Kodaikanal, Tamil Nadu, India
Mid January, 2010
One of the drawbacks of seeing the world is that you have to find somewhere to sleep whilst doing it. Travelling to different places is great, but each time we are faced with the same hassle of finding accommodation once we arrive in a new town. As we are on a bit of a budget, we have been trying to keep the costs down as much as possible, but standards and prices vary so much more from place to place in India that paying roughly the same in each location, as we did in Sri Lanka, has proved much more difficult.
There are also the delights of the accommodation itself. A prime example of a worst-case-scenario room was our hotel in Kodaikanal, a small town up in the mountains of Tamil Nadu. At first glance it appeared acceptable; if a little dingy, the room had all the requisite furniture at a reasonably cheap price, so crumbling concrete and peeling paintwork didn’t seem too much of a problem. We were so tired after a rather hair-raising bus journey up the mountain that we were less thorough in our room inspection than usual. It was only once we had checked in and paid the hefty two night deposit they that the flaws started to make themselves apparent. The room key was in the door, but it took five minutes of wrestling with the handle to actually get the thing to lock. Once we had set
our bags down, I realised that there was an underlying odour of wet dog, possibly from the slightly damp blankets. When I actually threw back the sheets on the bed, I found what looked like dried grain of rice, as if someone had decided to eat their dinner under the covers. The bathroom was even more of a disaster. When flushed, the toilet merely dribbled, whereas the sink had a tendency to flood the whole room. I discovered that shower tap had apparently been welded shut and I was expected to wash from a single tap at hip height and a miniscule bucket. Then there wasn’t actually a light that worked in there, so after dusk I had to perform my ablutions in the dark. Thoroughly disgruntled, I tried to sleep in the mangy sheets, only to find that a pack of mangy dogs had decided to take up residence right outside our window and howled throughout the night.
Now, those of you who know me well will be aware that I am usually quite a mild-mannered person. I don’t tend to easily get in a temper or relish confrontation; in short, I am not prone to diva-esque tendencies, particularly in business-like situations. However, after a less-than-restful night in a scummy room with, I was less than happy. To put it bluntly, I was in possibly one of the worst moods of my life. Very soon after sunrise, I declared there was no way we were spending a minute longer than necessary in that place and headed out in search of alternative accommodation. It was one of those days where I was just destined to be disappointed in every way: the café we wanted to breakfast in was closed; I desperately needed a big mug of tea and instead got a thimbleful of overly sugared brown liquid; we’d planned on hiking (that was the whole reason for visiting Kodaikanal) but it was pouring with rain. Upon finding another (slightly more expensive but much, much nicer hotel), we returned to do battle with the “management” ( for “management” read “sulky hotel skivvy who was too uninterested to do anything other than feign a sudden loss of English language skills”). This provided me with the opportunity to give full vent to my feelings, taking full advantage of my experiences of the most haughty and demanding Big Sky guests. I may have only got a portion of our deposit back, but boy did it make me feel better!
In an effort to salvage the visit and retain at least some fondness for the town, the next day I dragged Paul down to the lake for a to rent a pedalo, which is apparently “the thi
ng” to do if you’re a couple in Kodaikanal. He wasn’t quite as impressed by the cheesiness of this as I was, but at least my customary enthusiasm for even the most ridiculous things was returning (although I was very disappointed that we couldn’t get a swan boat and had to make do with Mickey Mouse). And when it rained on us again, I was relieved that we had a room with a hot shower to return to.
Needless to say, our trip to the beautiful hill country of Kodaikanal was not as wonderful as it could have been, but it did teach us one valuable lesson: cheap price is not the same as good value, and I am beginning to learn the value of value in saving me a lot of aggravation.
Mid January, 2010
One of the drawbacks of seeing the world is that you have to find somewhere to sleep whilst doing it. Travelling to different places is great, but each time we are faced with the same hassle of finding accommodation once we arrive in a new town. As we are on a bit of a budget, we have been trying to keep the costs down as much as possible, but standards and prices vary so much more from place to place in India that paying roughly the same in each location, as we did in Sri Lanka, has proved much more difficult.
There are also the delights of the accommodation itself. A prime example of a worst-case-scenario room was our hotel in Kodaikanal, a small town up in the mountains of Tamil Nadu. At first glance it appeared acceptable; if a little dingy, the room had all the requisite furniture at a reasonably cheap price, so crumbling concrete and peeling paintwork didn’t seem too much of a problem. We were so tired after a rather hair-raising bus journey up the mountain that we were less thorough in our room inspection than usual. It was only once we had checked in and paid the hefty two night deposit they that the flaws started to make themselves apparent. The room key was in the door, but it took five minutes of wrestling with the handle to actually get the thing to lock. Once we had set
our bags down, I realised that there was an underlying odour of wet dog, possibly from the slightly damp blankets. When I actually threw back the sheets on the bed, I found what looked like dried grain of rice, as if someone had decided to eat their dinner under the covers. The bathroom was even more of a disaster. When flushed, the toilet merely dribbled, whereas the sink had a tendency to flood the whole room. I discovered that shower tap had apparently been welded shut and I was expected to wash from a single tap at hip height and a miniscule bucket. Then there wasn’t actually a light that worked in there, so after dusk I had to perform my ablutions in the dark. Thoroughly disgruntled, I tried to sleep in the mangy sheets, only to find that a pack of mangy dogs had decided to take up residence right outside our window and howled throughout the night.Now, those of you who know me well will be aware that I am usually quite a mild-mannered person. I don’t tend to easily get in a temper or relish confrontation; in short, I am not prone to diva-esque tendencies, particularly in business-like situations. However, after a less-than-restful night in a scummy room with, I was less than happy. To put it bluntly, I was in possibly one of the worst moods of my life. Very soon after sunrise, I declared there was no way we were spending a minute longer than necessary in that place and headed out in search of alternative accommodation. It was one of those days where I was just destined to be disappointed in every way: the café we wanted to breakfast in was closed; I desperately needed a big mug of tea and instead got a thimbleful of overly sugared brown liquid; we’d planned on hiking (that was the whole reason for visiting Kodaikanal) but it was pouring with rain. Upon finding another (slightly more expensive but much, much nicer hotel), we returned to do battle with the “management” ( for “management” read “sulky hotel skivvy who was too uninterested to do anything other than feign a sudden loss of English language skills”). This provided me with the opportunity to give full vent to my feelings, taking full advantage of my experiences of the most haughty and demanding Big Sky guests. I may have only got a portion of our deposit back, but boy did it make me feel better!
In an effort to salvage the visit and retain at least some fondness for the town, the next day I dragged Paul down to the lake for a to rent a pedalo, which is apparently “the thi
ng” to do if you’re a couple in Kodaikanal. He wasn’t quite as impressed by the cheesiness of this as I was, but at least my customary enthusiasm for even the most ridiculous things was returning (although I was very disappointed that we couldn’t get a swan boat and had to make do with Mickey Mouse). And when it rained on us again, I was relieved that we had a room with a hot shower to return to.Needless to say, our trip to the beautiful hill country of Kodaikanal was not as wonderful as it could have been, but it did teach us one valuable lesson: cheap price is not the same as good value, and I am beginning to learn the value of value in saving me a lot of aggravation.
No comments:
Post a Comment