To Varanasi and Luxury! July 3, 2010
Posted by admin in : India , 1 comment so farLanding on in our 2-tiered AC cabin because every other class was full, we were happy as we had previously decided to try every class in order to compare and find out what the differences were. Thus the relatively expensive Rs1950 (30 pounds for both) was a must and we didn’t feel bad. Feeling good about saving Rs700 on avoiding a hotel in Agra, we decided to treat ourselves to a spot of luxury when we reached Varanasi. Checking out a few Lonely Planet options we saw that there was a hotel called ‘Hotel Surya’, which had a good restaurant and pool for just Rs800 (12 pounds) for the room per night.
Both of these experiences fit into the upper middle class style that was also facing us on the train and so it all made sense… unfortunately for the train ride the people opposite us were the worst we have had to share a space with for over 8 hours. The middle classes in mid/north India are all so aloof and value themselves so much that they are rude and really selfish. They were ready to sleep at 9:30 and turned the only light off despite the fact they knew we were eating and reading. On the light goes…. you can already see what was bound to happen, but the tutting and childish game of turning the light off every 5 minutes was wearing especially considering the “two fat ladies” were just drinking coke and eating crisps and making the most (impressive in some circles) disgusting burping that made me feel ill. What was interesting though was that in sleeper class we have always been faced with a dominant male character who is very much the head of the household. The man in this situation just sat back and said nothing while sharp words were being exchanged and ignored literally everyone all night. I suspect this relates to other middle class people I have seen and met. The women are subservient to the man of the house, but not in the middle class.
I have to also emphasis what we suspected on previous train journeys. AC cabins disconnect you from the country and passing land. For us that is not ideal at all. It is sterile. You are given blankets and a towel for the shower, but really, where is the fun in all that!?
Being disconnected from the outside for 10 hours and eventually being woken up by vile scoffing noises we neared Varanasi. Having picked up on the fact that more expensive hotels in major cities will pick you up for free, we gave them a call to arrange in order to avoid the hectic onslaught of touts and rickshaw drivers. We were whisked away in a jeep in sweltering 46C heat sticking to your T-shirt within 5 minutes. When we arrived at Surya this was a moot point. A really good looking hotel, which would cost at least 75- 100 pounds per night, we realised we had made a good choice. First one in the pool was a loser and after that we ended up expending our stay by “just one more day” for 3 days. The good thing was that if we just stayed here in the pool and spent the cash on accommodation we were still within our 8 pound a day budget! Even more reason not to leave- sweet! To be honest we did well to avoid the spa treatments and get carried away. All we needed was a pool to jump in when the heat became too much and relax.
This was clearly disconnected from Varanasi. We were next to the Radission so the area was fairly posh (as it gets). Again we inadvertently ‘met’ a middle class family and I hate to say that it makes eating hard, but it does. They are very loud people and so ‘having a quiet meal’ is hard. Either way I had the first meat dish since Aurangabad- a mutton curry- which was good and was cooked through (I chose Mutton as it needs to be cooked for a long time and should therefore avoid the undercooked chicken issue experienced last time). The Indian gravy tastes so much better with a meat that needs slow cooking, the flavour develops. Laura craved some western food and so had moussaka. This panned out, but is a risky game in India- western food is generally terrible, and something I avoid generally as it is generally either bad quality or small in size. This was the only meal we had in the hotel restaurant due to cost. The remaining nights we ate street food. We found a great stall dishing out a mash up of all the food he had. Pani is a hollow crispy semolina shell, usually filled with spicy liquid (Puri) and coriander. Yet this guy mixed it with fried potato with tamarind and beans. It tasted so much like BBQ beans that considering the stuff this guy was using was quite different was really amazing. Culinary creativity on the streets!
We met another traveling couple who reconfirmed the benefits of working and traveling. Being a lumber jack in Canada or picking berries for 20USd per hour? Maybe a hostel worker in Australia? All seem doable to earn enough and carry on traveling. Forever maybe? Ah day dreaming in the sun, but definitely worth thinking about….
Working North via Jalgaon June 28, 2010
Posted by admin in : India , add a commentThis is a grubby little town, similar to Aurangabad. It is dusty hot, essentially “Arid” all over. That is fine though as we only have one night here before continuing our journey up to Agra.
Despite the general grime of the town, due to its position on the railway line it has become a hub market town and is on the silk route north. There are tailors abound and actually on organised ’shopping street’ that is in marked contrast to the rest of the place. Suits, shirts and Salwar Kameez’s (ladies trouser and long dress and scalf combo) were the order of the day, but we only perused the Salwar’s for Laura, as I am only trying to reduce what I am carrying and not gain more stuff, that tends to accumulate over time by default. My 4 items of clothing are also holding firm and my washing routine including Rs1 washing powder sachet can wash 3 items with no problem and is just enough to keep me fresh!
After walking along and spying some material that would suit Laura over the street, through my broken Hindi, sign language and persistence pointed us towards a market where we could turn the it into a Salwaar. Using the vague directions we found a man with a sewing machine, who quoted us double to what we were told, but as we had 5 hours left in the place figured that was fine as long as he produced it in time.
As a small town the people here stare at you a lot more, especially Laura and don’t feel at all bad at stopping in the street to just gawk at you. So it was not a surprise that there was a gathering of heads facing us and watching us and the situation unfold. We thought nothing of it. That was until we came to do the measurements and failed to consider the social complexities we were dealing with. A lady needs a lady tailor on the street, because of the need of touching the lady. As a result we were being pointed to a ladies tailor further down into the market, but due to the Indian people’s permanent “yes of course as long as you are giving me money attitude” mentioned nothing of it. People all around found this very amusing indeed.
The Hotel Plaza was the only real saving grace of the place for us, as the staff were interesting to talk to and very helpful indeed, which we are finding to be very rare traits of Indian people without an anterior motive. This was a Lonely Planet recommendation due to its cleanliness, but we are finding more and more that we don’t agree with most of the opinions given and so are using it less and less as a decision making tool of any kind- a good thing. The drawback we felt of the place was that it only let Westerners stay there and so as a “Our Pick” have concluded that the Lonely Planet is keen to keep everyone well within the ‘path well trodden’ and that we try to avoid.
The protectionist nature of Hotel Plaza was somewhat justified however, as reading on the steps of the hotel you would attract a group of people who would just stand and stare at you. Apparently this is because most of the people walking by have just come from the train station and are country people who rarely see Westerners. Either way it is a pain having your reading and Chai efforts continually interrupted by people asking the same boring, generic questions;
“Hello, where you from?”
“Ah England”
“What your name?”
“and Madam?”
“Ok”
“My name x……”
Then queue a silence and the guy (always, as women will never approach and talk they just look at you like you are wearing pants on your head with war paint on or something else massively inappropriate) will then just stand and look at us or ask some random question like;
“What Hotel Management like in UK?” (sic to this and everything above in speech brackets!)
As a commuter town it is a strange situation to be looking out and seeing a constant stream of people walking by in uniform spacing. I counted 27 people per 20 seconds, which usefully I thought meant that to see the whole 1.09 billion people in India at this rate would take 25.58574 years. Hmmmn, anyway, you do have time to think about this kind of core issue when traveling and give yourself space!
After a while you start to get used to the gormless comments and ignoring people is now a lot easier, although I’d rather say after the introductory comments “I’m sorry gumby you faded out there… what was that you fancy my girlfriend do ya- well gutted. Bye!”
So next day I asked the Hotel Manager.
“I have a question for you… why do the Indian people stare at us so much?”, I inquire.
“Well… let me tell you something and what I think and I’ll be frank. They look at Madam. Now, I know you people. I have been here 20 years and know white skin and how you are. But these people have not, they only know this area. In your culture you have lots of freedoms; sex before marriage, but here sex only after marriage and young people are very frustrated. Some people are only married at 28 or more, so from 16 – 28 they are frustrated.
If a lady is standing outside the front here smoking then I advise her to come inside, otherwise people will stop and stare. These people, especially the uneducated think the girl is a hippy and easy if she smokes. There was a problem in the 70’s when all the hippies came to India. They smoked drugs, sunbathed and walked around naked. So people now often think white people are all hippies- free and easy, so they might have a chance (with a lady). The trouble is the more they stare the more their mind is working and this can lead to trouble. People in India are good people, they care about their local community, most people are scared about what people think of them. If madam was to start to shout, people would go away quickly, as they care about what their community think.”
“Ok, so how can I tell people in Hindi to have respect?”
“Tamiez Rakier” (Phonetic spelling only!)
So the next day glad to be leaving we arrived at the station, but no train on screen. Laura panics.. is this the right station, have we missed it, is this the right date etc…. Turns out the train is 16hrs late! Damn, ok back to Plaza, who still had our room in the same condition. Right…. we deserve a beer!
Recommended the Bombay Hotel halfway down the 2 minute walk between the hotel and station we enter. Men… everywhere. Hmmmn that generally means a bar in the traditional sense of a male only drinking hole, oh well it was Laura’s idea (as I still had a recovering stomach), we are up for it anyway, let’s go… We were ushered into the back room. One loud man with a table of 3 quiet goons insisted on ‘making friends’ and especially picked up on Laura’s order of a large beer, the same as mine. “You know… this is bad, no no, women should not drink” the man directs at me. Again it is clear this is going to be a difference of woman’s place in society and this also means that the women are not spoken to but the men have ‘issues’ directed at them.
After forcibly discussing some of the merits of the difference in culture, India’s beauty and the usual topics of our status in society I was told, “Hey, have some of this (whiskey) in your beer, it is really good”. Well, obviously I am not stupid enough to think this was done, but after 5 minutes of continual harassment I give in and think go on then I’ve had worse and if it feeds your small ego then great. After a half shot is added and I drink it laughter erupts and the whole place thinks this is hilarious.
“Good?” the man asks sarcastically.
“Fine” I retort “is that what your are drinking?”
“No I don’t drink that”
“You should try it, it is really good. Here have some beer in your whiskey and lemonade”.
“No” the guy insists in the same manner as I was in 10 minutes ago.
“Go on…”, I say pouring it in anyway.
Unhappy about the turn in the situation and the establishment’s eyes fixed on what is happening. So the guy tries it and winces, everyone laughs and settles down.
“Have a bottle of rum with me”, the man says next. Oh bloody hell my acceptance and diffusion didn’t really work, but in retrospect it was unlikely to, but with a love of situational experimentation it was worth a go. I am not up for a bottle of rum really due to my stomach, but can always have a few rum and coke’s and the 180ml bottles are not heavy duty. The guy is slurring from one, so let’s match him and see how things pan out…
“Ok, if you are buying”, I say
“OF COURSE!”, he replies
Using the guys directions on how I should pour a rum and coke (I usually have it two thirds coke and a third rum, if not half half, so the measures I am given are fine with me.
“Strong?”, he asks
“Sure”, I reply
He is finally happy about getting the English guy drunk, but when in reality I could drink another. Finally after we finish the bottle the guy is now looking worse for wear. He staggers to the toilet and I suspect a little too long. After coming back he tells us we have to go, which I found hilarious. He really does think he is the man. Well turns out he was the mayor of Jalgaon’s husband and the 3 other guys really were his goons. No wonder that they were not taking part in any banter aimed at us or at them. We walk back to the hotel drained from the intensity of the situation and bellowing of the guys loud mouth and return to the hotel. After mentioning the situation to the manager he tells us that the local government are massively corrupt (more than usual in India) and really arrogant, power hungry people with low moral value. So our conclusions were pretty spot on then.
The next day it was time to leave again. We arrive at the station and waited for an hour on the platform. Having another look the train had become another 6 hours late. A wait on the platform then? No, let’s go to lunch in the same place! Returning to the station again the train was another 2 hours late, but surprisingly we both were taking this in our stride and made me realise that we were now accustomed to this kind of thing and ‘Indianised’ in the lack of information, certainty of anyone in the country about anything, events that are possible and the rest. We were slowly seeing what the real India is like.
After a 24 hour delay we finally boarded our sleeper cabin, where we found a lovely Indian family going on holiday up north to see family. They moved about to accommodate us and we dug in for the night. Sleeper trains really are great. You are sweaty, it is hot and noisy. Chai walla’s (“tea men”) shouting till late, but everything has an amazing charm that I will cherish as a key part of traveling in India. The windows are open so you can see the country flow past, at night the breeze makes it warm enough to not need anything to sleep with, but not too warm. The price is half of any AC train and people bring their own food because they are poorer than those traveling in AC class. Throughout the night I dozed, woke up every few hours, got off the train and had a brief look around, bought some chai and then got back on the train before reading some more of “The Darma Buns” book by Jack Kerouac (perfect for such an occasion) and then fell asleep again.
Waking up in the morning with the world still whizzing by is another moment that makes you smile. The landscape transformed. Now there were hills of dusty rock formations, wide gorges and arid landscape. We had hit the Rajastani desert. Another 6 hours of training through an increasingly dry land we arrived in Agra, 26 hours late.
From the farm back to reality and onto Auragabad June 6, 2010
Posted by admin in : India , 1 comment so farFarm back to reality
Following a week at the Mango farm we need to get back to Pune to catch our train to Aurangabad which leaves early in the morning of 28th May. Umesh collects us midday and invites us to stay at his for the night. He is such a great host, we a balled over with his generosity. With the promise of chicken and beer, great company plus an A/C room it all seems too good to be true!
For dinner, Al and Umesh go ‘shopping’ for the chicken at a chicken farm nearby. They select the plump bird of their fancy and from what I heard killed and feathered it in a pretty inhumane way which consisted of chucking it into a machine that shook it around. I would just like to say at this point that I said before I leave that I would be veggie whilst in India. After a week of eating 2 meals a day (both consisted of Roti, rice and predominantly ocra) made by the local villager; so I was gagging for some protein. No more ocra…please! I think in any other situation I would have thought twice about aborting my vegetarianism. The other point on this is that everyone tends to be vegetarian and only eats meat at home, or where they are absolutely certain on the methods of how the meat is being cooked and where it came from. Also, if the host eats meat, so do I.
Al, being interested in collecting recipes, was in heaven as Umesh teaches him how to cook the dish. Also we discover that ‘masala’ actually just means spices. There was I thinking it was a particular type of dish…King prawn Masala for example.
Once the food was prepared, we tucked into several different appetizers and a few bottles London Pilsners. Umesh also got some chicken tandori take-away to have as a snack with the beer. It was so delicious- best tandori I think I have had, although I was starving so I think most things tasted particularly good!
After many hours of chatting, Umesh suggests eat. Hehe. I was ready for bed! I had forgotten that we hadn’t even had the main course yet. The chicken stock he had made was heavenly and the chicken killed for the occasion was certainly cooked to perfection. With time having been so warped, I glanced at my watch and noticed the date was wrong on it. When I commented on this, it transpired that Al and I were both a day out of keel and actually our train was not due to depart the following morning, it was due the day after that! Oops. Umesh was more than happy to put up with us for another day though (thank goodness), so this meant we had an unexpected day in Pune to do some touristy stuff. Fantastic!
As highly recommended for our unexpected extra day in Pune, we headed towards the Patalshvara Cave Temple with the intention of having an explore around this side of town. Possibly venturing into the Raja Dinkar Kelkar Museum.. We hopped into an autorikshaw who took us at speed down the highway to J.M Road.
The Patalshvara Cave Temple is cut into the rock, it’s small and unfinished but dates back to the 8th century. Such an amazingly calm, tranquil and shady place. It was so nice to sit there and chill. A guy near us was reading the paper in the temple, which made me wonder why we don’t use our churches as a place to be calm in our lunch breaks back in the Uk?! I don’t think you have to be religious to realize the potential of such places. As long as respect is made to those who are around you.
Next door to the Patalshvara Cave Temple, was the more recent Jangali Maharaj Temple. This seems much busier with people dropping in for a quick payer as well as ladies sitting for hours chatting quietly. We hung out in the temples for a good hour and be time I left, back onto the very busy J.M road I felt peaceful and full of energy for the rest of our day.
One thing I have noticed about Pune is that it is a lot cleaner than Mumbai. The people seem more cosmopolitan too. J.M Road definitely reflected these thoughts. The street, although with the usual hectic vibe and zillions of rickshaws was broad with many up market shops and cafes. Al noticed a KFC joint that he could not resist trying out. For those who don’t know: Al loves fried chicken and has tried KFC in Poland, Bankok, Vietnam and other places around the world and has noticed their menu varies depending on where he is. Indian KFC has a ‘masala’ topping on it – very nice- tasted like spicey tomato flavour.
For the rest of the afternoon we wondered around and soaked up the people, place, shops, traffic, smells, sounds, tastes, etc. I tried my first fresh cocnut- which I have always wanted to do. Very tasty milk, but I much prefer the flesh to be hard. With the coconut being so fresh is was a bit of a slimy texture of which I wasn’t too keen.
We had intended on walking towards the museum, but discovered that Lonely Planet was out of date and it had moved a few months back. Nevertheless, we enjoyed walking all the way down J.M Road (very long). Near the end we came across what seemed to be the wedding district. Every shop was either silk, clothing or gold shops. I was pretty cool to see all the dowry gold on show.
That evening we hang out with Yash (Umesh’s daughter). We go and eat street food with her. Her favourite is pane puri, so of course that is on the menu. Along with a few other pulse dishes that are bloomin spicey (but tasty).
Finally, the 28th arrives and we jump into a rickshaw to get to Pune rail Station. My gut is not happy and I think that may 3 different pulse dishes from the street vendors was a little optimistic. Hey ho, it is bearable, just a bit grumbly.
Our train departs at 8:45 sharp and isn’t overly busy which is great. We opted for AC this time, as the journey will take 9 hours through the heat of the day. It is comfortable, if not a little cold. A very sick man (we think diabetic) was in one of our bunks, so we willingly use the top bunks instead. Also, there is a bunk on the other side of the aisle which has a window next to it. So we were more than happy. I spent the whole journey reading about Indian history and looking out the window. The view for much of the time was of the Deccan Plateau…VERY arid. I could see where water would normally gush was completely dried up. Bring on the monsoon- the villages need it badly.
Arriving at Aurangabad we are confronted with the most rickshaws I have seen so far! How on earth do the ALL make a living??- Al had pondered. We selected one who hadn’t bugged us and drove to our pre-booked hostel. Rs70 for a dorm room…can’t go wrong. Although, I don’t think I have ever stayed in such a scummy place before. I don’t think the floor has ever been cleaned in its whole existence! The toilets don’t flush and when I chucked a bucked of water down instead, I learn that the pipes have holes in them! Ergh. It is all good though, the girls dorm was completely empty- so just me in a big room to myself. Al’s dorm has one Chinese guy staying- and that is it! I guess most sensible travelers don’t come to Aurangabad when it is 42c. Or if they do, they get an AC room. The Chinese guy told Al that there are loads of mozzies, so we promptly get out mosquito nets up. Although my effort was a bit of a blond moment…I didn’t turn the fan off first and as I stood on the bed to hang it up the fan took a chunk of skin out of my finger, OUCH. Really clever Laura. It’s ok though- not much blood- just an achey bruised knuckle minus a bit of skin. Lucky really!
Sleeping in the hostel wasn’t too bad so we are going to base ourselves here for another night at least. Tonight we are meeting up with a business contact of Als, who is keen to tell us the best places to go. Of course in the next few days we will be visiting the Ajanta Caves- very excited about that. They are apparently very well preserved considering how old they are.
Today we are having our 1st Month travelling day. A day to recoupe, take stock, do laundery and have an explore around Aurangabad. First impressions though; Auragnabad is hot and dusty and the men seem a bit more sleezy here..
That’s all for now folks. Namaste.
Post written by Laura
Leaving Vaghator May 31, 2010
Posted by admin in : India , add a commentAfter a last day at Boomshanka, soaking up the relaxing vibes and trying to memorise the beautiful sunset, the next morning we embarked on getting out of Goa. Our aim is to go north which normally should be a simple task of catching a train from Margao. However, due to it being Indian holiday time plus the extreme heat of the south, it seems that the whole population of the south is also trying to travel north! We have already been told by a travel agent in Vagator that all trains going to cooler climates are booked up. It would have been tempting just to sit it out and hang out in Goa for longer, but with the season coming to an end all business are shutting up in preparation for the Monsoon. With this information in mind, we decide to go to the main Goan train station (Margoa) and see if we can get a tourist quota ticket as a last resort.
Getting to Margoa from Vagator entails two very sticky hot and squished public busses (changing at Mapusa and Panjim). This journey takes about an hour in total, but only costing Rs. 30 (50p) compared to Rs 900 (11 pounds) if we had opted for the taxi instead. So although not the most comfortable of journeys, the cost made it bearable.
Once in Margoa, we are confronted with more of the same news. There are no trains (even to Mumbai) until the 22nd June! We are not prepared to wait a month so we manage to book ourselves a sleeper bus to Pune that evening. Pune is just outside Mumbai and although it is not that far north, it is a start! Also, back in the Uk I made a contact in Pune over the internet who has offered us work helping him build a meditation centre and help on his farm so we decide that Pune is the best option for the time being.
The sleeper bus is like nothing I had been on before. It has double bunk beds on either side of the aisle with A/C. It looks comfortable and seeing as it is an 11hour night couch I was happy to get my head down asap. The only problem is there were no toilets so I was consciously not drinking too much water with the fear that my grape bladder will haunt me! We do have a stop enroute and surprisingly the service station toilets aren’t too gory.
Our route from Goa to Pune was through the Konkan Hills; so very very bendy roads plus a manic bus driver, I was left feeling like I was on a small ship and felt I had to compensate my sleeping position everytime we went around a bend. Despite this, I must have managed to sleep as the next thing I knew Al and I were literally turfed out onto the streets of Pune at 6am. I was rolling my sleeping bag up on the side of the road feeling rather dehydrated and groggy. Within seconds we were surrounded by autorickshaws asking us were we wanted to go. The truth is we had no idea…
Madness in Mumbai May 11, 2010
Posted by admin in : India , add a commentWell after a bit of an unexpected delay, to say the least, we finally made it on the plane. Delivered in Camper Van style thanks to Anne and Dave.
Air India has upped its game since I last flew with them. Curtains replaced with plastic shutters, an entertainment unit in front of you with gaming, films, music library etc, which would have been great but didn’t work. I think this was to be another taste of what travelling would entail before we arrived…
Eventually landed in Mumbai airport at 1am, 1:45 minutes delayed circling Mumbai. Stepping out of the airport the heat was not as bad as we expected and I think this was due to our built up expectations rather than the weather, although many people were saying that the summer was hotter this year than normal. It seemed unreal that we had finally made it and were now in a small taxi in India, making the same journey we had watched on television so many times in the past. I think it was this that made seeing people sleeping by the side of the road in the dust and rubbish easier, I had been desensitised. That said, you could see the community structure that had developed by the side of the roads. There was order and clear divisions, working next to cooking and so ultimately, although people were sleeping on the street there was definately something to live for and a means of subsistence for these people, unlike so many other parts of the world. The trouble I would think would be in the monsoon season. I also knew that living next to the most intense smell of dead fish would be quite tough- the curry smells could no way overpower the smell of decomposing fish baking in the heat.
Driving past Chattripati Shivaji train station we were close, but like most taxi drivers, we have since learnt, ours was illiterate and so couldn’t understand the map, no knew of the place we wanted. After 25 minutes driving around aimlessly watching the Indian drunkards swaying down the road with typically bright coloured clothes and sequin combo, we finally managed to find some other taxi drivers who could help direct us and finally made it to our Air Conditioned room. Mumbai I concluded was expensive as this place looked and cost the same as a Travel Lodge, yet was not as ‘polished’. Each floor did have a porter however, which you certainly wouldn’t have in the UK. Despite AC the room was hot, we were knackered and buzzing at the same time. It was a strange feeling… still not being excited as such, but tired mentally and physically and adrenaline charged from the heat plus our first sights and smells of India.
Waking up fresh on our first day in India we finally get a sense of what things will be like here. We step out of the room to go to the toilet and the heat is really on. It is only 10:30 and the sweat begins- non-stop. We chose the Welcome Hotel for 2 nights to get acclimatised to the heat and to have a fairly clean stay before we progress into more local territory. Let’s calling it breaking us in easily.
We are determined on this trip to really get a sense of what people do and how they live in different countries. This means the different habits, customs, ways of doing things. We want to adopt all of this and any others that I have just missed. I am already prepared for a bucket toilet, but not actually in the shower. That is multitaking to a level that I didn’t think the Indians were up for. The first time you use your hand instead of toilet roll is a very weird experience and made me contort my face, but ultimately this is the way it is. Wipe with the left and eat with the right. I was prepared and now having to live it. Our first breakfast was perhaps predictably a curry. Veg curry with spicey chilli and sping onion doughnuts, sweet and milky coffee/ tea and a yellow slop of what I only imagine at this point was coconut with mild spice and sugar. This was a lot more hard work to eat than I anticipated and suddenly wondered if I was cut out to eat as the locals do, like I predict.
Gazing out of the window, taking our time before the onslaught of the mid Indian summer we can see the fort of Mumbai, now converted to government offices and a post office. Vans stop and crows fly in the back in number to forage for food. We note the India fashion for a “red rinse” instead of what we think is the comparative of a blue rinse in the UK. Rickshaws pulling goods by hand compete with the taxis, buses and motorbikes for road space. It really is busy here. I would say that it is not as hectic as I thought it would be as there is a level of order that I failed to see in Vietnam, yet there are people, more people and then more people chucked on top, they come from everywhere and never stop coming what ever time of day or night. This for me is my first definition of Mumbai.
We left our hotel to have a look round and it was literally about 5 minutes when adventure kicked in. We stumbled across a group of people some armed with fans. It was a film shoot. Instantly I was figuring out how to get involved. We loitered with intent and soon after I was drifting closer and closer somneone came over and asked us what we wanted. We were eventually led to the director’s trailer discussing the production that was set in London in the winter. We had just left that and here we were in the Indian heat. Worlds apart. We exchanged details so as to try and arrange a part in a future production, but will see.
As the Indian trains are so busy, most get full days, if not weeks in advance. After watching “Indian Railway Journeys” we knew what to exp[ect of Mumbai’s main train station. It is so bizaar watching this stuff and then living it not shortly after. What I realise is that experience is never in the grand theme or the context, but in the detail. It is about the change of smells as you walk along, the glances you receive, the texture of the melting roads, the intense dustiness of the air. This reinforces the idea of getting involved at a local level…. it will help us access these details. The train station itself was as busy as expected and in the first attempt at finding information learnt to ensure you place in the ‘queue’. It turns out that trains all have a tourist quota of seats in each class. This is 10%. Goa was booked up for all classes except standard sleeper in 2 days we were due to leave. We were aiming to start with AC, but with no choice booked an 11 hour train journey South with no AC for 4 Pounds.
With our only real admin to do we headed across the city to see what was going on. Cricket it turns out mostly. Everywhere. Kids playing on the streets, the main park area completely taken over by the weekend matches, the sounds of screams of support ring in the air. We walked around Mumbai for around 6 hours, visited the local art gallery and was really impressed at the conceptual exhibition that was on at the time and how it was executed. Laura bought herself a Salwar Kameez, a full traditional Indian outfit with the trousers, long top and scarf. Now it is my turn. I see a stall that is selling some kind of consumable, with a guy sat outside who looks as though he is stripping bamboo and then they are crushing it. Turns out this is actually sugar cane and street sellers sell it as a natural cola I guess. Very tasty though and gave us the energy to continue. After I note the dirty water that the glasses are being cleaned with, wonder how we will feel soon, but then having already wiped tap water around my mouth wonder how I will feel this evening anyway. After the machine is open for the guy to show me how it works we also reaslise that is uses ice. Ooops…. 3 rules broken in the first day. Making our way to the black sea to the South of our location we take in some of the external architecture, which is British mixed with shanty/recycled odds and ends to make roadside shacks and then some 80’s looking buildings in the form of skyscrapers. That said many new developments were being built, as we noticed on our way into the city and in a city this vast I am sure this area is perhaps not representative.
With legs about to collapse we sit for our first meal where I decide to break another rule of no meat and go for the Tandoori chicken wings. Predictable? Yes! Tasty? Yes! Our first beer goes straight to my head with dehydration, despite the 5 litres of water we have drunk. This adds up to be an expensive habit… although a necessary one. Beer is less appealing as it is the same price of a main meal (about 1.20) so reducing this expense will be key, depite perhaps difficult.
The next day we set off the Chowpatty beach and when we confirm what the guide book says (the water is highly toxic and very VERY dirty) decide to head for the hills instead to find a Jain temple (Jain is a religion that was derived from Hinduism). Another burning day and so we walk up the hill sweat ahoy. This area is where all the Indian billionnaires live. Did you know there is more millionnaires in India than anywhere else in the world? I have not verified this, but would not be surprised given some of the places we saw. This really highlights the difference in Mumbai’s population and how our idea of cleanliness is so different. Even the middle/ upper classes it seems to me are not scared of street dirt or things falling apart. The temple is beautiful and scerene. We watch the devotees sing and read prayers, watch cleansing rituals before we head out again to an area that is supposed to be in the middle of a load of buildings and called a “tank”. This turns out to be a kind of lido where people come and hangout, we have a brief dip with the people and other animals before heading back sweltering and tired. We slept in the beach in the shade with other couples on ‘courting beach’, grab an expensive coffee to wake up and then decide to try and catch a bus back to save money. The first attempt at random bus catching didn’t pan out so well unsurprisingly as it was going the wrong way. After getting some help from the locals we jumped off that bus moving at speed and caught the next. Buses in Mumbai have TVs and music that is reminicent of the UK, the buses themselves certainly were not however. It strikes me that despite being diry India has a high level of recycling going on and it is perhaps this fact that makes people litter- someone else will make use of it and to be fair they probably will, as some recycling companies in the slums made a fair amount of money, relative to their caste. With just a few hours to go until our train at 11:00pm we grab a baji snack and lots of bananas/ water for the journey before getting ready to mission it to Goa.
Check out the pictures here
