2 Guys 1 Kaveri travel blog

Levi's & Bobo's diary about our 3 month long journey in India between September - December 2012. In the most part of our trip we had been following the footsteps of British adventurer Alastair Humphreys alongside the Kaveri river in Tamil Nadu, then we spent a week in Goa with our friends and finally concluded our travel with a 4-day stay in the Osho centre in Puna.

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I've learned just recently that the many hindu temples we saw in Tamil Nadu were built in the Dravidian architectural style.

Dravidian architecture was a style of architecture that emerged thousands of years ago in the Southern part of the Indian subcontinent or South India, built by the Dravidian peoples. It consists primarily of pyramid shaped temples called Kovils in Tamil(கோவில்) which are dependent on intricate carved stone in order to create a step design consisting of many statues of deities, warriors, kings, and dancers. Mentioned as one of three styles of temple building in the ancient book Vastu shastra, it originated mainly in the region of Tamilnadu. The majority of the existing buildings are located in the Southern Indian states of Tamilnadu, Karnataka, Kerala, and Andhra pradesh (wikipedia).

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naked toes, gibberish, moving in, let-go and TRUST

We stayed 4 days in the Osho International Meditation Resort in Pune between the 10th and 14th of December. I'm not going to write in detail about our stay nor the wide range of meditation programs available at the resort. I just gonna share some of my personal highlights.

One of Osho's jokes from an evening meditation meeting's video:

Jessica and Sam collide head-on in the hotel's lobby, Sam's elbow bumping against Jessica's breast. 

Sam: If your heart is not as hard as your breast then you'll forgive me.

Jessica: If all your body parts are as hard as your elbow then my room number is 32.

The Nadabrahma humming meditation (humming for 30 minutes, then soft movements and relaxation) reminded me of a good friend who seemed to me humming a lot. Sometimes his only response to what it seemed to me a particularly witty comment of mine was a "hm". Once I threatened him that he's got only one hum left without deadly consequences, by the second one I was gonna kill him. Back then I didn't know he was meditating...

I went for an 80's costume party one of the evenings. I felt super good and danced a lot as my toes suggest:

At some point (already after about two hours of intense moving) I approached a pretty lady and invited her for a dance. She stroked me with a wide smile from my upper chest down to my upper abdomens. I thought, "Boy, it's starting gooood...". Then she added, "You are sweating!" and along with an irrelevant reply of mine she left :-).

In another evening meditation meeting's video Osho told a different joke:

Sam is working on a construction site on the 49th floor. Suddenly he feels he needs to pee immediately. He tells his manager about his necessity since there's no toilet yet on the construction site he intends to go down to the ground floor. His manager says that the wage he pays Sam is too high for including such strolls in the middle of the working day. "But you know what", he says, "I'll lay down this plane over here. It stretches over the rooftop. I'll stand on the the inside end to secure you, you walk to the outside end and just pee down. By the time it reaches the ground it will have evaporated". Sam agrees and proceeds to the outside end of the plane. Then the phone suddenly rings and the manager, forgetting about Sam, steps off the plane and goes to pick it up. Sam falls down. The manager realizes what has happened and runs down to the ground floor to check what has remained of Sam. On the 10th floor he gets stopped by a friend: "Tell me what kind of pervert have you employed for the construction work", he says. "Why?", asks the manager. "Well, just a minute ago he was flying over here, holding on to his prick and shouting, >>Where did that asshole go?<<"

The video talk is followed by Gibberish*. 

While sitting, close your eyes and begin to say nonsense sounds – any sounds or words, so long as they make no sense. Just speak any language that you don't know! Allow yourself to express whatever needs to be expressed within you. Throw everything out. The mind thinks, always, in terms of words. Gibberish helps to break up this pattern of continual verbalization. Without suppressing your thoughts, you can throw them out. Let your body likewise be expressive.

Then Moving In*:

After some minutes of Gibberish, there is a drumbeat, at which point the Gibberish stops. Osho’s voice then guides the listener into a space of deep silence, stillness and relaxation, saying, for example, “Be silent, close your eyes...no movement of the body – feel frozen. Go inwards, deeper and deeper, just like an arrow. Penetrate all the layers and hit the center of your existence". [Free addition: Go inwards with absolute urgency as if this was the last moment of your life].

And Let-Go*:

Another drumbeat and, without arranging yourself, just allow yourself to fall down "like a bag of rice," [Free addition: don't make yourself comfortable when you fall] so you are lying, utterly still and relaxed, on your back as you are guided even more deeply into a silent stillness.

At this point I realize this is a hypnosis. In the inner dialogue of my mind I notice the following thougths popping up: "Osho is trying to get me into a hypnotic state." "I can be manipulated if I give up control". "He may implant whatever message in my mind". "I don't want that" - and as I'm listening to the talk I don't let myself go. Later on I come to the painful realization that I've witnessed inside me lack of trust - this time in Osho whose meditations and teachings I've been studying and practicing for the last 2 years.

* These are excerpts from Gibberish & Let-Go, occasionally extended with my free additions.

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I arrived to my snow-covered home city of Târgu-Mureș yesterday afternoon, after a painfully tiresome, 28.5 hours long bus-ride from Istanbul that made me swear: „Never again shall I set a foot on a bus, that has its destination further than 10 kilometers away, or the Gods may smite me down in their unforgiving fury”. Yes, it was this awful. I’ve done the math: the whole journey could have taken less time, if I had used horses to ride on, provided I changed the animal every 100 km or so.

Broadly speaking, the narrative of my travel-to-India experience could be broken into three symmetrical chapters, with an overwhelmingly fun middle part that represents my stay in Goa and Bombay, and the tedious, energy-consuming, logistic processes prior and after it. If I were to present it graphically, my enjoyment-curve would resemble a hat or some other object that looks like a hat. Maybe it’s just me, but I love traveling to places, without the explicit “travel” part. This time sickness and other random annoyances made my movements even less enjoyable than in the normal case.

Well, enough with the grievances! Let’s focus on the brighter moments I lived through in Goa. Luckily, there were many of those.  Arguably, and somewhat ironically, the absolutely best experience was the 46 km cab-drive from the Dabolim Airport to our hotel in Calangute. It was my first encounter with the so called “real” India I had imagined earlier: a rich and colorful tapestry of a semi-rural landscape dominated by the green of vegetation, the red sand on the side of roads and the age-old rust that resided on everything metallic.

It was a different world than the one I’m used to, yet despite its apparent “wildness”, somehow it felt inviting and safe. Certainly, the nice warm weather helped me welcome this change of scenery. In the first few days I felt some uneasiness due to the fact that I skipped the recommended vaccinations, but these uncomfortable feelings gradually wore off as I realized that Goa is not the rat-and-mosquito-infested crap-hole I not-so-secretly feared it to be. Surely, I’ve seen some big rats and got bitten by a few mosquitoes but at this moment there’s no harm to be observed.

It’s a boring old and often false travel report cliché to write about the hospitality of the local people since in many cases the friendliness is just a calculated tip-seeking tactic or even worse: a thinly veiled attempt at beggary, but in Goa I often felt that the positive attitude of some locals was genuine. The food universally tasted just great. In the gastronomical department I had high expectations and those were met. I also expected to spend many hours on the toilet and felt little disappointment after demons of diarrhea decided to generally avoid me.

It was a refreshing experience to go for a swim in December between the warm waves of the Arabian Sea, and to try the pool of cool water under the majestic Dudhsagar Waterfalls, where I could also taste a bit of “real”, monkey-filled jungle.

The safari into the national park around the waterfall was another high point of my visit. The only problem for me was the lack of encounter with snakes. The fact that I went to India and haven’t seen one live cobra leaves me with a sense of a certain degree of deficit. Well, at least there were many cows all around Goa: in the streets, on the beaches, and other places where you normally don’t expects any cows.

I like those animals, so I can sort of understand their high status in the eyes of Hindu people.

More to come…

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veldryn

We are happy to announce that we've got a new member on board: veldryn. He is one of the friends we met in Goa and a few hours ago has become a new contributor to our blog by registering as a user and writing his very first blog post: excerpts from his experience in India. He said he might write more and in more detailed way if there's need for that, so please give feedback on his post! 

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Romantics I like at Vivanta by Taj Blue Diamond. The diameter of bottom plate is about 1.5-2m. And the flower is...? C'm on, help me out in comments pls.

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That's been the longest stretch of lull on the blog so far. Writer's block? In a way yes, I don't want to blame it all on Goa or the subsequent journey to Pune. In the meantime I was working to elaborate on an older story but I haven't finished yet. So I'm sharing for now a few anecdotes on how some Indians tried to rip us off with tips, fines or exaggerated service fees. My Indian brothers, please don't interpret them as an overgeneralized negative image I'm painting of you all. I met many of you incredibly friendly, hospitable and helpful - some of that experience was and will be, shared on the blog, too. These anecdotes are basically innocent stories and at their best they may cheer up some of the readers and/or serve them as warnings on what to pay attention to if they happen to hang out in India.

# Mettur Dam.

At checkout from the lodge one of the receptionists points to his peer and tells me to give  the "boy" some tips. My head is fuzzy, I don't think straight and I hand him over 20 rupees or so. They are laughing. I'm confused and a bit ashamed of myself but I don't (want to) realize what was happening until Bobo opens my eyes. My appreciation guys, it was elegant!

# Mysore

At the point of stepping out of the hotel's courtyard. The porter stops us and very nicely inquires about where we are heading to and whether we need a rickshaw. I don't remember exactly what we reply but there is one thing for sure that we wanna get rid of him asap. He doesn't get intimidated and goes on with his perseverant smile, "Tips? Tips?". Bobo gets upset which is a rare phenomenon. With sudden anger and raised voice he asks me how come this guy is so shameless to ask tips from us unknowingly. "He's done nothing to us! I don't even know him! It's as if I'd turn to a by-passer and ask for tips!", he exclaims. Then he turns violently to a pedestrian, "Tips? Tips?" The poor guy replies in a surprised, afraid and defensive tone, "I don't know, I don't know..." Later on I try to explain Bobo that I've seen the porter before and maybe he was asking for tips for guarding our dreams... (actually this story has reminded me of an incident of me bursting out in sudden fury when a student sat down next to us and started off by asking - what it seemed to me the millionth times - what our names are. I'd been particularly grumpy and irritated before and I'd tried to concentrate all my resources on maintaining whatever mental peace I had had and at that moment my control simply exploded. I thought, "let me shock him. Let me provoke him with something interesting to me and let me watch his reaction", so I turned to him with the question, "Do you like sex?" Poor guy replied "I'm a student" :-) ).

# From Goa to Pune

It's been a 12 hour bus ride from Goa to Pune in an A/C bus with sleeping compartments. At the state frontier between Goa and Maharashtra an officer inspects our hand luggage. He spots out instantly the almost empty whisky bottle in my bag and tells me it's not allowed to transport this kind of stuff from Goa.  I shrug my shoulders, I didn't know. He adds that I have to throw the bottle away and pay a fine of 2000 rupees. I swallow the last mouthful of the 17 year-old single malt Scotch whisky and then head on to the bus door to get rid of the bottle. I'm already back to our cabin and so is the controller, inquiring something about the 2000 rupees fine in a modest, discrete, almost secrete tone. I sense he's trying to squeeze out money from me on unreasonable grounds and I reply that I don't pay anything, there was almost no alcool in there and I threw the bottle away anyway. With a wide, apologizing smile he goes on his way.

# Pune

We had a lot of experience with rickshaw drivers trying to suck out money from us but this one in Pune outshines all that. We are roaming on the road close to the Osho International Meditation Center. A rickshaw driver takes notice of us and asks if we want accommodation. Yes, we want. He knows a superb place, cheap and fantastic, who would have thought? Okay, get on, he rides us there and eventually we come to agreement with the residence manager, 6 nights for 9000 rupees, it's pretty good business for them I'd say. I ask the rickshaw driver in return for the good business to bring us back to the lodge we stayed before to fetch our backpacks and on the way back we ask him to stop at an ATM. On arriving at the residence I ask him to take me further to a TATA Docomo shop to recharge the balance for the mobile internet service we are using. On the way there I notice he's running the taximeter. I tell him in an objurgatory tone that we've brought him already a good business and that he shouldn't charge for the ride as well. He replies with an apologizing smile that he is broken. As we arrive at the residency I take a fleeting glimpse at the taximeter, it shows 14x rupees. The driver accompanies me to the management office and I sit down for paperwork. At some point he says he'd leave as soon as we've paid him. I ask him surprisedly how much he wants. He says 800 rupees. I'm close to explode (I thought I'd give him 50 rupees out of generosity provided he would not ask for money explicitly). I take 150 rupees out of my pocket and tell him that's all what I gonna give him. Not a rupee more. He descends to 500, repeats that he's broken, that I'm not correct. I also repeat that I won't give him a rupee more even if he'd kill or put me to jail. He says I shouldn't talk like that, I'm his guest after all. He drops another 200 rupees, he's asking now "only" for 300. At this point I leave for my room full of indignation in order to write this post one and half days later.

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That was the first part of our journey. So what's next for blogging? Well, we still haven't made time for sketching down some of the best stories along the road. And our journey continues with new parts and impressions. Although we named the blog 2 Guys 1 Kaveri, we also want to share other stories of 2 Guys in India. For instance we are in Goa now, reunited with 6 friends from home who came here for a short holiday.

The Kaveri trip hasn't finished in the sense that our minds haven't stopped reflecting on it neither are likely to do so in the near future. There are dozens of important lessons I learned along the road and most of them are what I *needed* instead of what I *wanted* ;-). I plan to present those insights in a later post. 

I wish you all a happy Sunday afternoon from Goa!

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Retrospection on 2 guys 1 Kaveri: stations on the road

"We started our walking trip along the Kaveri on the 2nd of October at the mouth of the Kollidam river :-)"

Actually you can see all the places we overnighted at (and Talakaveri, the source of Kaveri) in our journey on my 2 Guys 1 Kaveri map. Here are the milestones (you can trace them on the map above by following the hyperlinks, except for the SRIVIDYASRAM English Medium School):

* 2nd Oct.: starting off at the mouth of Kollidam. Arriving at Chidambaram. "Do you know Chidambaram?"

* 10th Oct.: arriving at Kapisthalam. Staying 2 nights at an Indian family (Suresh & co.) whose overwhelming hospitality wore us down, especially me. 

* 12th Oct.: visiting SRIVIDYASRAM English Medium School (2 attending kids from the Indian family we stayed over before).

* 12th to 13th Oct.: overnighting on the terrace of a Tamil teacher (the first Balasubramaniam we met) with 3-4 boys from the nearby petrol station at Thiruvaiyaru.

* 13th Oct.: too many milestones for me in the past few days, I feel my universe is winding down. We take a rest at Thanjavur.

* 14th to 15th Oct.: overnighting at SASTRA university campus in a student room and gaining some new impressions on India based on the interactions with the students.

* 15th Oct.: arriving at Trichi. For the next 3 days we are rejuvenating ourselves, I'm trying to get relief on my back pain by Ayurvedic treatment, the first of the kind in my life.

* 19th Oct.: on the way to Karrur I realize it's not worth for me continuing the walk. We agree on with Bobo and we decide to stay a few days here before we hop on on public transport.

* 23th Oct.: from now on we go by bus. Our first bus ride is similar to roller-coasting in a Walt-Disney park.

* 25th Oct.: at Mettur Dam I notice I've developed a skin rash. I purchase a cream for secondary skin infections and surrounded by spectators, almost freaking out of nervousness I'm washing my upper body in the back courtyard of our lodge before applying the cream.

* 26th Oct.: arriving at Hogenakkal Falls. Two days waterfalls, walks, sunsets, meditations, massages, coracle boat ride. Monkey trying to rob bananas from a transparent plastic bag in Bobo's hand.

* 28th Oct.: a few days in Bangalore. Here we witness the miraculous appearance of Lord Krishna as a whirlpool of white light in front of the sitting Bobo in the Hare Krishna ISKCON temple. Safari, butterfly park & zoo in Bannerghatta National Park. Visit to Electronic City. Lalbagh Botanical Gardens.

* 1st Nov.: arriving to Mysore. Beautiful, rich city but I'm much too irritated to substantially enjoy it. Travelling and lack of sleep wore me off. I only take some crumbs with me from the Mysore Palace. My joy grows higher up at the Chamundi Hills and I'm quite touched by the atmosphere of Datta Peetham ashram.

* 3rd Nov.: a week around Kushalnagar. Visiting the Tibetan settlements in Bylakuppe, exploring the Buddhist monasteries - Namdroling, where we are guided by a Tibetan Buddhist monk, friend-of-a-friend - and Sera Mey. Much of my fatigue resurfaces and I ask myself about my goal with this India trip. I even consider going home. By the end of the week, however, I have  my batteries recharged and most of my issues at hand resolved.

* 10th Nov.: we continue towards Madikeri hilltop. Cardamon, pepper & coffee plantations. Best coffee experience in India so far. Rum, whisky & chikoo wine;-).

* 12th Nov.: a detour to Chingaara Estate Guest House in the Western Ghats mountains. Jaw-dropping beauty. A road full of hairpins and it's like we're crossing through the jungle. Bobo prefers it to the safari in the Bannerghatta National Park. We climb up to Tadiandamolu Peak.

* 14th Nov.: on foot again! Only 40+ km to Talakaveri, the source of the Kaveri river. A beautiful day of walking, nostalgies about the old walking times. A bit of back pain. We eat traditional Indian food and overnight at Bhagamandala in a cheap, non-A/C lodge.

* 15th Nov.: After a short visit to Sri Bhagandeshwara Temple we head on to Talakaveri. We spend a few hours here, cross the holy pond, get blessed with holy water from the  source of Kaveri by hindu priests and conclude the first part of our India journey. 

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Photographs / paintings of beautiful Indian women from Bangalore palace last part

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Visit Original Link

A short audio recording of a women's choir at the Sri Bhagandeshwara Temple in Bhagamandala, Karnataka, our next-to-the-last station along the Kaveri river.

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A friend of mine was so kind to send us this illustration of the wildlife in / around the Kaveri river in Karnataka state forest ages ago, at the beginning of our trip. Since then it's been with us but (un)fortunately we haven't seen many of the living beings shown here - we resigned from a hiking trip in the mountain forests around Mettur Dam said to be inhabited by cheetahs which actually became leitmotifs for the upcoming few days. I had the idea of recording live how a cheetah would eat Bobo and then post it to the blog which would likely have increased the views dramatically. But at the end you (and us) are left with this diagram.

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In this video made by Bobo I'm demonstrating my equipment at Talakaveri on the 15th of November when we finally arrived to the source of the Kaveri river, the destination of what we initially thought would be a walking trip. I intended the presentation of my gear to be comprehensible but I forgot two things which were placed in the back pocket of my pack, a Patagonia Torrentshell jacket and a Platypus Hoser 3.0L collapsible reservoir (which actually can be seen in the video :-) ).

In addition to that here you have the list of the top 10 of my expedition kit. Hope it will come handy to those folks who embark on a similar journey.

ASICS GT-2170 running shoes. The best or second-best running shoes I ever had

Osprey Atmos 35 Pack - it is a lightweight pack designed for ultralight backpacking. Comfortable and practical but slightly small (even with the multiple adjustment possibilities) for a 1.90m guy. Always overstuffed, it could hardly fit in the overhead compartments of Indian trains and buses

Craghoppers Nosilife Mens Long Sleeved Insect Repellent Shirt

Craghoppers Nosilife Mens Nosilife Cargo Trousers

Outdoor Research Sombriolet Sun Hat

Julbo Contest Black Performance Sunglasses - the best sunglasses I ever had

Sea to Summit Premium Silk Sleeping Bag Liner - just a few dozen grams, good quality silk liner, it has a very pleasant soft touch on the skin

Samsung Galaxy SII phone - very good for multi-purpose use, except for battery time which SUCKS

Therm-a-Rest ProLite Sleeping Pad - very comfy

Sea to Summit Mosquito Net AMOSHP Headnet with Permethrin Treatment

I hope I'll write a separate post to evaluate the first stage of our India trip and to present some of the insights I gained in the meantime. 

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Indian craftsmen at work: sculptor at Chamundi Hills, Mysore.

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IF YOU WANT TO GIVE ME FLOWERS, MAKE SURE THEY'RE WOVEN IN GOLD...

Photographs / paintings of beautiful Indian women from Bangalore palace part III reminds me of a Helmut Newton photo.

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The miraculous appearance of Lord Krishna as a whirlpool of white light in front of the sitting Bobo in the Hare Krishna ISKCON temple in Bangalore.

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Indian craftsmen at work: masseurs at Hogenakkal Falls

I've spent probably the most pleasant time at Hogenakkal Falls so far in India. The scenic waterfalls, a boat ride with an Indian coracle, meditation at sunset, plenty of rest and good food all added to my well-being. And the two extraordinary massage sessions with Murthy.

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As we are heading towards the falls I notice an orgy, the kind I've never seen before. A large group of Indian masseurs working vigorously on the dark bodies of their victims. Strange, powerful grips, snatches, punches, twists. Oil is flowing abundantly all over the unusually postured victims.

When I sniff massage I usually transform into a carnivore. Here I can hardly keep my sudden hunger at bay, but we stick to our plan of checking out the waterfalls before everything else. I inquire the prices though: 100 Indian rupees for a head- and 200 for a full body massage.

It's almost dark when we get back but the craftsmen are still at work. I'm looking critically at the working masseurs to determine who is the best to my taste. After another inquiry I realize - to my greatest disappointment - that the prices have gone up by 300 INR. A full body massage costs now 500 INR, including bath. Does it have to do with my skin color and/or attire? My doubts still don't vanish entirely when an Indian client says to me they pay 500 too. But what should I do? It's late and each and every masseur sticks obstinately to the price. I think that I'm witnessing a cartel but I give in.

Murthy is of small stature and I'm wondering whether I had better chosen a masseur of a larger built as the fun begins. I assume he'll crunch my neck - I've seen the other masseurs doing it - and I'm afraid. It's something I never experienced before despite the many massages I received from plenty of different masseurs. My brain turns obstinately back to the idea of me not being able to let my neck free when he'll crunch it and - crack! -  it will break it. What shall I do? Trying to focus on the massage, in the background of my thoughts I'm willing to accept the possibility that my neck might be broken (as little as 500 INR is a great price for that isn't it?).

Head massage. Foot massage. Shoulders maybe. I don't remember the order anymore. Then the dreaded neck comes. "Los" - he says, and then... crack. If it was silent around I might be hearing the echoes of the crunches coming back from the surrounding mountains.

But I'm writing this post after some good 10 days. And not from a wheelchair...  

As far as I remember Murthy finishes with my legs (by that time I thought Murthy is finishing off my legs). He gets a good grip on my thighs, clenches his fingers with - what seems to me - all his power and moves his hand down to my foot. At first it just doesn't come to me to believe this can be so painful. When he repeats it the 4th time I'm already hissing from pain despite my resolve to absorbe it. Most of my remaining doubts about the physical strength of Murthy come to a vanishing point: with his small but amazingly strong hands he could cause extraordinary pain.

The next day I experience such a pain in my legs which I think competes with the most acute muscle fever I ever had after the long walks. At the same time I feel rejuvenated and I'm already thinking of going for it again. But not the very next day, I want to give my body time to rest. Boby, however, also intrigued by my report, is ready to go ahead. Satisfied with the massage and with his legs ruined too he offers to record parts of my next round. The following video snippets are selections from the recordings he made.

Head massage:

Body massage:

Leg massage:

I had memorable and pleasant experience in the course of these massage sessions and I admire the skills of these craftsmen.

So, as Bobo commented on facebook, "if you think you're tough then get one. The face expression of the boy describes it perfectly."

[2guys1kaveri]

Introducing "Indian craftsmen at work"

We’ve been already confronted on our India trip by a number of facts, events, services, processes, inefficient solutions which made us think: it sucks. Examples include mobile network operators, internet service providers, their customer care - I’ve pointed out to Bobo that the word “care” is misleading in the expression -, communication in English, power cuts, trash management, etc. On a related note at (lack of) trash management: I still haven’t fully overcome my amazement at people removing their shoes before stepping on a, say, banana plantation as a sign of respect for the land that feeds them and the very same people throwing away whatever waste no matter where they are as if it didn’t dawn on them that by doing so they disrespect the land more than if they trampled on it with their shoes on - at least according to my European values. Nevertheless I also observed different types of craftsmen at work who truly amazed me by their skills. I dedicate the series “Indian craftsmen at work” as a tribute to their mastery.