Kyoto Marathon

A beautiful day for a marathon today in Kyoto: blue sky, light dusting of snow on the mountains, and 16000 people to share it. So I’m trying to put aside my disappointment with my time. Running marathons in Japan is about so much more than the running; it’s the food, the spectators, the never ending ganbatte, fight-o and the little challenges that make you realise you aren’t at home.

I had difficulty finding the correct subway line at Kyoto Station, for one thing, so that I could get to the race start, and getting to the start involved a change of subway lines (meaning I had to stop part way to buy a second ticket); I wasted a lot of time both at Kyoto Station and when I had to change lines and I couldn’t understand the ticket machine, but this meant I had less time for standing around in the cold on the start line. It was freezing in the stadium where we  had to stand through one of those long race introductions that the Japanese love. It’s ok for the officials because they’re all wearing thick coats. At least here I could see exactly what was happening: a band, speeches, athlete introductions.

I had decided to try to run a bit faster at the beginning today and then take walking breaks later on. I felt I ran faster early on than last weekend but I’m not sure if I actually did. We ran through some streets and then out to the edge of Kyoto, towards the mountains it seemed, following a river. There were shrines and memorial stones everywhere, but this is Kyoto. One time we ran under a torii and close to a big temple. The race marshals held a sign where we passed something significant.

The sun was out almost all the way but the air was cold. I couldn’t decide whether to keep my gloves on. Almost nobody was in shorts except for the elites at the front. I came across a group of TV people who were running in formation around someone who was clearly famous: he was a comedian apparently, and he did not look comfortable. The crowds were as enthusiastic as usual, with their yelling and high-fiving. I came into the race with sore legs but surprisingly the pains did not get any worse as I ran. I didn’t want to make any twisting moves, though. Going in a straight line seemed to be fine.

The food came into its own at 15 km. The first offerings were croissant-like buns and bananas. The cherry tomatoes and mandarins came next. Then I grabbed what I thought was a plain bun but turned out to have sweet red bean paste inside; it was surprisingly ok. There were also something called 'tablets' in the race material, which might have been a glucose pill and tasted nice. Each runner was given 2 strawberries. I think I might have been overeating.

After half way we did a lot of running along the river, first on the road and later on an unsealed footpath through parkland. We had several out and backs with a chance to see that I was not at the back of the field. It was very nice running by the river and about the first time I have seen somewhere in Japan where you could actually train properly.

One of the nicest parts was a stretch through the botanic gardens; the gardens were not very exciting but there was a performance of traditional Japanese singing. At other times we passed bands, dancers and groups of cheer leaders. The cutest was a group of little kids with bright orange pompoms.

When it came to it I didn’t do much walking at all. The kilometres were seeming longer and longer but I got into a rhythm and tried to keep running. I walked the aid stations, mostly through necessity because they got very congested. The second half was flatter than the first half, which had several long gradual climbs, until the final 4 kilometres when we began climbing again. 

Around 39 km I suddenly realised I was right behind the 5 hour pace group. This was a shock as I had not noticed them before. I had imagined they were well behind me. They must have gone by when I went to the toilet at 33 km. (There were so many toilets on the course and yet all of them had long queues so I waited ages before I found one without a queue.) I needed to put on a spurt, and I did so but with difficulty because the road was so congested and runners were weaving all over the place. I had to go into the oncoming runners' lane a few times, and since those folk were on their home stretch this was fraught with danger. I expected to get yelled at for this transgression but nothing happened and I managed to get clear of that group. However I was forewarned that my result was not going to be all that good.

I kept up a good pace to the finish despite several awkward turns. Near the finish I ran past the comedian - he was pretty much collapsed on the ground. The finish was right by the bright red torii of the Heian Shrine. Then we had to walk along slowly being given things like a towel, medal, drink and a very small snack of a rice cracker. For the cost of the race they could have given us more food, surely. 

I didn’t know my time until I got my certificate, and I wasn’t overwhelmingly happy when I saw it. Only 3 minutes faster than Himeji. But I had had a nice run and I had survived despite all my aches and strained muscles. I only have myself to blame if I do too much (like a long hike just before the race...)

It was easy enough to leave the race precinct, something I really appreciated, and I got a bus back to my hotel. This was much simpler than getting to the start. As soon as I reached the bus stop and boarded the bus the marathon seemed a million miles away; Kyoto is so busy that even 16000 runners get swallowed up without a trace.

Kumano Kodo hike

Kumano Kodo Trail, an old pilgrimage route across the Kii peninsula, through the mountains from Kii Tanabe on the west coast to Kii Katsuura on the east coast. From Kii Tanabe to Kumano Hongu Taisha shrine (the goal of the pilgrimage) it’s the Nakahechi route and from there it’s the Kogumotori-Goe route to Koguchi and the Ogumotori-Goe route to Nachisan near the coast.

Monday 

Train from Himeji to Osaka, dropped my main bag off at Osaka left luggage, train to Kii Tanabe, bus to Takijiri and then I could start walking.

There was a little shrine at the start and then the path went straight uphill into the forest. 

Mostly it was big, rocky steps or steps made from logs. I was taken aback at the steepness, having assumed the route description was an exaggeration. But it was lovely and quiet. I stopped at a cave, some tiny shrines and lookouts over the mountains and had lunch at the top of the first hill. The path was crisscrossed by tree roots and rocky, and the forest was dense with spindly, leafless trees.

I emerged from the forest at the hillside village of Takahara. There was a nice shrine at the entrance to the village, painted red. The village was small and scattered beneath an impressive mountain panorama. At the hotel in Takahara the onsen looked out over the mountains, and also a long way down over some villages, and so did my room. I didn’t mind at all having a short 4 kilometre day, and I enjoyed the meal they provided - sashimi, cooked fish, mountain vegetables.

Tuesday

I woke up to see the great view from my room and then noticed some tiny snowflakes. Within minutes there was full snowfall and by the time I went to breakfast (fish, vegetables) the ground was white. I thought I had read that they don’t get snow on the trail.

It snowed all morning and it was, of course, a very cold day. I started out with some Australians from Brisbane, which was lucky for me as I would have immediately gone the wrong way. At first I had a lot of uphill, but not especially steep, through forest of tall, straight trees. Going uphill on the snowy surface was fine.

There were more little shrines, and an almost frozen lake, and glimpses across to the mountains which seemed to have a fresh snow covering. I was cold despite walking fast. After a couple of mountain passes the trail descended to a point close to the road where there was a rest area (for drivers) with a shop and vending machines. I got a coffee from a machine and bought some emergency chocolate.

There was a large village not much further on, after I crossed a wide gravelly river, and I had another can of coffee. Hardly anyone was around. From here on the walking was mainly on a minor paved road. The snow was virtually gone but I was still very cold.

I came to another, tiny, village strung out along the road and I saw something in the middle of the road. It was a monkey, and I then saw another one on a roof. I was so excited, and I remembered the Japanese for monkey, so I wanted to tell someone what I had just seen, and lo and behold only a bit further on was a long staircase leading to a shrine and an elderly couple standing there. I told the man about the monkey but he was more excited about meeting a solo non Japanese hiker. After confirming for him several times that I was alone, didn’t live in Japan, and was doing the full walk, he went to his car and got out a packet of orthotic insoles to give me!

It’s impossible to tell from the map which of the villages have shops and which do not. I seemed to have missed my chance to buy lunch at the large village. There were to be no more shops for the day.

It wasn’t much further to my guesthouse but finding it was tricky. I continued on the trail past the marker where the place should have been according to my map but there was nothing. I went on and saw a couple of houses that had cars parked outside: this was promising, but no guesthouse. Then a woman got out of her car so I went over and asked her. The guesthouse was literally across the road, as I found out later, but she hadn’t heard of it. Then I took a different turn and found it, with 2 goats tethered outside. The Brisbane pair were also staying there so the house was full. 13.6 km today and another nice dinner including tempura vegetables and chicken in a wasabi sauce, but, curiously, no fish.

Wednesday

Today was the longest day of my hike, 21 km,  and it was great. It was a beautiful cloudless sunny day. I started out on a road along the edge of the forest then turned deep into the forest for several hours, some of the time with the Brisbane couple. There were 2 climbs to mountain passes; the first was very snowy and slippery but the second had very little snow, however the ascent was endless.

 I saw a few waterfalls and sometimes walked along narrow rivers. There is a long detour to the main track because of a crack that developed in one of the mountains after an earthquake in 2011. The views were generally different from yesterday too: empty valleys and steep hillsides.

On the far side of the higher pass the vegetation was totally different from the tall spindly trees and intermittent bamboo, with lusher trees and lots of ferns. No more snow at all. It was cold in the shade and the sun was not strong on the hilltops. At one point I was lamenting that I had not seen a shop or even a vending machine for about 18 km, when a man drove by and stopped; he gave me 3 mandarins. I ate my lunch by a roadside shrine and saw the Australian family from Canberra. After lunch the walking was easy, for my last 8 km, and I saw several vending machines while walking through some villages.

The highlight for today, and for the hike as a whole, came at Kumano Kodo marker 73 where a path led up to a lookout. Although I had descended a lot I was still fairly high up. I didn’t know quite what to expect here but when I suddenly saw the view of the Kumano Hongu Taisha torii sitting in the valley with huge mountains as a backdrop I was completely blown away. Funnily enough, at the very moment I was saying 'Wow!' aloud a Japanese guy turned up, the first person I had come across hiking the trail apart from the 2 sets of Australians I had already met. The sight of this torii was just staggering. It is huge, the largest in Japan, but to stand out like that against the mountains its positioning had to be perfect.

I walked slowly down the last kilometre to the shrine buildings which inevitably were less impressive. Then I walked out to the torii, but as a structure seen in isolation it is just a big archway, although very, very big. This marks the end of this section of the Kumano Kodo, but I am continuing on another branch to the coast.

Thursday 

I had to walk along the road for half an hour to the new trailhead, and at the shop where I stopped to buy lunch I bumped into the Brisbane couple, so I walked with them all day. The day was a long but gradual climb through lush forest, passing a couple of tea house ruins, some obelisks with poems and a few tiny shrines. There was a great view over the mountains, apparently about 3600 peaks. No snow in sight at all.

We ate lunch at a different lookout point. And then an undulating descent, quite rocky and slippery where the rocks were damp. We came out of the forest by a wide river into a tiny village. The mobile grocer was trying to sell vegetables from his van but there weren’t any customers.

It was a kilometre through the village and across a hillside cemetery to the next village, Koguchi. My friends were envious of where I was staying because they had been unable to get in and had heard good things about it, and then I met someone else who had failed to get in there tonight. When I arrived the owner told me I was his only guest.

The dinner was great: lots of tiny plates of very simple foods including wonderful sashimi. The owner wife came to chat with me and I managed to pull off a reasonable conversation in Japanese.

Friday

After a breakfast that was almost a rehash of dinner I set out, gift wrapped lunchbox in my backpack. I saw my Brisbane friends briefly and gathered that their accomodation was not all that special.

The first part of the hike was a long and often steep climb, on rocks and narrow log steps, often mossy. There was a lot of bamboo among the foliage. It was not so cold today. I quite enjoyed the climb, but I was glad to reach the top, at over 800 meters from an almost sea level start. There were some tiny patches of snow.

Soon after the top the path was closed due to a landslide and instead of another hill climb I contoured around the hill and had occasional views over the surrounding mountains. I was a bit concerned by the lack of signage but I could see footprints. At the end of the detour I came out to the road, a rest area and a vending machine. I left a note there for the Brisbane folk as I wouldn’t see them again.

The route followed the road and a gurgling stream for a while. In many places the road was icy as when I went back into the forest the stretches of ice became more extensive. The path rose and fell, with steps and rocks, until about 5 kilometres from the end there was a viewpoint where I saw the coast for the first and only time. 

The gradual descent to Nachisan was welcome. The path came out into a huge open area of grass then went back into the forest for the final kilometre. The steps down to the finish seemed endless, and the finish itself, by the Nachisan temple grounds (Kumano Nachi Taisha), was quite an anticlimax. There were several temple buildings and a nice red pagoda, but the main shrine was under renovation and was covered by white cloth. I could see the Nachi waterfall not far away, the highest in Japan.

I caught a bus to Kii Katsuura (on the coast) from near the waterfall. I was delighted to discover that Kii Katsuura has the biggest and best tuna fishery in Japan, and consequently dozens of tuna restaurants. I was also pleased to find the town has several foot spas and I made good use of them.

And that is the story of my 70 kilometre hike. 楽しみました！

I made a wallhanging based on a plaque I had seen along the trail.

Himeji Castle Marathon

So here I am, again, at Mister Donut to write about today’s marathon. I was so pleased when I woke up this morning that the rain had gone, and I was also pleased that the large amounts of food I had eaten yesterday had not upset my stomach. 

I ate breakfast in my room - coffee and a bun, luxury after my race breakfasts in India - and walked to the start by Himeji Castle. It was absolutely freezing and I was in no doubt that I had made the correct decision to wear tights. The wait in the starting chute seemed unnecessarily long, with a drumming interlude, lots of speeches, introduction of elite runners etc and I wanted to get going, but surprisingly the race started dead on time. It was just very cold so the wait felt longer.

We ran away from the castle and through the town. The field was very dense with runners, 7000 in this marathon apparently. There were masses of spectators, all cheering, and it was generally extremely noisy. I settled into what felt to me like an average sort of pace but in actual fact was very slow. I think I am still weakened by having been so sick and not yet back to normal running strength. I decided upon a modest goal of beating 5 hours and at this stage I did not think I would have much difficulty.

Once we left the town we followed a river on a straight road, so I could see runners way ahead in the distance. Japanese runners always look very colourful so it was a pleasant picture. The wind was icy. The whole route was lined by marshals in green jackets, and there was barely a metre without any spectators, even out in the countryside. We went along the edge of many villages - I guess the field was so large that we couldn’t go through any villages - and past those small communal farm plots. We were surrounded by low and not so low hills looking very wintry with leafless trees and grey-green grass.

As I ran along I realised quite soon that my right hamstring/glute area was causing me more discomfort than usual. It threatened to make the race very uncomfortable and I did my best to ignore the increasing pain.

One of the race highlights for me came at around 15 km when I saw tiny white flakes in the air. Snow! There’s nothing as good about running a marathon in Japan as when it snows. I don’t know why, I just love it; it’s like it lets me excuse the extreme cold. This wasn’t much of a snowfall, but it got thicker for about five minutes before stopping and starting for a while.

By 18 km I had yet to see another Caucasian, when suddenly a half-Caucasian appeared next to me. I was happy I could speak, even if only briefly, to someone. He told me he was with NHK, the national broadcaster, and wanted to interview me. That was fine and I told him why I love running marathons in Japan. I do love them, but today I was in more than a little pain so I had to remind myself constantly of my goal. 

By half way the pain was bad. I tried to tell myself that soon enough I would be at the finish and I would look back and think this wasn’t too bad. Luckily the aid stations quite suddenly remembered that they were in Japan and morphed from modest water and Pocari Sweat tables into the buffets that they are supposed to be. Good food can go a long way towards alleviating pain.

First there was a tent dispensing big bowls of noodles. I passed on that one. There followed a table with tiny bowls that each held just 2 noodles in ponzu sauce. Delicious. And so cute. Then there were tables with banana and mandarin segments, and bowls of that famous Japan marathon food: cherry tomatoes. There were frequent tables with wrapped lollies and wrapped chocolates. I picked up some chocolate croissants one time; not chocolate covered but with chocolate in the dough. One time I took a risk and tried a wrapped cylindrical thing called 'hamochiku' having checked first that it was food and not a hand wipe; it tasted like seafood and I found out later that it is a rolled sheet of solidified fish paste cooked on a skewer. And green tea mini kitkats. I didn’t take up the offer of red bean soup.

Needless to say (I hope it is needless to say) I didn’t have all these foods at once, but over the next 20 kilometres. 

My hamstring was getting worse and I stopped twice to spray on the ice spray that they always offer at Japanese marathons. I wasn’t sure if it helped but it may have controlled the pain a bit. Lots of people were walking and I started to pass quite a few people. The spectators were still cheering and not appearing bored as if they had been standing there for hours; instead they looked as if they had been waiting for this very moment that we would come by. That was great, but one of the worst parts of the course was a stretch that was inaccessible to spectators so there were loudspeakers offering cheer instead. I hated this even though I could not understand much of it. I think someone needs to pass on to the Japanese the news that silence is golden. Not forever. Just for a while.

We came back into town on a bike path along the river. Actually we had never really left the river. There were a couple of school bands playing, and some drummers. The fervour of the spectators had not diminished at all, but their chant had changed from 'ganbatte' or 'fight-o' to 'mō sukoshi' (just a little more). At the 39 km mark I heard loud cheering and realised that the 5 hour pace group was right behind me. That was a shock but acted like a bullet up my backside and I ran to the finish as fast as I could. Which was not fast. I had been too focussed on making the numerous intermediate cutoffs and forgotten about my 5 hour goal. 

It was wonderful to suddenly see the castle moat and then the castle, then a few turns and we would be done. I made my goal, finishing in 4:58 on the clock and 4:56:03 net. I would never have believed it could be so hard to get under 5 hours. I was slow, I was down near the back, but at least they weren’t yet packing up. 

Here’s a marathon where you not only have a fabulous castle as the backdrop to the finish but you then have a compulsory walk through the zoo to get to the refreshments area. Isn’t that wonderful? The zebras, flamingoes and - yes - kangaroos, didn’t mind either having so many visitors. Oh, and also I was interviewed by 2 journalists about my race experience. I tried to speak some Japanese but it was a big effort and not so successful.

In the finish area there were nice foods. First, hot broth. Then a dough thing with a savoury creamy centre on a stick. Then hot soupy rice pudding. And then you got your certificate to prove that this was not all a dream.

Training run in Himeji

I thought I should go for a little run this morning, here in Himeji, Japan. I mean, there’s a marathon tomorrow and I can’t keep up this theme indefinitely of running marathons without doing any training. But I was reluctant for several reasons. Mainly laziness. Also I was worried that running would enliven my stomach upset which was about the worst one I have ever had and was showing signs of retreating. 

I looked around for my running clothes, which were alarmingly few for a day of just 3 degrees. To the usual tights and T shirt I added some elbow length gloves I had salvaged from an op-shop pile at home and my buff which I think is dead unattractive. I felt warm enough - while inside. 

At the entrance to the hotel I got a surprise: it was raining! I couldn’t see the rain from my bedroom window. By chance a runner was just entering the hotel as I left and I muttered about the rain and cold to him; he recommended the covered shopping arcades adjacent to the hotel. That would be a first: a run through shopping arcades!

Nope, I headed out into the rain, which was not heavy. But I had tried one block of arcade, finding it freezing cold and slippery.

I ran very slowly towards the castle, which is just lovely, and planned to run around it, follow the inner moat for a while and return. It was not misty at all so I had great views of the castle. The city is full on about the marathon with flags and signs everywhere, however I did not see any more runners.

It was a most enjoyable, if short, 5.8 km run. I got lots of different aspects of the castle. I saw the carp in the moat. The streets were quiet. I felt stiff and the aches I’ve been having don’t want to go away, but my stomach was fine. Afterwards I tried to keep away from Mister Donut, my frequent haunt on earlier trips to Japan, but I discovered that I have no willpower whatsoever.

Kolkata Full Marathon

My last day in India and the day of the Kolkata Full Marathon. The race started at 5am, close to my hotel, so I’d set my alarm for 4am. Just before 3am I woke up to odd sensations; please don't let these be stomach cramps, I thought, as I’d been so pleased not to have any dietary afflictions in India. But small stomach cramps they were, and followed up by a vomiting session. What terrible timing. For three milliseconds I contemplated not doing the marathon before continuing with my preparations. I had no more problems although all I could face for breakfast was a black instant coffee and I didn't fancy the dry biscuits I had planned to eat.

This was a much smaller field than Mumbai (in fact there were only to be 121 official finishers and this included just 9 women, but I think a few women missed the 6 hour cutoff) and I positioned myself well to the back. I only saw two other non Indians. I started out slow and to summarize my performance: I got slower. It was dark until 6.30am but extremely humid - the weather forecast had said 90% humidity dropping to 80%. I felt I was suffering from the start. I wonder also if the pollution was a factor. I can see in hindsight that I was not well that morning but because my unwellness did not involve pain I was able to disregard it.

The bulk of the route, 21km done twice, was within the Maidan, the huge area of dusty parkland in the centre of Kolkata. The Maidan has many cricket pitches, club houses for all sorts of organisations, paddocks of grazing animals, is flanked by important buildings and is criss-crossed by wide roads. Its pride and joy, curiously, is the Queen Victoria Memorial at the southern end, an enormous edifice to colonial India completed in 1906.

I have come to love Kolkata in my three days here, it is so vibrant and real (goats being herded through the traffic, the anachronistic rickshaw wallahs, the bathing ghats, chaotic bazaars everywhere) but I did worry about the motorized traffic. It is crazy busy and pedestrians are the lowest of the pile. It was just as well the roads we used were closed to traffic. One short section went beyond the Maidan into a commercial area but it was roped off.

There were very frequent aid stations with water bottles and a sports drink (which I liked) in plastic reusable cups; you had to return the cup after drinking from it and I am sure they were not being washed before being refilled, but I threw caution to the wind for the first time this trip. There were also baby bananas quite often, and dry biscuits. The aid station volunteers, of whom there were masses, were really friendly and supportive. So were the marshals showing the turns. It was a complicated route with many out and backs and I was concerned about finding the way when the field thinned out. I only thought about this afterwards but there was not a single female marshal or aid station worker, although some of the race staff at the expo had been females.

My worst problem in the early part, apart from the high temperature and humidity, was that I found the asphalt slippery and I worried about falling. Later in the day this problem vanished (on the same roads) maybe as the roads dried out from the early mist. There must have been a thin film of oil on the damp surface. I noticed a low mist over some parts of the Maidan.

I was looking forward to the stretch along the Hooghly River but we couldn’t really see it, despite running alongside it, as there is a railway line between the Maidan and the river. But there was a slight breeze along here.

The front runners were passing me on their second lap by 16km, not a good omen but I didn’t care. I just wanted my sore places (glutes, hip flexors, feet) not to give me grief, and likewise my stomach. I can’t think of another time when I’ve not run for two weeks and then my next run has been a marathon. But in all my time in India I only once saw some joggers, here in Kolkata, and they may have been running to catch the traffic light. I don’t honestly believe I could have found somewhere to train.

Most of the route I looked around at the Maidan scenery; there were lots of cricket games. We had some good views of the Vic Memorial from different angles. Later on there were more 'normal' people on the roads, walking along with baggage or in families. They looked at me but few outright stared and those who said something were all friendly, calling me Ma'am.

But I was glad I had taken the precaution of walking to the race in jeans and intended to wear those jeans on the way back too. I could not imagine being seen in the shopping streets in shorts.

Around half way I fell into step with an Indian guy. This was his first marathon and he said he would use me to help him break six hours. I could make no guarantees at this point but I didn’t want to go over six hours either. He told me that his training, which started two weeks ago, had consisted of running for three hours every day and doing a full 42km last weekend. He was wearing a tracksuit. We chatted a lot as his English was very good and I was able to get answers to some things that have been perplexing me. He counseled me against drinking the sports drink from the dirty glasses but I did so anyway. I didn’t tell him about the vomiting.

There was a woman running in a sari and my friend explained that she was wearing it in the Maharashtra way so that she could run in it; I wasn’t surprised because you clearly could not run in a normal sari. Apparently she was going for the world record of running a marathon in a sari but she didn’t make it.

After a while I found even talking and listening to be hard work and I tried to pull away from my friend. But he always came back to me. I was secretly surprised at how well he did but I think this was a factor of my being so much further back in the field than I would usually be towards the end of a race.

I was becoming very keen to finish but I found it hard to keep up running for long. I took an awful lot of walking breaks but still passed people who were walking slower than me. On the home stretch, which was almost 3km, we had to cross a road which had been reopened to traffic; cars, buses and motorbikes were hurtling along and I wasn’t happy picking a break in the flow to cross. While I was waiting my friend was yelling "left! left!" as if I were standing there not knowing which way to go. Really I wanted to avoid getting run over in my haste to finish.

Finally we finished, together, in 5:48. The moment I crossed the finish line and stopped I felt really faint and I knew I had to sit down urgently. Every man and his dog wanted a selfie with me. I think the expression on my face must have been scary. I collapsed down on the dirt at the side of the finish chute. Everyone sits in the dirt in India but not at this place so I elicited a lot of concern, which was touching.

My friend took me to the food area and brought me the post race meal: which I thought was 

potato curry, dal, roti and rice, and an earthenware cup of chai. The chai was the best bit. I had a problem because the stuff I thought was dal looked just like what I had vomited up this morning. But when I carefully tasted it I found it was halva which is really sweet and just what I needed. But I was in a daze staring at the palm trees. I couldn’t eat much at all, and wasn’t hungry when I got back to the hotel. I hadn’t eaten even hours later. An absolute first for me.

An Indian day

I’ve had an Indian sort of a day today. I wanted to go to Osian, an important temple town. I got a rickshaw from the clock tower in Jodhpur to the bus station; having got the driver down from 200 rupees to 50 rupees I then felt guilty because it was further than I expected but he seemed happy enough. At the bus station I located the bus to Osian, with some help. I got on the bus, which showed no signs of departing but had people already on it. The ticket collector arrived and told me to go to window 5 to buy a ticket. There was a little queue but woman are allowed to go straight to the front; unfortunately for me some old women had already done this and were making a tricky purchase which took ages. All the while I hoped the bus would not go without me. When I got my turn I could see why it took so long - the man typed the ticket order on an antiquated computer where several keys clearly didn’t function. He duly printed my $1 ticket and flung it on the counter. I boarded the bus and sat with an Indian girl of 18 who was also going to Osian, with her family, as a pilgrimage. Incidentally, nobody else had pre purchased a ticket before boarding.

So when we arrived in Osian, an hour and a half for 64 km on a decent road with a few cows to dodge and a big bottleneck in one town because the road was too narrow for the bus to get past anything, I got off the bus with the family as I too was going to the temples. I walked with them down the street to the first temple, but unfortunately it was closed today because of something to do with the moon. Shame. A man who was clearly a guide came up to me and told me where the other main temple was. I made it clear I didn’t want a guide and he understood. But for the rest of the morning wherever I went he would mysteriously be there before me! I parted company with the pilgrimage family, who were making urgent phone calls.

On the way to this second, Jain, temple I had a nasty experience: four boys cornered me in the street asking for money and I could not get past them. So I turned back to the small square I had just left where I knew there were other people. The boys walked away.

The temple was good, lots of carving and a tall stupa with an ugly steel staircase to the top, closed to climbers, and a painted story of someone's 26 plus incarnations. I avoided the guide on the way out by leaving via what appeared to be a boys' school.

I returned to the shopping street and stopped for a chai and snack of a sweet pastry thing I have seen in lots of places, actually they gave me four of them. Then I crossed the road to look at a set of temple ruins from the 8th and 9th centuries. They were on plinths and goats were grazing on the plinths. The whole area was a sea of littler. As I walked around a boy came asking for money in a mean way so I backtracked to the road and waited until some other people came to look at the ruins too. From here I got a view of the tops of the stupas of the closed temple so that was a bonus.

After all this work I needed a toilet but could not see one. I went to a restaurant to ask to use theirs but they said it wasn’t working today; however they offered to let me use the toilet in one of the rooms of the adjacent hotel. They unlocked the room for me and I went in, closing the bathroom door. At this point I realised it was the electricity that wasn’t working today. When I wanted to leave the bathroom, in the pitch black, I couldn’t find the door! After what seemed like ages, the two restaurant workers waiting outside the door, I located the door hinges and found the handle. Of course I gave them a tip, which in Australian terms was like $7 for a pit stop.

Then I hailed the bus back towards Jodhpur. My guide friend was sitting at the chai stall by the bus stop. The bus was very full and they motioned to me to sit at the front, in the driver's cabin, where there were cushioned seats. I wasn’t fussed but they insisted so I got in. You need to be a gymnast to get inside but it was great to have such a clear view of the road as we went. The driver was never fully on our side of the road and was expert at avoiding cows.

I wanted to get off at Mandore to visit the gardens. The bus didn’t go the same way as the outward ride but some other passengers told me when to get off, and then I had a long rickshaw ride. 

The gardens, home to numerous cenotaphs for Jodhpur's rulers from the 1500's onward, were amazing. Masses of mini temple-like structures with lots of carving, cool to linger in and surrounded by foliage. Soon I noticed there were dozens of monkeys: climbing the temple walls, swinging from the trees, sitting in a circle on the ground and I saw one eating crumbs from a plastic bag. This place was full of rubbish everywhere except on the cenotaphs. There was an almost stagnant creek, covered with green slime, full of plastic bottles and it actually had ducks in it.

I wandered towards the fort (Mandore used to be the capital here before Jodhpur) and was soon being hassled by a youngish boy. I spotted a couple sitting not far away so I went, boy following me, towards them, because it’s the easiest way to deflect the attention off me if I move to where I’m not alone; the couple looked rather surprised when we appeared near them but at least the man, who had been talking angrily, stopped yelling. Then outside the fort a woman pestered me to buy flowers.

It was very hot. I walked back to the park entrance and saw a minibus waiting. I asked the ticket man if it was going to Jodhpur but he seemed to motion that he didn’t understand. I asked the driver, once I could get his attention, and I took it that his vague head nodding meant yes. It turned out to be an excellent choice because I didn't have to go via the bus station. I was so pleased that I went and bought a kachori and a samosa at the very popular place by the market and sat by a bangle stall to eat them, and then bought some bangles because everyone else was stopping there to buy bangles.

At night I went as usual to the rooftop restaurant at my hotel. There were some fireworks at the fort just as I arrived on the roof so luckily I was able to see them. It was a wonderful temperature and very still. I had a paneer curry with a tomato sauce and rice and naan, and I am getting better at eating with my hands.