Time for a rant.

One of the major annoyances that I’ve had to get used to here is the extremely aggressive touting, haggling, scams, and begging that foreigners have to put up with when visiting India. This occurred in every other country I’ve visited, but nowhere near the level I’ve witnessed here.

Having to say “No, thank you”, “I don’t need a rickshaw”, “I don’t need a guide”, “I have a hotel”, “I’m not looking to buy souvenirs” dozens of times a day can be draining at best. Even more annoying is that with the more aggressive touts, you actually have to convince them you don’t need what they are offering before they leave you alone. It can really get on one’s nerves, and I’m only starting to get used to it now.

In China, simply ignoring beckons of “Hello! Rolex!” or showing disinterest is usually enough, but not here. At the Gateway to India in Mumbai, for example, one self-proclaimed government guide actually scolded us for ignoring his sales pitch, saying it was extremely rude not to stop and listen. After smiling and telling him we were not interested, he then proceeded to lecture us on proper etiquette in turning down offers such as his. Just as I started feeling a bit guilty he went straight into his sales pitch.

“Foreigner pricing” is another major issue. Besides shops overcharging tourists, getting taxis/rickshaws to use their meters is often impossible. Instead you get quoted a ridiculously high foreigner rate and have to haggle your way down to something remotely fair. At the end of the trip, some drivers still come up with an excuse to demand more than the agreed upon price. Landmarks, museums, temples, etc. clearly post admission fees of ten times or more for foreigners. I try to imagine what would happen in the West if taxi drivers refused to use their meters for foreign tourists, or if national landmarks had a blatantly discriminatory pricing scheme.

Then there is the begging. I think that beggars that approach and follow foreigners (often children that are coaxed by nearby adults) piss me off the most. I don’t mean to sound like a dick; if I have money and see people in need, I will often give. But never when I’m approached directly. It can also be hard to determine actual need versus those in character. A few times we’ve had conversations with beggar children, and it turns out they had homes, families, went to school, are were not hungry. Like many of the “suburb homeless teens” in Toronto who are homeless because they want a later curfew (and either make up with their families in the winter or go to Vancouver where the weather is nicer), begging is just an easy way to get some extra money. It annoys me when I see foreigners give kids money with the mentality that “10 rupees is worth it to have them leave me alone”. It just ensures that they’ll come bother me next. There is nothing more annoying than watching a beautiful sunset by the river only to be approached by a tout or beggar who will not leave you alone.

It often feels like everything here is a battle to prevent getting completely ripped off.

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After feeling a bit underwhelmed after Goa’s overhyped beaches, Varkala in Kerala was a pleasant surprise.

The crescent shaped beach is overlooked by a cliff that surrounds it. The guest houses and restaurants are all situated on the cliff, leaving the beach free from the hustle. Unlike Goa, there are almost no touts or hassles on the beach, there are far fewer tourists making it much more relaxing.

Unfortunately, a bunch of new resorts are being built up and a new crowd of older tourists and tour groups are showing up, so I don’t think it’ll be much longer before things change.

Kerala is home to many kilometres of backwaters around Allepey and Kollam, and is known as a sort of “Venice of India”. In and around Allepey, backwater tours of the canals are big business and many agencies provide ‘house boat’ tours. At around 3000+ rupees for a day trip, it’s (relatively) expensive, but definitely the best way to tour the area and get a glimpse of village life along the sides of the river.

The boat came equipped with a double room with attached bathroom, upper lounge deck, and included a captain and cook for the day. Meals and snacks are part of the package, but beer and anything else you want you have to stock yourself.

Overall I really enjoyed the experience, although I do think it was a bit pricey. However, you can’t get much more relaxing than sipping a cold Kingfisher while slowing drifting along tropical backwaters and watching the sunset, so it was all worth it.

It wasn’t all good though; as luck would have it my trusty old Canon Powershot SD200 (with its whopping 3 megapixels ) decided to die on me just after the boat left.

One of the first things I did in Kerala was get an old style shave with a straight razor at an old barber shop. This was a first for me, and I gotta say, I’m a convert. There’s nothing like a smooth shave with a straight razor, followed up with all the creams and after shave lotions applied at the end. Makes you feel like a real man!

That said, there is a huge element of trust involved in letting a stranger stroke a sharpened blade across your face and so close to the jugular. I know it’s ridiculous, but I couldn’t help but think that I was in a pretty compromising position and with one flick of the wrist, this guy could end me. Then I figured that would probably be pretty bad for business and is not likely to occur often.

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Continuing south, next up was the state of Kerala. I was very excited to visit Kerala, not only because it has the world’s first and only democratically elected communist government, but also for its apparent laid-back style and quieter beaches.

First stop was Ernakulam/Fort Cochin, where we spent a few days. There are already less touts and aggressive hawking here, and the people seem friendlier. It’s also interesting to see hammer and sickle flags and pictures of Marx, Stalin, and Che Guevera everywhere. That said, other than the more laid back attitude and symbols I don’t see much difference here, at least on the surface. To a few touts we asked, “Are you communist?” to which one replied, “No, no. My business is not communist, my business is tourist! Great sight-seeing, 50 rupees one hour. See all the special place. OK?“

The long bus ride to reach Ooty was an adventure in itself, as we passed through a national park and tiger observatory (seeing elephants and monkeys on the way), and then up some very steep and narrow winding roads up the mountain, circling tea plantations and what smelled like pine trees.

Similar to Moganshan, Ooty was established as a retreat from the heat for the movers and shakers during the British Raj (apparently earning itself the nickname “Snooty Ooty”). The mountain village is about 3000m above sea level, so it’s significantly cooler than anywhere else I’ve been so far; it’s definitely sweater weather, especially at night.

On Ooty’s main drag, we noticed a SHANGHAI SPORTS COMPANY and restaurant. Very curious to see what this was about, we went to the shop. The owner and his sister were born and raised in Ooty, and they are third generation Chinese in India. They don’t speak Chinese, but they do speak English, Hakka, Hindi, and Tamil. It was quite surreal to hear Chinese people speak English with Indian accents and do the yes/no/maybe head bobble. It turns out their parents left China and moved to Kolkata (Calcutta) 50 years ago. Others have since moved on, but they stuck around. The sister insisted that Ellen help her brother find a wife in China that he can bring back to Ooty since there are no Chinese girls there.

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From Bangalore, we took a bus to Mysore. For a not-so-big city (pop. < 1 million), it's incredibly crowded and noisy. This gets worse during the daily power cuts when all shop owners turn on their Honda gas powered generators that sit outside their shops. Walking around becomes even more of a challenge (especially at night) with the roar of a few thousand generators all blowing exhaust in your face while you dodge buses, rickshaws, cows and pedestrians.

There seemed to be some interesting scam going on in this city that I never seemed to figure out. About 3 or 4 times, I'd be approached by young men that would all have the exact same conversation with me:

“Where are you from? Oh Canada? English or French part? There is an oil and incense market just down the street. One day only. Best in India! Me, I’m from Goa. I work at a cafe here. Just like Amsterdam. Weed, hash, it’s legal here in Mysore!”

Followed by an offer to be taken to the market or cafe. The first time I thought it was just some Goan wanting to say hello to foreigners. After the fourth time having the exact same conversation, I was really curious to find out what the scam was, but never did.

The one sight we checked out was the Mysore Palace, pictured above. Outside the palace, some creative ‘guide’ tried to tell us the palace was closed until a few hours later. As luck would have it though, he would be so kind as to drive us around the city sightseeing until it was open, and at a great price to boot! After declining his generous offer, we went to the (surprise, surprise – open) palace.

Speaking of which, the haggling here… well that will require another post.

After spending a few days taking it easy in Hampi it was back to Hospet, and then an overnight sleeper bus to Bangalore. The trip was only something like 300 km, but took 10 hours because the roads are in such poor condition. Sleeping wasn’t much of an option; the bus bounced around so much that I had to hold the hand rail on the top bunk for dear life.

Upon arrival in Bangalore, we decided to splurge a little so we shelled out for one night in a swank serviced apartment (which in reality looked like any generic Shanghai hi-rise flat) that had hot water and wifi(!). After grabbing a few hours sleep, we walked to MG Road (every major city in India has an MG or Mahatma Gandhi Road) and explored the downtown area.

Bangalore is India’s IT capital and is much more prosperous and modern than any of the other places we’ve visited so far, and also much more expensive. Walking through the central area felt like being in a western city.

For dinner, we checked out a Japanese owned and managed restaurant, but it was overpriced and the food wasn’t that great. It did however have ice cold Asahi beer that made up for it. The further we travel in India, the harder it seems to find alcohol; restaurants that serve meat are also becoming few and far between. In Hampi, alcohol and meat were banned (although available to foreigners in some establishments, if consumed discreetly), so it was nice to have a cold one after a week of drought.

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From Hospet, we took an overpriced rickshaw (R100) to visit the ruins of Hampi. Hampi is located around a unique, bouldery mountain range, and has many ancient ruins surrounding a bazaar. The Hampi bazaar area is a flood of guest houses, shops and restaurants catering to the backpacker crowd, but the ruins area is very cool and there are very few people walking around. Surprisingly, it seems most tourists opt to visit the crowded temples (entrance fee of R10 for Indians and R200 for foreigners) and ignore the vast area of ruins you can freely and leisurely explore at your own pace.

From Goa, it was back to Panaji and then a bus ride to Madgaon. Stayed a night there and then it was an early morning train ride to Hospet.

I really like the trains in India, especially the non-AC class that have open windows. Unfortunately, one of the shutters kept slamming down, but it was nothing that some dental floss tied between two bars to hold it up couldn’t fix.

On that note, dental floss is something no one should be without! In addition to helping prevent tooth decay, I’ve used it several times as a laundry line, to tie things to a backpack, or for anything that requires a fairly strong rope.