Lonovla

Was cool!...

We (all 23 volunteers on this project) checked into "The Strand Hotel", a large, simple and clean place, with a wall-less downstairs reception area where we could sip ice-cold beer and enjoy the cooling breeze.

We had arrived via a jeep journey that had those new to India shutting their eyes and cringing as the driver (rather calmly by local standards) avoided precipice and buses on the winding roads.

The landscape here was no longer the lush green pines of the north, but a dry red-brown earth with smatterings of vegetation around the hills and valleys. It could have passed for the western US, or even Australia, but for the cows in the road and distinctly Indian lorries, decorating in a multitude of colours with "Horn Please, OK" stencilled on the back.
Once arrived and checked in, we set off into town for supplies for the next 2 days trekking. Some Gaandu at the last camp had nicked my torch, so for 50 rupees I got an even brighter LED one including batteries.

The town itself was lovely, small, friendly, with nothing of the hawking, begging and touting, staring, and sexual harassment we got in Delhi. Lots of families, women shop-keepers, and even a few bars, as it is a tourist town albeit off-season. That night we had a talk by the trekking leader, who also shown us a slide show of his climes up Everest, or K2 as he prefered to call it. The problems he faced and the pride the nation has in him were clearly evident. That's something I really do like about India- despite never seeming to think or plan ahead, the country has a pride and "can-do" attitude that is simply overwhelming.

The next day we went for the trek. It was easier/less technical than the one we done in Himachal, but a hell of a lot longer. I was glad my cold had died down a bit, as a few times I was breathing heavy trudging up the paths in the heat. We stopped plenty for those who were struggling, and the general pace was slow, so it was quite a pleasant walk through dried up rice paddy's and woods.

After a few hours we arrived at a small village, not much more than a cluster of wood and dung built houses, gathered around a rather grand white-washed concrete general store. There we found a large hut with a compacted cow-dung and ash floor, where we had an afternoon siesta.
Later in the afternoon, the trek leaders set up ropes to climb along between two trees, and generally got a feel for the abseiling equipment. Then we absailed down the wall of a nearby fort. I've abseiled plenty of times in the past, and although I was a little ropey (groan) I bounced down fast enough (as fast as the bloke would let me anyhow), feeling a little let-down I only got one go, and no opportunity to go down facing forwards.
More impressive was Mrs Grasshopper, who despite being scared of heights, bobbed down straight after me!
Tea was served in someones house, a great home-cooked meal of Dhal, rice, chapatis and curried vegetables.

That night we sat around the campfire as the trek leaders bashed out some Indian songs, literally, on washing-up bowls and stainless steel plates as they sang their favorites. They sky wasn't as clear as Africa, but we were happy, warm and comfortable. Due to shortage of tents, I shared with the only other blokes here out of the 23 volunteers; Ozzy/Scottish James, and another martial arts trainee called Chris from Germany. Mrs G shared with Shirley, and Elaine, Shirley's roommate from Mumbai.
The following morning we trekked back, via a rest stop at a large lake surrounded by beautiful mountains. The heat was somewhere in the high 20's, so Mrs G and 15 odd other volunteers (who all happened to be around 20 years old, slim and female) stripped down to their skimpy underwear and frollicked in the cold water, while I chilled out on the beach. It was a hellish stop that one, thinking back.

Eventually we got back to a village near the road, where we were picked up and driven back to the hotel for a late dinner and a cold beer (seems we get through a lot of Kingfisher in the warm south!).

We then had the Ashram "thing"... well, I done the Yoga, which was a relaxing and highly enjoyable experience I didn't think I'd like as much as I did, but then I left. Much as I love trying new things and all that, the meditating, chanting "Ooommmmm" and diet of beans, curd and chillies etc just ain't my thing. Neither is being covered in mud, stuffed with dodgy herbs or having water piped up my arse (I've long designated that a one-way passage anyway). So I slunked off and updated this blog. Then, like many Brits abroad, I got pissed and sunburned by the pool.

I did finally get to go running one morning (skipping Yoga), the first time I've had chance due to illness and location, and realised I still wasn't over my cold. I ran round a set route, which actually brought people out of their houses to stare at me, and one young boy to run next to me just to laugh as I thundered painfully up the hills and tripped and stumbled down the other side, a coughing, choking, sweating, snotty mass of milk-white legs and streaming red face.

We also gate-crashed a wedding (!), and got all our laundry done. All in all, a nice few days before we finally got up at 4.30am, jumped onto the early morning train, slept, then woke up to a night-shrouded Goa...