India 2007

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.

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.