained and needed more attention than might be preferred. Bobby seemed to bear it all with an unconcerned shrug. Both he and another younger helper lived in Jyoti's home to handle her class set-up, serving, and clean-up along with the endless chopping required for the various dishes. I want a Bobby! For the actual cooking part of the class, we stepped out into a small stone patio which housed a two-burner gas stove on wheels. Handy when you're frying things not to have that grease in the house. Travelers must be adaptable, yes?, so we went right along when Jyoti dropped a piece of cheese onto the patio, rinsed it off, and popped it into the cooking pot. Waste not want not. Joan and I both favored the cauliflower vegetable with green chillies (their spelling), corriander, tumeric and cumin and we also liked the chicken rogan gosh prepared with mustard oil, anise, ginger, chilli and whole spices like cloves, cinnamon, cardamom and bayleaf. Are you hungry yet? It was a wonderful dinner. Balvander was waiting to drive us back to the hotel and although I noticed no let up in traffic, I fell asleep numerous times, waking only because of the annoying car ride head jerk. Delhi is 4.5 hours ahead of London, so sleeping thought the night may be challenging. We'll give it a go, heartened by the leg up we'll have on our fellow Road Scholar travelers when we start our tour next week.

Dishabille in Delhi

Beds on planes aside, my night's sleep was a scant two hours after which I lolled about on my chaise like a chubby Roman matron awaiting food and drink from my maidservant. Pretty good! Why meals are so important on planes is a phenomenon that must be related to the incredible ennui that sets in during long hours of flying. Upon landing, my disposition was considerably less than sunny and my tolerance for crowds and queues not abundant. But emerge we did into the Delhi sunlight with the hope of seeing CLAUSEN/OUDERKIRK displayed on a sign being held by one of the numerous young men lined up to transport their travelers. Our hopes were dashed as we went unclaimed. Finally, I said, "TCI?" (our tour company) to no one in particular and a kind soul united us with someone, albeit not our guide, from the company. We were soon properly connected and on our way in the incredible Delhi traffic. London was but a warm up, my friends. Sharing the roadways (not particularly wide nor well-maintained) were the following: cars, buses, taxis, tuk tuks, motorcycles, bicycles, stray animals, a man on horseback and pedestrians. Drivers seemed to find it most expedient to straddle lanes in order to increase their chances to advance. The timid would be doomed. From my vantage point, I was often closer to those in the neighboring vehicles than to Joan who sat next to me. Oh, and I noticed that the horse and driver arrived at our destination the same time we did. I despaired of getting to our hotel at all when I saw that it would require a left turn but, after a brief wait, mission accomplished. So happy to get to our room. I shouldered poor Joan out of the way to dive into the shower and emerged nicely revived. Loved seeing that hair dryer in the bathroom since mine had died an awful and fiery death in London. Something about the converter, methinks. This in spite of Ron demonstrating the workings to me before I left home. Heavy sigh. No dryer in that room, so I was styleless until we left London. After a brief rest, our driver picked us up for our afternoon outing. More traffic and we arrived just as the nearby school was letting out. I conjured up an unfortunate visual of uniformed children being mown down like matchsticks but not to worry - the kids managed, teeming conveyences nothwithstanding.

1/20 -1/21 LA TI DA!!

When we arrived at Terminal Five, we reaped the benefit of my wonderful friend and traveling companion, Joan, scoring business class tickeets to Delhi. We checked in and were directed to our lounge for free food, alcohol, soft drinks, computer use, etc. Did I mention that the bathrooms were excellent? We liked it! Now on to the plane where we bypassed the hoards to barely be seated before scoring a beverage and a menu for 2 meals. When Joan mentioned she wasn't hungry I told her to get over it. There were 2 nice Indian food entries for us to try, not to mention an interesting starter of lentil dumplings with yogurt and tamarind chutney. Our seats have us face-to-face but after take-off one can put up a screen if one doesn't like the proximity of one's neighbor. There is a fluffy blankie, some socks, a warm washcloth, and....wait for it.....a reclining chair with a separate foot rest that allows a fully prone position when you're ready for a bit of a lie-down. Happy, happy legs. Ron and I will have to parlay those frequent flyer miles into a business class upgrade when we go to Egypt!

January 21 Putting L. A.to Shame

Not as prisine today so the brellies were toted along, just in case. We planned the day rather carefully as it included breakfast, packing up, stowing the luggage and then setting off for as much adventure as could be managed within a 7 -hour window. We committed to walk from our hotel to Westminster Pier which took about 45 minutes at a brisk pace and, dressed more warmly than yesterday, we borded the boat for our Thames cruise in fine stead. We started with the "Eye of London", a huge ferris wheel, and progressed down the river toward the Tower of London where we debarked about 20 minutes later. As we approached London Bridge, I threw caution to the wind and ran upstairs to the open air deck with my camera. I think it was worth it but you can be the judge the photos when I get them up on my Kodak gallery in a few weeks. After a look around the ground at the Tower, we succumbed to the lure of Starbucks for a latte. Uff da (Norweigan for bah) - it was neither the quality or strength of my local store, but this is tea drinking country, after all. Finished with coffee, we considered our options for a second or two before scurrying back out into the cold and hopping into a cab. When I told our accommodating driver that we wanted to go to the Albert and Victoria Museum, he gently corrected me and said, "You mean the Victoria and Albert?" After I replied in the affirmative, he said, "The V and A, then." Ladies first, after all. The place is overwhelming, especially when you've only got a few hours. We spent quite a bit of time in the Asian art area, enjoying the mid-east and Indian sections in particular and lunching in a lovely cafe. Back at the hotel, we prepared to brave Heathrow and had a car service to transport us with an Indian driver from Mumbai. We had an hour's drive during which we got to know him because the traffic was terrible. Yes, it puts L.A. to shame,

January 19 Londontown

Slept soundly for 9 hours in a prone position. My legs were so thrilled! Joan got up, as is her way, bustling around the room in preparation for the day. I settled a shawl around my shoulders and began working a Sudoku. I thought it was very British of me to appear so in my cozy bed. Only guilt at holding her back got me to the ground and, eventually, out the door to a full English breakfast downstairs. While charming, all that fatty meat was a little much (apologies to my vegetarian friends.) The best part? Coffee! We walked a few blocks to Victoria Station where we boarded the hop-on hop-off bus for our day's tour of the city. Hampered by an inordinate amount of traffic on streets often undergoing repair, we made our laboreous way around London. BTW, the clerk at our hotel reported London's population at 2.5 million which swells each weekday to 7.5 million with the influx of worker bees. No one seemed to be absent from work today. Today's route included drive-bys of Hyde park, Kensington Gardens, Nottinghill and the Marble Arch, and then on to Sherlock Holmes' Baker Street, Piccadilly Circus (from the Latin for "circle"and indicating the famous round-abouts), and Trafalger Square. When we finally hopped off, I insisted on a walk back to the heavily gated and guarded 10 Downing Street for a photo and then we crossed to Westminster Abbey for a thorough tour. It was spectacular. When Ron and I come back, I'd love to attend a service here. Best things: Poet's Corner and the crypt of Queen Elizabeth I and Mary Queen of Scots, one buried atop the other. You're not surprised to learn that there is no likeness of Mary and that she lies on the bottom. There was a poignant tribute to the Unknown Warrior from WW I and I also took the opportunity to light a candle for those people known and unknown who are in need of prayer. The Abbey was originally a Benedictine monastary. No photos inside, please, but you'll all be able to see it for yourselves when you tune in to the pending nuptials of Prince William and his fiance. I admit that I cannot remember her name. London is happily anticipating the event and, no doubt, the revenues it will produce. Tonight we saw "Billy Elliot", the musical, at a near-by theater which was walking distance from our hotel. In the interest of full disclosure I report that our routes to and from were somewhat circuitous. Okay - we got lost. Solution ? Ask anyone, including bus drivers, for directions. They all seem happy to assist. Good lot these Brits. The show was very entertaining and we were glad we'd decided to forego dressing up in favor of dressing warmly. It was too bloody cold to worry about fashion and we did notice that most of the other theater goers seem to share our sensibilities. We set the alarm (Joan's phone barks - sigh) to be able to get done what needs doing so that we can complete our touring and get to the airport tomorrow evening. Good night to you then.

January 17, 2011 ACROSS THE POND

An uneventful trip to LAX with Ron at the wheel. A somewhat poignant goodbye as we've not been apart this long more than a few other times in our forty-five year marriage. I hurry to get out of the roadway so don't have time for tears but manage a heartfelt kiss and hug. I will miss him terribly. As a result of my handwringing over being late to the airport, we arrive with hours to spare and so give Ron the benefit of avoiding the worst of the rush hour en route home. Yes, it's bumper to bumper even on Martin Luther King Day. I am always thinking of my husband, yes? Joan and I settle back in the boarding area with a Starbucks latte and all of our diversions, happy as larks. And damn, the plane ends up to be half-empty. There's a bit of a stretch out possible during the wee hours of the night, even though my legs end up on the floor. Joan manages to curl up in two seats, but with my extra six inches of height, I can't quite manage it. Still, a few hours does help. The staff were very kind and, in spite of a bit of turbulence and me never figuring out how to work that damn game wand, the flight was pleasant and uneventful. By the time we land at Heathrow, the rain has stopped and the sun come out. Joan has cleverly brought along British currency so we grabbed a cab and we're off. Nice, boutique hotel in the middle of a lovely area. Tomorrow we'll be walking. Today we contented ourselves with a look around the hotel neighborhood and a cab ride to Harrod's for shopping (we looked and did not buy) and a great dinner. It's quite a place. I was a taken aback by the shrine to Diana and Dodi mid-store, but his father did purchase Harrod's, so there you go. I got some good pictures but will not do anything with my photos until I can come home and properly edit them for your viewing pleasure. Meanwhile, goodnight dear family and friends. I am to bed.