India Five: Ranthambhore National Park

.I think I have been on my last ever early-morning game drive. For me they have often been over-rated and a disappointment. This one was no exception. We were woken before dawn and herded on to open game-drive vehicles parked at the station to go and see "the tigers". We were warned that it might be cold and "a bit bumpy.." Turned out to be freezing in the early morning with a driver who speeded through wind and the dark throwing us around like rag dolls. We hold on to each other and try to find protection under the issued blankets. As we arrive in to the actual park area we drive under trees, brushing past the low-hanging branches. Because it had rained during the night the trees were heavy with the water and each time we passed under a brach there was a shower over our heads. We become more and more bedraggled and colder. But the anticipation of seeing the tigers helps to sustain us, We see a few "spotted deer" who remind us of "Bambi" Like Impala with spots. By the side of a lake we see some interesting Kingfishers and two Herons. Then a little later, a series of Nyala-like buck and we stop at a small stone building where the guide kindly says we can have our "comforts.." An old man who is part of the park administration comes to join a small clutch of us chatting and shows us a photograph of a tiger crossing the path of one of the game-drive vehicles .."taken yesterday.." Yeah. Right. we continue to drive for a further despiriting hour and see very little else.
That's my gripe with these early-morning game adventures. I have an expectation and during the early part I will put up with any discomfort, waiting for the Big Sighting. But it most often eludes me. I realize again that my idea of game viewing is sitting on Johan and Susan's deck at Leopard Creek overlooking the river as the animals in their multitudes come down to drink. Me with a pair of binoculars in one hand and a cold beer in the other, Even the animals know that mid-morning is a more civilized time to be doing business

India Four: Jaipur Rajasthan

We are told that no state in India has more magnificent palaces and forts than Rajasthan. It is the most popular tourist area and our train is scheduled to visit seven of the most famous places. The first is Jaipur (City of Victory) and known as "The Pink City" Pink, they say in India pink is a sign of welcome, and when the son of Queen Victoria, Edward the Seventh visited Jaipur the city was so keen to welcome him that they started what has become a tradition, to paint all major buildings pink! The city was founded by Sawai Jai Singh who was a great scholar and statesman. and who was awarded the title "One-and-a-Quarter" a metaphor for one who is extraordinary.
After a visit to what has become known as the Pink Palace with its splendid blend of Rajput and Mughal architecture, we are taken to see a most extraordinary observatory. Built by Jai Singh who was a passionate astronomer around 1728, it is still in use an looks like a modern sculpture garden with its sixteen stone instruments forecasting how hot the summer months will be, the expected date of arrival duration and intensity of the monsoon and the possibility of floods or famine. Incredible! That it could have been done at that time and that it all still works today!

Then by elephant ride (this is after all a tourist trap..) for lunch to the Amber Fort. We have a spectacular view and lunch under great canopy on an upper deck.We talk a lot about how refined and civilized the ancient Indians were and how grand life was for the royal class.

India Three: "Feet on the Ground"

Physical space, and how one lives in it, seems to have a different meaning in India. In my Western mindset, when I want to do something, or when I want to rest I look for a chair at a table or desk, or I look for a bed. Or whatever else that will enable my body to position itself. In India we see life lived much closer to the ground. As our train passes through stations, and villages and fields we see many people, often small family groups happily sitting on their haunches around a common pot of food chatting and eating. Or simply watching the passing show, for hours, feet on the ground, knees bent, back straight. Even old men and women seem to be totally comfortable in what we would feel to be an awkward position. Poor people whose whole livelihood happens right next to a railway track. Or sitting in a small folded position, eyes averted, on a station platform. Any public thoroughfare has people like this. Sometimes lonley-looking children or those that are clearly homeless. There is a family with several children living on a rubish- dump-open-plot with just a makeshift tent and a small fire cooking goodness-knows-what We see a wizened old woman sitting on the "middle manetjie" of a busy road, just staring ahead of her. A cow being hand-fed by some children nearby. I realize that we are much more focussed on private space. The Indians, also like poor black people in South Africa, seem to have a much greater tolerance for standing very close to another.
We can easily feel "invaded".
Wherever we move I am aware that each person we come into contact with is out there, somehow, making a living. I find out later that there is no form of social security or "dole" in India, so you have to make your own living to survive. At each stop along the way we are confronted by very forceful persuasive sellers of every conceivable thing. Annoying at first and then we learn to manage it. We hear ourselves saying "don't make eye-contact!.."
Not many just beg. When they do it is a young mother, often with a baby in her arms. The old and young sellers and pushers are earning their income. They simply want your business.
As the train passes through the countryside we see women working in the fields, barefoot, wearing their signature pink saris.

India Two: The Palace on Wheels

By now we consider ourselves to be well-informed 'special train' travelers. We start and can't help comparing the 'Palace-on-Wheels' with the 'Orient Express' Bigger compartments within a very long train, but more garishly "Indian" with a slightly jaded opulence. Each coach has four compartments with two single beds next to each other and a small shower/loo arrangement. Hand painted ceilings and gold embossed woodwork A small communal sittingroom for the four compartments Liveried attendents who respond to the slightest request with "your wish is my command" demeanor. They bring endless trays of tea and serve a cooked breakfast in the small sitting area. Every evening the dinner is served in one of several dining cars, each named after some notable Maharani. The food is not classy French like the Orient Express but authentically Indian and the curries not too hot. The meal starts with soup,and then develops to a series of servings ranging from every kind of rice based Indian dish to more Western-style lamb, beef, chicken or fish. We enjoy everything and end up eating double helpings of the pudding because they serve delicious mango/coconut/ mixed fruit ice cream every time. A good selection of wines but very expensive.
The great thing about the train is that each day has a well-planned and balanced visitor program, taking us in specific small groups to visit the outstanding sights and experiences of Rajasthan. Totally relaxing because everything has been thought out and planned for you, so you don't have to make any decisions. Having done much traveling on our own over te years we appreciate how uncomplicated it is when you don't have to hire a cxar or work a foreign map to get somewhere. And you don't have to decide what you may want to see on any day. Not for everyone this. Some may feel 'herded' But we enjoy it very much. Everyday on whatever bus is taking you out there is a specially qualified guide who gives the background and conducts the tour. I check with a number of them to see how they got into the tourism/guiding business and am impressed to hear how many of them have Masters degrees in History or English Literature or some other top-end academic discipline. Mostly they speak well and give detailed explanations of the region and its culture. While the train moves through the various stops on the schedule we pass endless green fields of wheat and barley and rape.and fields with trees that remind us of different parts of South Africa. We can lie on our beds and stare out of the windows at the changing scenery. Very relaxing.

India One: Delhi

We arrive in foggy Delhi and after much pushing and shoving to work our way through Immigration we are driven to our hotel in the select diplomatic enclosure of New Delhi. Big beautiful mansions with immaculate gardens and great roundabouts. We are slightly taken aback at first, having heard all the scary stories of poverty in India and people begging or dying on the sidewalks. All we see here is Herbert Baker and Edwin Lutyens architecture. The grand monumental India Gate which, curiously, has the word "India" chiseled over its top. As if it had to say where it was standing.Vijay Chowk, Victory Square and the Presidents Palace. All remind us of the Union Buildings in Pretoria. Same architects and similar feel.
We stay at the Taj Palace and for the first night we shower, have dinner and collapse. Next morning we get going on the requisite City Tour.

First stop is The Red Fort, the first of many forts on our itinerary in India. The Red Fort dates from 1639 and remains a powerful symbol of Indian nationhood. By now we are seeing more of what we expected in India. We are seized upon by a multitude of souvernir sellers all claiming to give us a 'best price' and who don't easily take a brush-off. We three couples are then booked on to pedal-rickshas for a tour of the Delhi Market. Down a frenetically busy street where cars and tuk-tusk move at break-neck speed next to pedestrians and all kinds of people pulling heavy loads, strapped like animals Our driver is a reed-thin Indian who pedals us through the streets earning his living, literally, "by the sweat of his brow" The market covers many city blocks of small streets and alleys with hundreds of small business-fronts reminding us of the old Durban Indian market, but vastly bigger. Designated areas specialize in different categories of merchandise from gold and silver jewelry to saris and silks, and food from fruit and vegetables to meat and poultry. Followed by electronics and sports-gear. Crockery, pottery paper products and every handcraft. Thousands of people crowding everywhere. Each business has its name clearly identified, with its special deals shouted out. Inside the shops people sit as individuals or in small groups, with legs folded underneath them chatting animatedly. Customers are encouraged and 'sold to' constantly. All the traffic makes noise. Vehicles jam their way in everywhere hooting furiously. We can't believe what we are experiencing. After an hour the tour is concluded. We are speechless.
We are taken to the station to embark on the "Palace on Wheels" for our seven-day expedition through Rajasthan.

In-and-Out of Singapore

We are briefly in Singapore. But long enough to compare it to scruffy disorganized, often-squalid Bangkok where we have just come from. Even on the drive from the Changi Airport the renowned cleanliness and organization are evident. No billboards. Not a scrap of rubbish. Beautiful, well maintained trees everywhere and neatly clipped hedges. As we drive, no lines of scraggly shade-cloth parking next to buildings. All apartment blocks have neatly tucked into themselves their parking facilities. Taxis drive, respectfully, within the speed-limit. The roads are well-marked. The people working in the hotel and airport, from the immigration authorities to the baggage handlers are polite and friendly. Not tip-seeking or ingratiating. Not too much. Not too little. Just right. Is it in the DNA? It seems to be a kind of inborn grace. An advertisement on a wall in the airport says of Singapore Airlines "Business class: But it feels like First Class" And it does.
The question is "How do they do it?" How is it that this wonderfully positive impact is sustained everywhere and by everyone we meet? Is it the leadership? Yes, I know. Lee Kwan Yew was the one who had the vision and executed it rigorously when he was the head of the government.
But it has lived beyond him. So, is it the natural character of the people? Well, why then do other large East Asian cities who have similar ethnic diversity not have it?
Whatever it is, I wish someone would bottle it, and start to export it to Africa.

Bridge on the River Kwai and then ...the floods!

The E&O Express train stops on the Bridge over the River Kwai. We remember the movie, and what an impact it had in the late fifties. The organizers shepherd us off the train and take us on a cruise on the river. A retired British Army officer addresses the assembled audience and tells us the history of the building of the railroad from Thailand to Burma. His talk is followed when we are back at the bridge by a visit too the museum where we learn the full impact of this incredible story of Japan using prisoners of war to build the railroad in record time to hasten their war effort.It is 415 klms long and was built be 68 888 POWs and 200 000 Asian "recruits" between 1942 an d 1943. A total of 130 000 lives were lost due to unbelievable Japanese cruelty, very poor nutrition, sanitation and extremes of weather. We see pictures of emaciated Australian and Dutch POWs looking much like prisones out of Auschiwtz. Because of the recent experiences at Pearl Harbor we begin to get a better understanding of connections between the war in the Pacific and the Japanese expansionism in East Asia. On the train is quite a large party of Japanese. We wonder how they feel when the are confronted by all this painful history.
As we wake up the next morning the scenes around the train are of vast flooding on both sides of the track. Sometimes only rooftops are visible. We see small families huddled together and piles of debris floating in torrents. animals try to find shelter on bits of floating wood. We are amazed that the train can still travel on. We pass over several river mouths, with water churning in different directions. People on higher ground trying to make their way in waist deep water with meagre possessions held above their heads Children in windows waving and still smiling. .I see a pig on some floating timber. Eventually the Train Manager announces that the track is becoming dangerous and they have to summon experts to decide whether we can continue.After much shunting backwards and forwards and all kinds of effort to bolster the rack with big wooden beams the decision is made to turn back.They decide to take us back to Bangkok, and arrange to fly to Singapore. The spirit on the train is one of huge adventure.
The floods we learn, were due to less than 24 hours of heavy rain resulting in flash flooding
Happy New Year and best wishes to all for 2012.