the most spectacular public event I have ever witnessed

Mysore to Trishur: 9th May This bus journey weaved threadlike through a changing tapestry of panaoramas - from the dusty plateau of Mysore, through the thick foliage of a nature reserve where elephants bathed and wild deer darted, over hills and throughand the mist of wild bamboo groves, past the regimented discipline of a tea and coffee plantations ended finally by high speed descent down to sea level (God these bus drivers love speed don’t they). Soon, the road was fringed by red tiled houses and countless coconut trees, the hallmark of Kerala. On the bus I met a German, Stephan. He had given up his job as a physiotherapist in Bavaria to do whatever he wanted, and ever since he was a child he wanted to visit India.He had started off in Bombay, there a film studio hired him as an extra for 4 days. His role was to be someone in a party chatting, holding a cocktail, and in return received free lodging and payment. He too was going to the Pooram and we decided to see it together. We arrived at Trishur, Kerala’s cultural capital. The heat hit me as soon as the bus stopped – I wished I was being hosed down like the elephant next to the bus station. The humidity was going to be an issue. It was cool sitting on the big wheel in the funfair at middle of the main square, but otherwise it was stifling. My shirt stuck to my back like damp Kingfisher label. The locals never complain about the heat, they just glow with a gentle sheen. All the men wear dhotis, I might have to buy one if someone can teach me how to tie it. The Pooram, the annual 2 day elephant festival, was the most spectacular public event I have ever witnessed, anywhere. Period. A picture paints a thousand words, so I can never really do it justice with narrative but picture this if you will: Two teams of 30 perfectly tusked temple elephants, stand face to face outside the Vadakunathan temple; on their heads are solid gold headdresses made specifically for the occasion; on each elephant stand 3 men, holding feathers, fans and a decorated silk umbrella with gold and silver trim; hundreds of musicians with trumpets and drums resonate an up-tempo tune; a hollering crowd of 100,000, jump up and down, there’s no space even for a leaf falling from the vibrations to reach the ground. Every few minutes the silk umbrellas on each elephant are changed to a different colour and this continues as each team reciprocates the 40 colour changes over 3 hours. The Pooram at Trishur, an annual festival of elephants and spectacular fireworks Veebu and Sreekanth, two organisers of the Pooram, invited us for a drink in the dark but air conditioned atmosphere of a local hotel, for Stephan his first experience of a bar in India. He was quite surprised, at its dimly lit atmosphere, reminiscent of a Speakeasy in Prohibition America, as if for a cloak and dagger activity hidden from prying eyes – a far cry from airy German beer halls serving frothy steins of lager from whence he came. It’s traditional for the Thiruampady and Paramekkavu temples to put on a fireworks display in the evening and revellers congregated along the main roads. “Fireworks display” is a bit of euphemism here, for me the words conjure up images of families walking hand in hand on dew-soaked lawns “ooohhhing” and “ahhhhhing” at balls of fire that rise and explode in to illuminated flowers in the night sky. The shopkeepers taping up their glass windows provided a clue – this was going to make Guy Fawkes day sound like party poppers. Flashes of intense light lit up the sky and heated our faces, the blast, like a 10,000 watt speaker with the volume knob turned up to 10, sent vibrations through the ground in to our chests; the cheeks, noses and ears of onlookers shook. At one stage, people ran away thinking that history was repeating itself when three years ago a rocket killed 3 people. I went back to the hotel and cleared the plaster that had fallen off the ceiling on to my bed. The fireworks were over, but I could still hear them ringing in my ear drums well in to the morning.

Mysore

Bangalore to Mysore: 8th May

Sitting at the front of an inter-city bus is an unnerving experience as I found out today. You do get a good view with the full vision of the windscreen, but every now and again, your heart goes in to your mouth and misses a beat, as an oncoming bus passes, literally inches away, in a sort of modern day jousting. Maybe it’s just me, no one else seemed to bat an eyelid.

The state bus west out of Bangalore to Mysore is a three hour journey for Rs 50.
Halfway there we breakfasted in a foodhal that served puris and sambar – two food items only, no nonsense, cheap, fast and safe. Just as I was tucking in the bus was pulling out to leave so, hand dripping with sambar, I ran out to stop it only to find it re-parking in the shade of a tree.

Arrived in Mysore at noon and checked in to the New Gayathri Bhavan, a simple and clean place, which charged Rs 185 a night. It was high above the streets so seemed quiet. Quiet that is until the evening, when the generator kicks in a makes a noise not dissimilar to a Porsche 911 flying by. I knew I should have kept those ear plugs they gave me on the flight. The mosquitos here are quite small and bites from them only itch for a short while and they disappear in no time.

Mysore is small enough to walk around – there’s a colourful market place selling powders in a rainbow of colours and rows of red-green mangoes, oranges, jackfruit and green bananas. The mangoes are sweet and so juicy it is practically impossible to eat them without needing a shower.

The Mysore palace dominates the city. A beautiful building, surprisingly modern, it smacks of a gorgeous colonial splendour; scenes from the Jewel in the Crown seem to come right out of the hard-wood floors and spiralling stairwells. The Durbar Hall has an ornate ceiling and sculpted pillars, there is a jewel encrusted golden throne and a gallery of pictures of the Wodeyar dynasty. You have to be nimble footed on the hot pavement stones as you have to enter the palace complex barefoot.

I left the palace and checked my emails at a cyber café –according to www.lonelyplanet.com. there would be a “Pooram” an annual festival of temple elephants which attracts in excess of 100,000 people on the 10th of May in Trichur in north Kerala. So that was it, my next stop.