We started the day with a tour to see how some of the hardworking underbelly of Mumbai make a living.

Like in Fort Kochi, the British officers brought and kept their dhobis (laundry men) and in 1947, after independence, the dhobis remained and started servicing Indian needs (hospitals, hotels, businesses that require uniforms, and textile factories).

The ghats abut the Byculla train station and laundry is delivered by train or cart. The dhobis are not native to Mumbai, and live in miserable conditions surrounding the ghats – however, an emblem of pride is a dish attached to the patchwork roof of their dwelling!

we took the train several stations to Church Gate, where we watched the dabba wallas at work. On the way we saw these poor women (likely of the lowest caste)replenishing the crushed rocks between the railway tracks using nothing but a metal scoop. Back breaking work!

Dabba wallas are peculiar to Mumbai.

Dabba = box (usually a cylindrical tin or multiple containers also called “tiffin”;

Walla or wallah = a doer or holder – person.

When literally translated, the word “dabba walla” means “one who carries a box”.

In 1890 a Parsi banker wanted to have a home-cooked meal in his office, and so the first Dabba walla and the profession came into existence. Many others liked this idea and the demand for home-cooked meals delivered to the place of work soared. Mahadeo Havaji, a Parsi, saw the business opportunity and started the lunch delivery service with 100 dabba wallas and it continues in a very similar delivery format to this day as an association. Most dabba wallas are related to each other, belong to the Varkari sect of Maharashtra, and come from the same small village near Pune. Income of about 8,000 rupees a month ($125) is divided equally between all the dabba wallas who are self-employed, but belong to a union which guarantees a monthly income and a job for life!

Nowadays, about 5,000 dabba wallas, wearing a traditional Ghandi cap, deliver tiffin boxes to about 200,000 customers who pay about 3,000 rupees a month ($45).

How does it work? A dabba walla picks up the tiffin box from the home of the customer during mid to late morning. The lunch box is marked with alpha numeric coding to identify the pick up area, individual, delivery area and delivery location. These dabbas are then taken to the closest train station, and delivered by train to one of several central distribution spots (this is the step that we visited). The tiffins are carried from the train in long (about 5 feet) shallow crates and are then divided into delivery location using the coding. The dabbas are loaded on to a bicycle (up to about 25 per bicycle) for delivery by the local dabba walla. This whole process is repeated in reverse, after lunch, to return the tiffin from the office back home!

Afterwards we drove by and made quick visit to India Gate, built to commemorate the visit of King George V and Queen Mary and the imposing Taj Mahal hotel.

Our drive from the airport to the Fort area of Mumbai provided quite an eye opening experience as to the variance of life styles in this teeming city of 21million. From Wikipedia: “Mumbai, also called Bombay, is the capital city of the state of Maharashtra in India, and it’s the most populous city in India. As the 4th most populous city in the world and one of the populous urban regions in the world.”

A walk around the Fort neighborhood, where our hotel is located, offered a perspective of wide boulevards, green spaces, massive Victorian style buildings with colonnades, and these playing fields, Azad Maidan, and Tudor-style club house ( previously known as the Bombay Gymkhana club house built in 1875). The grounds cover 25 acres and are used for inter-school cricket matches, protest meetings – to include the largest ever by Mahatma Gandhi in December 1931, and yesterday for the Mumbai marathon, which we, thankfully, missed!

And then there is this – massive structure – bathed in the beautiful golden light of late afternoon. The railway station!! Formerly named The Victoria Terminus in 1887, in honor of Queen Victoria. It was designed by Frederick William Stevens and the architecture represents “progress and prosperity” through a variety of sculpted birds and animals. It is now a UNESCO World Heritage site and was renamed Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus in 1996.

The Municipal Corporation Headquarters was also designed by Stevens in Gothic Revival style and built in 1893. Noteworthy is its 255 ft tall tower with the central dome rising to 234 feet.

On the streets …

Our descent from Kothagiri to Coimbatore was long and careful, giving us plenty of opportunity to savour the breath-taking views and realize the magnitude of these. NilGiris mountains.

Monkeys were everywhere alongside the road and jumping from branch to branch.

The cool air remained in the hills and Coimbatore was hot, dusty and a bustling metropolis with over 3million people going about their daily business.

Our train was just 30minutes late, and despite the packed platform, the carriage was not full. Some like to bring a full meal along even though there is plenty to buy from the stewards during the almost four hour ride.

Rice paddies en masses along the way!

Arrival at Ernakulam Junction at 5pm on a Friday was crazy! Luckily Nan had insisted on having a driver meet us to take us down to Alleppey -a two-hour drive. The roads were full of motor cycles, tuk-tuks, , bicycles, trucks, cars, people!!!

It was dark when we arrived, so we could only get a sense of how lovely the Kayaloram Heritage Resort would be. Sure enough! The next morning as the sun rose over the lake and house boats and fisherman were on the water creating a peaceful scene, the previous day of travel was forgotten. A gaggle of geese and an unlikely flock of guinea fowl and a rooster roamed the grounds and the open-air lobby.

The accommodations were lovely little cottages.

We spent the morning browsing some of the local stalls and shops in Alleppey.

The highlight was a three-floor store with one floor dedicated to saris. Being a Saturday, the young brides-to-be were out in full force – with their friends, sisters, mothers and other advisors in tow.

Many theories as to their racial origin have been suggested, but the Todas themselves believe that ” God dropped a pearl on the Nilgiris, out of which sprang the mother Goddess, Thakkirsi, who, with a tap of her cane, created, out of the dust of the hills, the first Toda and his Buffalo. The influence of this legend on the Toda life and religion is profound, for their entire social and religious life revolves around their buffaloes and it is only with much reluctance that a Toda can be forced out of, what he believes, is his birthplace in the Blue Mountains (The Nilgiris). ”

The Todas live in a village, which is called a “Mund”. Their houses are igloo-like oval-pent-shaped huts made of bamboo and dried grass fastened together with rattan, and thatched. The entrance is small – only about 3 feet high – and access to the inside is possible only by crawling.

The Toda temple in each Mund is similar to these huts, though they may be slightly bigger and have walls of stone slabs instead of wooden planks plastered with dung and clay as in the case of the dwellings. In front of the door was a large slab of stone which is removed for the priest to enter. Men may go inside the enclosure, and women have to be on the outside of the enclosure.

Todas wealth are measured by their buffaloes. The men tend to the Buffaloes and the women craft fancy ringlets and silver jewellery and embroider shawls and bed and table linen by embroidering in a crewel style using mainly black and red wool thread on a cream background.

We met Vevi Killi who invited us into her home for a cup of tea and then we settled ourselves under an ancient tree where she showed me how to do their embroidery. The patterns are all memorized! I didn’t do too badly!

Her husband cooled the tea by pouring from one beaker to another.

The village.

Yesterday we visited the Homedale processing plant in Coonoor. During our stay at Akriti, we have learned much about the growing of tea, harvesting, how weather and site location affect the quality of the tea, and so much more. The process used at this plant was CTC (crush turn curl).

Ravi told us, and we were surprised to learn that “all teas – white, green, oolong, and black are made from the leaves of the same species. While the varietal of the particular Camellia sinensis plant as well as the weather conditions and soil contribute to the final taste of the tea, the significant differences of tea type develop in the processing of the leaves. The distinguishing factor that determines whether tea leaves will become white, green, oolong or black is in the oxidation.”

“High quality green tea requires tender and freshly plucked buds from the small-leafed China variety of the tea bush – Camellia sinensis var. sinensis. Since green tea does not undergo any fermentation, great care is needed during handling, transportation, and storage of the leaf prior to manufacture, as bruising and excessive heating immediately encourage fermentation and microbial infection. The plucked leaves are directly heat-treated, rolled, and dried.”

So much excitement this morning at Akriti! The milkman, Devrag, brought Lakshmi, one of his dairy cows – she is part Jersey part Brahmi – decked out in her Pongal make-up and finery. A special feast of sugar cane, bread, coconut, and cane leaves was prepared in her honor. BTW: Lakshmi is the goddess of wealth.

We boarded the quaint NilGiris narrow gauge train at 2 p.m. for the 46 km ride between Udhagamandalam (Ooty) and Mettupalayam in the foothills.

It was in 1854 that the first plans were drawn to build a mountain railway from Mettupalayam to the Nilgiris Hills and 45 years later the first train chugged through the hills carrying liquid cargo to the British (think gin!) it was later used as a tea train, and only afterwards for passengers. PSeeing the terrain, this was quite an engineering feat. The train itself is a charming blue and cream with wooden coaches and bench seats. Lovely trim work is now somewhat dilapidated, but the impression remains. The carriages are hauled up hills by diesel steam engines, designed and built by the Swiss Locomotive Works, and a brake-man travels at the back of the last carriage – the first class carriage we rode in.

There are five stations between Mettupalayam and Coonoor – Kallar, Adderley, Hill Grove, Runnymede and Kateri – and four between Coonoor and Ooty. It was in Kallar that we stopped to add water to the engine and the engineers lubricated the camshafts and levers that turn the wheels.

The diesel train journey is quite magical as you meander through eucalyptus and tea plantations to subtropical vegetation and the views of the NilGiris.

Nan and I had the opportunity to attend another church service – Matins, in English and led by a very good lay preacher of the Church of South India – this time in historic St. Stephen’s Church, in Ooty.

Here is is the backstory about St. Stephen’s as written and compiled by Nan where she quotes almost entirely from what she found on the internet titled “A Journal Entry by Tristan Hunt, 2003.”

What follows is lifted word for word…  photos are mine – taken on Sunday.

“… to enter the porch of St. Stephen’s is to re-enter a lost universe of Anglo-India: of duty, militarism, and racial solidarity. Here, the administrators of the Indian civil service, the soldiers of the Bengal Artillery and Light Dragoon’s, and the missionaries of Anglicanism celebrated their civilization amid the encircling jungle of the western Ghats.

“And here lie their monuments to the fallen — those who gave their lives for a vision of India.  The Rev. William Sawyer ‘who having labored with a diligence and zeal for six years as a missionary to the heathen at Madras died in the faithful discharge of his duties as chaplain of this station.’ Poor Georgiana Grace, ‘the beloved wife of JC Wroughton, Esq, Principal Collector of this Province’ who died at the age of 30 ‘leaving her husband and seven children to deplore their irreparable loss’.  The unfortunate Richard William Preston, a captain in the 1st Bombay Grenadiers, who ‘drowned in the Kromund River while out hunting with the Ootacamund Hounds. Thy Will Be Done.’

“The very fabric of St. Stephen’s was a statement to English imperial hegemony. It’s architect, John James Underwood, a captain in the Madras Engineers, extracted its wooden beams from the remains of Tipu Sultan’s palace in Seringapatam, some 100 miles -east of Ooty.  Tipu Sultan Fath Ali Khan, the Tiger Prince of Mysore, was one of the most persistent obstacles to the expansionist ambitions of the East Indian Company. Time and again during the late 18th century, he powered through Britain’s ‘thin red line’, capturing thousands of soldiers in the process.

“Most would succumb to infection in his disease-ridden dungeons. But Sultan’s palace was also a place of more intimate fears as captive British soldiers were pressured into joining the Mysore army. As part of their induction, the hapless warriors of empire were, according to an account unearthed by historian Linda Colley, body-shaved, stretched naked over a large bowl and ‘circumcised by force’. The British army was systematically unmanned. Seringapatam constituted a site of deep horrors, both physical and psychological, for the British colonial imagination.

“It took a Wellesley — Richard Wellesley, Governor General of Bengal and brother of the future Duke of Wellington — to crush the Tiger Prince in 1799 and open up Southern India for British rule. Pictures of the killing of a tiger, complete with leather boot atop the skinned Nimal’s head, would become a favorite leitmotif for Victorian Rule in and over India.”

“Underwood’s decision to strip Seringapatam for the roof of St. Stephen’s was the ecclesiastical equivalent of shooting the tiger. The thick beams which had provided the foundations for the Tiger of Mysore would support the Anglican soul of Ooty. Here the soldiers, tax-collectors and British colonial elite gathered to reaffirm their victory over Tipu Sultan’s India.”