India

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.

Ok, I actually returned to India, after a ferry ride, but I am still making the claim 🙂

I head towards Kala Ghoda, but the principle museum I wanted to visit is closed on Mondays, so maybe tomorrow. I head north and wander around the older streets of Mumbai. These are where the businesses settle. The businesses are grouped by their services, as in many Asian cities. I pass lots of computer service shops, but none sell computers. If I can find a cheap and compact computer I will buy one. The computer shops slowly change into printers and stationers.

I ask at one about business cards, which I need to help get reductions at hotels and other travel services. The price is INR225 for 100 cards, a bargain. I get shown to the back and sit down with a well dressed Indian guy. I write what I want, and he sets it out on his computer. The room is full of printers and young guys copying papers. After a few revisions and a cup of chai we start printing the cards. The card is cut by hand, and the end result is fairly good. Not what I would expect in the UK, but for £2.50 the service has been good.

I wander more around the streets, popping into a department store. The numerous staff are surprised to see me, so I send a few smiles. I find the computer section, but the prices are similar to what I would pay in the UK. Computer prices in the UK are at rock bottom at the moment, due to supply, demand and fierce competition between retailers. So no new computer now, maybe if I can find cheaper deals in Indonesia.

The streets of Mumbai are getting busier. I head over to the railway station, with it’s incredible buildings at the front, and it’s chaotic scenes at the back. I noticed a travel agent by the hotel, which I will try first for my ticket to Goa.

I walk south passing the incredible High Court and Bombay University buildings. The British certainly left an beautiful selection of Victorian buildings in Bombay. No doubt to assert who was in charge, and to demonstrate what could be achieved.

Across the road is the Oval Maiden, so I stop under a tree to watch several casual, but enthusiast games of cricket.

I head back to the hotel, and find that the travel agent doesn’t book train tickets. I head towards Chowpatty beach, hoping to buy a train ticket and see Gandi’s house before watching the day end on the beach.

At the train station I get directed to the ticket counter. A helpful tout is there to meet me, and I decide to make use of his services. He leads me outside to a travel agents, where I get my ticket for tomorrows overnight train to Goa. 4 Brits arrive just after me and it seems there are only 3 beds left on the train. My timing was good, although I could have stayed another day in Mumbai.

I head out for a drink, but the busy bars I saw earlier are even busier. The resturant where I stopped earlier has families, seated, waiting outside. This is a busy city. I am heading back to the hotel and decide to stop at the Iranian place I saw earlier. I’m not fealling very hungry, but have the house specialty kebab, which is good.

Whilst eating a German chap shares my table. At first he isn’t very chatty, but we soon get conversion started. He is German, is married to an Indian, is an art dealer, and lives and works between Goa and Germany.

He remarks that it is very warm for the time of year. He talks about Goa, and I ask many questions. He refers to Goa as a magical place several times, and I am so looking forward to spending some time there. It sounds exactly like the sort of place I am looking to spend some time. I sounds like a perfect place to spend a winter, although not this one as I have travel plans for Southeast Asia – but maybe next year, if I want to do a lot of writing.

He is interested in my trip from Nepal, especially about northern India, which he has not visited in his 15 years of living in India. We discuss the vast differences between the north and south.

It was great chatting to him – I never did get his name.

Note: Bombay is now called Mumbai

My flight (on which was served a good, gut busting curry, and satellite TV) lands in Mumbai. From the air it is easy to see that the city is a massive collection of prosperous city offices, high rise apartments and endless slums. The area around the airport is particularly littered with slums.

Once outside I feel the heat. At last some hot weather in India! Surprisingly it takes me a minute to get a taxi, but I wave off the AC taxis, and those without meters, and jump in a classic Mumbai yellow and black taxi. The first of my Mumbai experiences ticked off the list. We head across town, which is extensive. There and endless sites to take in, including dozens of cricket matches, a few temples and the wonderful looking Chowpatty beach.

I have opted for the Bentley Hotel in the Colaba traveler region. The amusing taxi driver doesn’t know the Bentley and asks around. Thankfully they have a room, albeit in a different building. The room is fair enough, more than I would like to pay (INR985), but is clean, has a shower and breakfast is included. Not too bad then.

The Colaba region is fantastic. A mixture of big stores, little stores, street vendors, cafes, and all the usual stuff. It’s a leafy area which so reminds me of European cities like Barcelona, Paris and Madrid.

After washing all of my clothes, which are filthy, and I figure will dry in this high heat, I head out for a walk. I walk up to the Gateway of India, which looks majestic, but I don’t get too close. I will save it for tomorrow. I take a lake along the riverside and head back to the main street.

I wander around and find the touts not too bad, so I take an interest in what is for sale. I noticed a guy with a nice Indian style top, and decide I would like one. I find a stall selling similar items and after bartering reasonable well I end up with 2 nice tops for (INR400). I pass a few cafes and decide to stop on the way back up for chai. I also notice several great looking European style bars, which are all full. Hopefully tomorrow will allow me a space. I stop at a book shop, and buy the Google Story and Che Gavara’s Motorcycle Diaries. Both books I want to read, and hopefully I will get into them more than my Stephen King novel.

I head back to the hotel, not before stopping for chai and samosas, at proper Indian prices, and start reading the Google book. Back at the hotel I wash the filthy clothes I am wearing, and write this sitting in my underwear, which reminds me of hot Ibiza nights with my mate Steve. It was so hot we used to sit on the balcony in our underwear – talking about girls, just so that you understand.