Thursday, March 17, 2011

India part 22: Chandigarh

Carvings, Rock Garden

Thought Antony Joseph (he of Ooty Thread Garden fame) was a nutty maverick? Meet Nek Chand.

Sitting man, Rock Garden

Okay, that isn't actually Nek Chand, it's a sculpture built by Nek Chand and his team, one of hundreds housed (or gardened) in the famous Chandigarh Rock Garden. Our guide book told us it's "said to be India's second most visited tourist site, after the Taj Mahal", to which I say: "Who 'said' that? Because it sounds like bollocks to me." Not that it isn't massively awesome, though.

Wall of plugs, Rock Garden

Here's the story. In 1957, government worker Nek Chand sneaks onto some private land, and using discarded junk, industrial waste, broken plates and ROCKS, starts building bridges, castles, courtyards and weird statues, creating the kind of rock garden mainly seen in the post-cheese dreams of madmen. He continues this illegal secret activity in his spare time. For 13 years.

Plug wall close-up, Rock Garden

One day in 1976, Chandigarh's city government find out about this surreal art-installation-cum-gardening project, possibly due to the fact that it now covers 12 acres of land - 12 acres! Nowadays, they would've burnt it down, seized his Twitter account details and sent him to rot in prison, but this was the '70s; the authorities realised they had an amazing, weird, unique piece of outsider art on their hands, so they gave him some money and workers, and told him to keep going. For the win.

Reindeer (?), Rock Garden

An influence on Gary Larson, perhaps? The exit is funny, because you walk through one of the archways (it looks like any other), and you're suddenly outside and it's all over. We weren't the only ones who made a little disappointed noise when we realised this sad truth. Someone should stand by the exit taking photos of people's faces as they appear, and put them all on a blog, captioning each picture with the word: "Oh."

Bracelet man, Rock Garden

Still, you can always grab a cup of chai to drown your sorrows. Unbelievably, the tea place is not called the Hard Rock Cafe. Disgraceful.

Wednesday, March 09, 2011

India part 21: Shimla

*Searches diary for stuff about Shimla, finds nothing.*

Viceregal Lodge (sepia)
The Viceregal Lodge, so-called because it houses the Indian branch of Vice magazine.

Viceregal Lodge
More Viceregal Lodge action. Probably the setting for at least one Sarah Waters novel.

Indira Gandhi statue
Indira Gandhi statue, looking a bit Airfix.

Christ Church at sunset
Christ Church at sundown...

Christ Church on a clear day
Christ Church not at sundown.

Sun-kissed chimney

Red house
Finishing with a couple of ker-classic Shimla buildings. The first one reminds me of Cheshire.

Tuesday, March 08, 2011

Manali afterthought

It wasn't until we got to Varanasi a week or so later that I came across this wonderful line in Che Guevara's The Motorcycle Diaries, but it reminded me of our spell in Manali, so here it is:
"Alberto, unmoveable, was resisting the morning sun's attempt to disturb his deep sleep, while I dressed slowly, a task we didn't find particularly difficult because the difference between our night wear and day wear was made up, generally, of shoes."

Monday, March 07, 2011

India part 20: Manali

Snowy autorickshaw

Eleven hours on a state bus wrapped in blankets. Facing a blizzard in sandals. Falling over in the snow and losing my wedding ring. Wet clothes, no coat. Not finding the ring. Returning to a freezing bedroom without a heater. A very upset stomach. Wife getting her face cut by a falling coathanger...

These were just some of the highlights of our visit to Manali. Okay, so it probably wasn't very bright to turn up in January without any warm clothes, but still. "Whole town is close," the bus conductor kindly told us as we rocked up after the mammoth journey, with the snow falling and the dark rising. Thankfully, we'd misheard him: "Old Town" was closed, which is the traveller enclave further up the hill - Model Town and New Manali were fine, and probably a hell of a lot more picturesque than they are without their winter coat.

Trees

On the plus side - and we did eventually see the plus side - SNOW YAY. I hadn't really imagined such a thing in India (hence the inappropriate clothes).

Hippy bus

On the second day, having shivered through the night with my head wrapped in a scarf, things improved with the purchase of a cheap pair of trainers which I later found out to be Japanese-made badminton shoes and, with my dark blue jeans, made me look like Craig David. Also a coat, which we judged "UK-acceptable", i.e. an item that can be worn or used back home without looking like a dick, unlike much of the produce sold in traveller bazaars and markets (talking to you, man sitting in his lounge wearing fishermen's trousers and playing bongos).

A bit more snug, we made it up to the Hadimba Temple, where the enthusiasm of the Indian tourists, engaged, as usual, in numerous silly photoshoots, started to get a bit more infectious. And there was no denying the existence of a bit of a Narnia vibe.

Gates

Pot

Path

The sun came out the following day and the snow began to thaw, causing mini-snowfalls as the warmer temperature scattered it from the eaves and ledges. We finally made it up to Old Manali, and lo, everything was closed.

Uh, okay

(It was January.) Who needs restaurants and cafes, anyway? Instead, there were loads of kids skiing, sledging and skidding down the streets, some at alarming speeds. Alarming to us, not them, it seemed. By the time we turned round to walk back into town, the thaw was in full swing, and it was as if the trees were throwing snowballs at us. Then, in an unsually un-Indian like act of aggression, a person threw a snowball at us, more specifically at Sarah, so I defended her honour by chucking one back, like that bit in Groundhog Day, as he whimpered, "Sorry! Sorry!" and hid in a doorway.

Old Manali

In summary, then: one million off-season bonus points.

Signs I have seen #327

"Actually, I am, you didn't give me time to answer."

Drive to Die contest: entry is open

Thursday, March 03, 2011

Made-up Indian jokes #12

And finally...

Q: What was the Buddhist Monk's favourite Seattle-based '90s grunge band?
A: Soundgarden.

Wednesday, March 02, 2011

Made-up Indian joke #11

Q: How do you get a good price when you're buying sandals?
A: Bata.

Signs I have seen #314

I think I read about this place in the Daily Mail. Run by green-skinned paedo immigrants, apparently.

Grooming

Tuesday, March 01, 2011

Made-up Indian jokes #10

Q: Which Star Wars villain has a fondness for south Indian doughnut-shaped lentil cakes?
A: Darth Vada.

Signs I have seen #292

It's the place to take your broken stationery...

Writers' A&E