I have noticed that a lot of Indian people talk to each other using English. I particularly noticed this in Mumbai, and later realised that in Mumbai there are a lot of different cultures of India and English may be their only common language.

The family I met on the train to Goa were speaking English with each other when they first got onto the train. When chatting with them they revealed that they family are originally from Gujarat, which is their first language, but they also speak Hindi and English.

Whilst walking on Elephanta island I noticed an India couple with 2 small children. They all spoke in English. The parents spoke English with a Indian accent, but the children were almost accent free. I assume that the parents have raised their children speaking both Hindi and English. It think is a very good thing to do. Children speaking fluent English will have a wealth of options available to them as they grow older.

Of course the only common language in India is English. Hindi, Tamil and Urdu and very different languages. When people from the north and extreme south of India met, English is the only common language they have.

I sleep well on the charging train. We’ve covered a lot of ground, the train always running at a fast pace. My cabin mates all sleep in, which means I have to stay in bed, which is fine. They all work within their family business, manufacturing paper tube products, like those found in toilet rolls. They work everyday, and long hours I suspect. This is the first day of their holiday, and If I were them I would stay in bed until noon.

It’s cold in the cabin, the AC is very effective. I wander outside the cabin and find the side doors open. This allows the warm air to rush in. I hang my head out of the door, whilst maintaining a firm grip. It’s a great sensation and a must do experience in India.

I spend at least an hour in the doorway, taking pictures, and watching the beautiful tropical landscape of palm trees, rice paddies and small farms roll by. The train occasionally stops at small stations. At one friendly station friendly faces meet me from another train.

I have chai and samoasa for breakfast 🙂

The train rolls in at around 23:20. It’s just about empty which surprised me. My berth is amongst an Indian family of 5. This is another family who regularly speak English to each other. Later, after chatting with them, they reveal they speak a few different languages.

They are a lovely family and we spend hours chatting. We talk about India, Europe, work and Goa. They take their holidays in Goa every year. They are passionate about Bombay, as they called it. One of the boys tells me an estimated 35,000 people enter Bombay everyday, and few leave. He also mentions that many wealthy Bombay citizens who drive Mercedes cars live in the slums. He says this is for cheap rent and to avoid paying government taxes.

India is a complicated country that often only reveals itself when I talk with its people. I certainly don’t claim to understand it yet. But I don’t think I ever will.

The family bless themselves several times during the evening. When we first pulled away the mother gave everyone a black bindi high on the forehead. I guess this is to ensure safe travel, but I don’t ask.

They are very interested when I talk of Christianity and its waning in many countries in Western Europe. I mention that I’m not really a Christian; in that I don’t pray or attend church, but I do enjoy the holidays. They ask which is my religion, as if it wasn’t an option to not have one.

They are great people and perfect train companions.

Information: The Konkan Kanya Express travels between Mumbai and Margao (Madgaon) station in Goa. The train leaves Mumbai CST station daily at 22:50 and takes 12 hours. It’s often late. 3AC tickets cost INR800, INR1200 at Christmas time.

I’m sitting at the end of the outside platforms at CST, Mumbai, waiting for the overnight express train to Goa. It’s scheduled to leave at 22:50. The information board tells me it will now depart at 00:20. Time to sit, wait and write.

Every year hundreds of visitors to India spend the Christmas and New Year period around the sun drenched and beautiful beaches of Goa in southern India. This former Portuguese enclave has a more relaxed attitude that the rest of India. Over the last 20 years a party and general traveler scene developed around the beaches of Goa. The pinnacle for these travelers is the 3 week period around Christmas and new year.

The hundreds, possible thousands, of visitors will relax, drink, smoke and dance at the all night parties. Prices, as well as visitor numbers, explode during the holiday period. Young, and old, visitors from Europe, Israel, USA, Australia and elsewhere fill every possible bed in India’s smallest (and wealthiest) state.

I had no idea it was such an event. During my 6 week visit to India I thought it would be nice to spend the last few weeks by the beach, especially as it will be Christmas time, and Goa is mainly Christian.

It wasn’t until I was in India that I realised it was such a pilgrimage for backpackers and travelers. This means I will find it harder to find accommodation, but it should be a fun time. I can always head south to Patnem beach, the most southerly and one of the quietest beaches, if it gets too much.

The train still hasn’t arrived. My adventure to Goa started yesterday, with the hassle of buying a train ticket. On my way here today, after agreeing a price with the taxi driver, he tries to avoid giving me my change. When I ask he says he doesn’t have any. Doesn’t have any change? Taxi drivers rely on having change, it is their currency. I find the right money and pay him, without giving my normal thank you. The hassle of India have got to me a little over the last few days. But don’t get me wrong. A couple of hassles amongst endless delights is fine by me.

So, I’m waiting for the train, at the platform which strangely smells of fish. I guess it hasn’t rained in a while. I’ve been bitten by mosquitoes, and just saw a mouse crawling on someones bag. I hope Goa is as good as I hope.

As Chowpatty is just across the way I head over and grab a drink. I take a few photos and enjoy the setting sun.

I walk down Marine Drive and get slightly lost making my way back to Colaba. I try a few different places and have some good Indian food and chai. Back to the hotel to grab my bag, and then off to the railway station for the train to Goa.