Sunday, December 26

Today we went on the longest trip to date, to Hogennakel Falls 150 km
away. Our driver Anand recommended this place on the third day we were
in Bangalore, saying "Hogennakel. Full falls, sir. Boating, sir."
After asking around if there is a place called Wigglenickel (which is
what it sounded like when Anand pronounced it), it was determined that
Hogennakel is a waterfall on the Kavery River on the border of
Karnataka and Tamil Nadu, it's about 30 meters high, and you can take
a ride in a traditional round Indian coat called a coracle there. 

Even though the distance to Hogennakel is fairly short by our
standard (less than 100 miles), the drive there took a full 4
hours. About 70 km was on a nice modern highway (which Anand greatly
enjoyed), and the rest was on village roads of varying quality.

After leaving Bangalore, we crossed over the state border into Tamil
Nadu (and had to pay a 550 Rupee tariff since we had Karnataka license
plates). The road went through a tupical rural South Indian landscape:
coconut palms and rice fields. The rice fields were full of water (the
monsoon was good this year), and people were plowing them with
buffalos and some tractors, and planting rice.

The last 20 km were made interesting by local villagers using the road
as a place to thresh grain. This was very ingenious in my opinion:
they placed harvested corn and lentil plants onto the road so that the
passing cars would drive over them. After a few hours they swept the
now broken up stalks and separated grains off the road and sieve it to
get the grain out. Now I understand why there are so many different
commercials for tough car tired on Indian television. At the entrance
to each village there was a giant statue of fearsome looking Indian
god which was supposed to protect the village (Anand told us his name,
but of course we immediately forgot), .

Hogennakel is small village inside the national park, I think the
locals make most of their money off tourism. The visitors are mostly
Indian, given that I could not find any mention of Hogennakel in any
English language guide books, and the stares that everyone gave
us. Anand found us a guide with a boat (and, as it turned out,
negotiated a very bad price for the 2 hour trip). The first time you
see them, the boats, which are basically tarred bamboo baskets about
1.5 meters in diameter, do not inspire much confiedence. When you see
the fairly tubulent water in the river, you pause to reconsider
whether it is wise to get in.

Anyway, we got into the coracle and settled on the floor (immediately
getting wet, since any water that gets into the boat pools there). We
first crossed over a small side channel and walked over to a viewpoint
to see the falls, while our guide portaged the boat. The Kavery river
here is split into several channels by small islands, and some of the
water cascades down the side of the main gorge. Looking down, we could
see people in coracles in the river, going almost under some of the
waterfalls.

After taking pictures, we walked into the gorge and got back into our
boat. The coracles are propelled by sitting in front of the boat,
facing forward, and rowing straight in front of yourself with one
oar. It does not look like it should work, but it does. Our guide
rowed us upstream towards the falls, and partway under one of them. I
was glad I had a plastic bag to cover my camera.

Next, we floated downstream for about half a kilometer to a small
beach, where the river makes a bend. Along the way, there were kids
sitting high on the cliffs, who offered to jump down into the river
(about 15 meters) for 10 rupees. Even though the water looked deep,
we decided not to encourage them. At the little beach there were
several women selling fried curried fish, and lots of families
swimming and sunbathing. We opted for some fish, after having a small
negotiation about the quantity and the price (conducted in sign
language, and even then we did not understand half the hand jestures),
we were served a piece of bright orange fish on a piece of
newspaper. It was good, but very spicy.

While we were wondering around the beach, several people came up to
us, wondering where we were from, and then asked to pose with us for a
picture. Invarianbly, when we asked back where where they from
(expecting them to name their home town or state), the reply we got
was "We're Indians!" No, really? I did some unintended advertising for
Google, because I was wearing one of their tshirts.

After getting back, we walked around the village for a bit and then
went to see the main waterfall, which again was formed by water going
over the side of the gorge. There was a small platform built next to
the fall, and people were taking a shower under the water. Upstream,
there were also people washing their hair and doing laundry in the
river. Now we were glad we didn't go for a swim.

Driving back home, we managed to take a road that bypassed most of the
villages and did not participate in the grain threshing process. On
the highway, where there was now more traffic, there were several cars
(and trucks) going down the road _the wrong way_. The reason is that
the highway has a divider in the middle, so once you get onto the
wrong lane (and they are not very well signed), you cannot turn around
easily. So people just kept going, slowly, until a convenient place to
stop. It didn't seem to bother anyone.