Departure from India: Saying goodbye to Kolkata, flying via Kerala, and finding myself naked in a room with 2 local middle aged women for a third time

Many of you will know, Matt and Pat (my two brothers) make up two of the three most important men in my life; the third is a ginger haired man who is to blame for the nose and the unfortunate colour of my unborn children's hair. When I said my farewells to them back in November, over 160days ago, I never anticipated another goodbye like it. However saying goodbye to my family of brothers and friends I've found in Kolkata proved equally as tough. Getting on the plane to leave Kolkata genuinely felt like I was tearing a piece of me apart. But I know for sure I'll be back. Kolkata feels like my second home and Future Hope has firmly secured itself a big piece of my heart.

My Ballygunge brothers

Kerala provided some slight relief from the heat and humidity of Kolkata. With my new fresh faced saga-club travel companions (mum and Ian) we touched down in Trivendruim, beginning our 12 day trip.

Mum and Ian in their first ever tuk tuk

Watching India through the fresh eyes of Mum and Ian was quite a giggle. While Ian squirmed each time our tuk tuk came within inches of other vehicles, mum took a bit of time to adjust to the Indian males' attitudes; even educated states like Kerala appear to place women as second class citizens. Meal times were a whole new adventure. Ian struggles with even peppery food, so when we ordered a chilli-infused double fry mutton dish, just sniffing the meat got him perspiring!

Ian's stomach didn't always agree with the local cuisine.

We started with 2 days relaxing by an empty pool before heading to the tip of India at Kanyamari. The 24 hours spent there were quite poignant, the end of India and the end of my trip.

Colourful fruits of Kerala. My favourite - red bananas!

Kerala is famous for its back waters and its tea plantations, both things we wanted to taste. From Kollam we took an overnight stay in a traditional Keralan house boat. Being British you would have  thought we'd check the weather. We'd assumed the Indian sun would be out blasting us like it had on all previous days, however the torrential down pour and vicious thunder storms took us by surprise. The ducks loved it though. Late in the afternoon we hoped into small canoe, accessing the smaller canals. The vessel was similar to a punt though the guide was less than impressed with my attempt of driving. The highlight had to be seeing a water snake, my first wild snake in India.

Tamil Nadu border in amongst the tea plantations. Mum and Ian took the constant fashion theme of Brits on African Safari. 

Munnar, up in the hills provided a much needed break from the heat. More beautiful than Darjeeling, the endless tea plantations and lush green forests created a patch work like quilt across the Tamil Nadu border. The sunset over the mountains was one of my more colourful.

Sunset over the Munnar Mountains

Our final stop was Marari Beach, a tiny undiscovered fishing village with a deserted white sandy beach. In other words, paradise. The final 4 of my 160 days saw me throw my conservative clothing and attitude into my bag and finally sit on a towel in an appropriately small amount of clothing, my last attempt to come home looking like an Indian. 

Deserted Marari Beach at sunset

Wanting to finish off my experience authentically, mum and I went for a traditional aruveydic massage with an 80 year old male doctor. For such a conservative country, particularly when it comes to women's clothing and covering up, I seem to have all too often found myself completely naked in a room with two local women. Having signed some papers informing me I was to have a "GBM" - something I later found to imply Gross Bodily Molestation - I found myself in what looked like an old apothecary crossed with a medieval operating room. I was simply instructed "All off." Once I'd stripped under the watchful gaze of the women, I was given a cave man-esque handkerchief to cover what little was left of my dignity. Then the proceedings began.
First a head massage requiring my hair to be oiled and my head to be slapped like a fish. All this while sat bare on a hard back chair. After 5 minutes of this intriguing start, I was instructed to climb onto the operating table, still oily from the previous client. Luckily for me this was just my mother. The redundant handkerchief was again removed while I took up various lying positions: face down, sleep position on your side, and - most revealing - face up. The latter I felt I was being prepared for mummification. In all of the positions I had oily rubbed into every crevice by two pairs of hands, some areas normally regarded as intimate and private. This was not for the prudish! Face up, I found myself undergoing a thorough breast cancer check. Very odd. In the background the local hare Krishna group carried out their rehearsal and the coconut trees rustled. It was all very relaxing, well except for the quadruple-handed intimate rubbing part. 

Medieval oiled up massage bed

I thought oiling up would have been sufficient, however my two ladies, Bindu and Raju, took me to the shower room and told me to sit. I was then lathered up, hair washed, body rinsed and patted dry. I felt like an incapacitated mental health patient. Finally I was allowed to redress, still under the watchful eye of the masseuses. What did they think of my little white patches?!

So what have I learnt in my 5months of being bamboozled by India?

Smile.

Vivek (left) and Ranjit (right), two of my many new brothers

Patience, things in India (and the rest of the world) take time.

Appreciating being born into a society where women are treated like equals and given a choice!

There are a few more lessons but ask me in person if you're really interested, I'm not about to go all free soul and "changed person" over the internet.

Manchester Aiport Arrivals with Matt. The welcome home sign reads, "Kat Suddaby How was Prison?"

  I'll sign off with a quote from the father of India, Mahatma Ghandi, known as the India of his dreams. Although India is on the way to realising Ghandi's dream, there is still a little way to go:

I shall work for an India, in which the poorest 

shall feel that it is their country in whose making 

they have an effective voice; 

an India in which there shall be 

no high class and low class of people; 

an India in which all communities shall

 live in perfect harmony. 

There can be no room in such an India 

for the curse of untouchability or the curse 

of the intoxicating drinks and drugs. 

Women will enjoy the same rights as men. 

We shall be at peace with all 

the rest of the world. 

This is the India of my dreams

ABC: Annapurna Base Camp, Babu the extreme explorer, and Congestion in Kathmandu

A few hundred kilometres north of Kolkata lies Kathmandu and the Himilayan playground. Being so close to such incredible scenery and having had a taste during Christmas, Georgie, Willem and I booked ourselves a two week slot to venture into the Nepalese mountains.

On arrival into Kathmandu international airport, which itself looked like a small 1960s red brick garage block, we were informed over 250 peaks in Nepal are over 6000m high! Unfortunately final approach into Kathmandu was cloudy so the spectacular scenery stayed hidden under cloud.

Kathmandu, apparently the second most polluted city in the world, greeted us with a huge thunder storm and rain, two things I haven't seen for a good few months. The streets around the tourist area of Thamel are jammed together creating a real maze of almost entirely fake northface clothing, foreign exchange and travel and tour company stores.

With time against us we headed to Pokhara the following morning, 7 hours away by bus. Running round like headless chickens, we got ourselves cereal bar supplies and the two mandatory permits each costing NRS 2000 (£12.50). No one could explain why we had to purchase both or what the difference was, but my bargaining did get me a 1% discount and Georgie a marriage proposal. We headed up into the mountains with "Raju Daju" the taxi driver blaring the ever popular Hoeny Singh (the Indian Jay-Z) and found ourselves playing card games late into the night with two young brothers in the starting village of Phedi.

Setting out from Phedi

After a relatively small breakfast (our appetites increased exponentially from here on in) we started our first ascent: 500m straight up on unforgiving stairs. The rest of day 1 followed in a similar fashion interspersed with small children shouting "chocolate"  at us and the odd piece of spectacular scenery. We finished the day by rolling into a small village called Landruk where again my bargaining got us a room for free with views over looking Annapurna. Total ascent: 1030m. Total Descent: 370m.

The start of the trail and our first of many steep climbs.

Day 2 followed a the same up-down path with a highlight being a stop at the hot springs of Jihnu Danda after lunch. Unlike most others bathing in the pools, we hadn't really earned our muscle soak so continued on after lunch taking in a gruelling 300m ascent in 45mins.  Total ascent: 870m. Total Descent: 450m.

Day 3 saw  a welcome change in scenery. The unforgiving infinite steps gave way to forest paths, still on an incline. (We were about to ascend 2000m in 2 days!) We took in beautiful Himalayan villages including Bamboo and Dovan, pushing through the miserable torrential rain to a village called Himilaya. In hindsight it was possibly one of our worst decisions as Himilaya was one of the uglier stops of the day, relatively, and during the night a local creature decided to pay a visit to our room. We think a rat is the one to blame for the numerous nibble holes in our snack packages. The same rat is likely to be the thing that caused Georgie to wake up screaming, waking everyone else in the lodge through the paper-thin walls. And the third strike against the rat would be the excrement it left in my wash bag which I only discovered 2 days later thanks to the foul stench and strange brown/white smears all over my soaps, toothbrush and moisturiser!  Total ascent: 1040m. Total Descent: 510m.

A change in terrain.

Day 4 was the big push towards the top, taking a relatively short half day to MBC, Machhapuchhare Base Camp. We passed into snow fields within an hour of setting off, slowing the pace and making for some inpromptu skiing. We trekked over dodgy streams and avalanches, every so often hearing the worrying rumble of falling snow. We made it by lunch and set in for a relaxing afternoon anticipating a long day in the morning.  Total ascent: 860m. Total Descent: 0m.

Snowy conditions

Day 5 was one of my best. We got up at 4:30am to summit to ABC, Annapurna Base Camp, climbing over snow through the darkness, illuminated only by the moon and the odd head torch. The views were incredibly clear but the clouds soon set in as we demolished a double breakfast at the top. Back down the mountain valley we headed, trying to over take and avoid the long snaking chains of Asian tourists, all on package tours which required them to just carry small day packs and wear the appropriately branded "Malaysaion Invasion" t-shirts. Skiing back down with a few hairy moments, including crossing two fresh huge avalanche dumps, we some how made it back down to little Bamboo with our newly formed international trekking group, encompassing Dutch, French, Canadian, German and of course English. Total ascent: 430m. Total Descent: 1390m.

We made it! 6am in the morning.

Day 6 was a long hard push to the end. As we descended  the temperature climbed and saw my pasty legs finally get some mountain air! Three steep ascents each followed a long, hard descents. During the daily afternoon rain, old church songs reared their forgotten heads and I managed to stay in fairly high spirits. Having set off at 9am, Ghandruk couldn't have come quick enough as we rolled in at 6pm  Total ascent: 945m. Total Descent: 1070m.

A slice of the Annapurna range

Day 7 saw a huge final descent of 1000m almost all in one stint. Having had a long trek the day before, my knees were begging for the end. That, a hot shower, and some good food. Pokhara provided both, the latter in the form of some unidentified steak. The craziest evening followed where we met a man named Babu. Initially we presumed he was like all other Nepalese in Pokhara, out to make a small dollar out of the mountains
 We quickly realised he wasn't just any Nepalese man. He's summited Everest, breaking a world record for the highest paragliding flight at 8865m. He then proceeded to kayak from there to the Bay of Bengal, winning a National Geographic prize and a Red Bull Award in the process. We chatted for a few hours over steak fascinated by his stories. And to finish it off he then gave us a free t-shirt from his newly formed company. What a guy!

Babu and the steak house

The following days in Pokhara were much more relaxed, swimming  and enjoying the lake and spending time with our newly formed international group of Germans, Dutch, French and English. We rode the world's longest zip wire, reaching 140 kmph, probably less exciting than it sounds. The view was insane though.

We soon found ourselves heading back into then polluted and congested  Kathmandu, where the crammed lanes, street corner temples, and random stupas filled our remaining time in Nepal.

The chaos of the capital

I've already decided I'm coming back. Good food and incredible mountains make for my ideal sort of world. From Nepal I head back to Kolkata for a short 24hour stopover. I'll have the painful task of saying my goodbyes before heading to Kerala with my mum and Ian for a final two week exploration of a country that already feels like a second home.