Hello all, it's been a while since I last picked up a pen, but our days have been packed since our arrival in Goa, from bed to pool, pool to bar, bar to beach to restaurant and then back to bed there has been little time for any other inactivity. It seems a lot longer than three weeks since our arrival in India and to be honest I did think we might be on the next flight home after Sarah's initial reaction to Mumbai. A little luxury in the Taj palace helped some, but things hit rock bottom in Aurangabad (contender for worst hotel in the world) and I was questioning the sanity of bringing a clean freak (four showers a day!) like Sarah to India. I think she has covered her own trauma well enough, so you can read Sar's account in the previous post. All I can say is thank god for the Lords central hotel in Matheran!
Since then, in fairness I've been doing most of the complaining, about our (Sar's) spending habits. In contrast, her nibs has been superb and much more relaxed about travelling, she even drove a moped today - 10 metres on a wobble .
Since then, in fairness I've been doing most of the complaining, about our (Sar's) spending habits. In contrast, her nibs has been superb and much more relaxed about travelling, she even drove a moped today - 10 metres on a wobble .
More of that story to come later, but first, well, I suppose I'd better pick up the pieces where Sar left us.
Matheran was,for me, where we began to enjoy being in India. We left the Lord's Central feeling re-energised and ready for the next leg of our trip, which was set to be a bit of a bumpy ride. From the hotel we each hired a rickshaw with three drivers for the journey down the mountain in the dark (We would've liked to have taken the minature train but it only operates in the dry season). I'm sure I saw a tiger in the woods on the way, which the men jokingly assured me was impossible as they had all been shot.
After almost an hour we reached a car park and jumped into a cab (Nissan vans seem to be the standard Indian taxi) and headed for Thane station 2 hours drive away, or so we thought.
In the cab we had our first experience of the state of India's National Highway. At points I truly couldn't tell if we were driving on a road or in the middle of a quarry. The Highway seems to be dominated by trucks. These Indian trucks are a curiousity. Painted a myriad of colours, they all share a patchwork of rust and some form of instruction on their rear end to sound your horn at any and every opportunity, which your average Indian driver does happily- 'Who needs mirrors when you have a horn?'
Matheran was,for me, where we began to enjoy being in India. We left the Lord's Central feeling re-energised and ready for the next leg of our trip, which was set to be a bit of a bumpy ride. From the hotel we each hired a rickshaw with three drivers for the journey down the mountain in the dark (We would've liked to have taken the minature train but it only operates in the dry season). I'm sure I saw a tiger in the woods on the way, which the men jokingly assured me was impossible as they had all been shot.
After almost an hour we reached a car park and jumped into a cab (Nissan vans seem to be the standard Indian taxi) and headed for Thane station 2 hours drive away, or so we thought.In the cab we had our first experience of the state of India's National Highway. At points I truly couldn't tell if we were driving on a road or in the middle of a quarry. The Highway seems to be dominated by trucks. These Indian trucks are a curiousity. Painted a myriad of colours, they all share a patchwork of rust and some form of instruction on their rear end to sound your horn at any and every opportunity, which your average Indian driver does happily- 'Who needs mirrors when you have a horn?'
After 2 hours of driving, and 2 hours of waiting in traffic-at one point a firework went off next to the car and I thought we were about to be firebombed- we eventually got to Thane station.
When compared to rickshaws and taxis, Indian trains are a great way to travel- except of course for the general stalls, more commonly known (for good reason) as cattle class, Where I'm sure even a sardine might feel a little cramped. Sar and I lasted around 45 minutes in these conditions and that was only by mistake. The thought of a 12 hour plus journey with my face stuck in a stranger's armpit makes me wonder how people don't lose the plot and jump off the train. who knows? maybe they do.
Luckily for us, we had the comparative luxury of a 2nd class AC cabin to rest our travel-weary heads. By now it was around midnight and we had planned to sleep through and arrive in Goa ready for the next day. Unfortunately, in the opposite bunks were a group of right-on, soap-dodging, would be hippies straight out of university. Who mistakenly thought they could play their newly purchased bongos - If you think my words are a little harsh you should have heard what Sarah wanted to put! Don't get me wrong, I regard myself as somewhat of a pacifist, but that does not give me the right to ramble absolute garbage all night whilst playing the bongos with less rhythm than David Brent. Still, I think I must have got my own back, as I'm pretty sure they didn't get a wink of sleep due to my snoring when i did finally drop off.
We arrived in Goa on the morning of the 2nd of October, which incidentally was the date of Mahatma Gandhi's birth and a National holiday / DRY day, i.e. no beer for me! The weather had decided to get in on the celebrations and absolutely chuck it down with the last of the monsoon rain. As a result we got soaked at Tivvim station whilst trying to sort a cab to our hotel in Arpora. Our first impressions of Goa would have to wait as we couldn't see more than six metres ahead in the downpour. The rain lasted out the weekend, so we enjoyed lazing in the room (twin beds again!) until monday morning when we had our first full day of sunshine. Our hotel in Arpora is great and we have sar's parent's friends, Sheelagh and Keith, to thank for sorting us out with a deal on the room. We are going to be based here for the next five or six weeks while we find our feet and explore Goa.
When compared to rickshaws and taxis, Indian trains are a great way to travel- except of course for the general stalls, more commonly known (for good reason) as cattle class, Where I'm sure even a sardine might feel a little cramped. Sar and I lasted around 45 minutes in these conditions and that was only by mistake. The thought of a 12 hour plus journey with my face stuck in a stranger's armpit makes me wonder how people don't lose the plot and jump off the train. who knows? maybe they do.
Luckily for us, we had the comparative luxury of a 2nd class AC cabin to rest our travel-weary heads. By now it was around midnight and we had planned to sleep through and arrive in Goa ready for the next day. Unfortunately, in the opposite bunks were a group of right-on, soap-dodging, would be hippies straight out of university. Who mistakenly thought they could play their newly purchased bongos - If you think my words are a little harsh you should have heard what Sarah wanted to put! Don't get me wrong, I regard myself as somewhat of a pacifist, but that does not give me the right to ramble absolute garbage all night whilst playing the bongos with less rhythm than David Brent. Still, I think I must have got my own back, as I'm pretty sure they didn't get a wink of sleep due to my snoring when i did finally drop off.
We arrived in Goa on the morning of the 2nd of October, which incidentally was the date of Mahatma Gandhi's birth and a National holiday / DRY day, i.e. no beer for me! The weather had decided to get in on the celebrations and absolutely chuck it down with the last of the monsoon rain. As a result we got soaked at Tivvim station whilst trying to sort a cab to our hotel in Arpora. Our first impressions of Goa would have to wait as we couldn't see more than six metres ahead in the downpour. The rain lasted out the weekend, so we enjoyed lazing in the room (twin beds again!) until monday morning when we had our first full day of sunshine. Our hotel in Arpora is great and we have sar's parent's friends, Sheelagh and Keith, to thank for sorting us out with a deal on the room. We are going to be based here for the next five or six weeks while we find our feet and explore Goa.
So far we have visited a spice plantation, a tomb and cathedral in Old Goa, frequented a few fine dining establishments and generally got into the swing and slower pace of life in Goa. After paying through the nose for taxis we decided (with a fair bit of encouragement from me) that hiring a moped was the way to go. We got a great deal (thanks again to Sheelagh and Keith) from a Goan chap called Peter (christian names are very common in Goa, due to the Portugese rule). I wouldn't say Sarah took to it like a duck to water, but she got stuck in without complaints, and although I dont think she will be doing any of the driving (think first time you rode your bike without stabilisers) at least we are free to get where we want to go with me at the reigns.After being without the internet for some time, we have bought a dongle (Sar still laughs every time I use this word-dirty mind I think) so we can now be in touch anywhere we go, when the bloody thing works of course.
Right, that's enough from me, I'm off for quick beer and a dip in the pool....
Due to a bit of manic spending on arrival we are now on a budget. Saturday night is our one night of extravagance. This was our seafood platter(we didn't think it was going to be so big) in what has become our local haunt Honey's. Lobster, pomfret, and tiger prawns..... throw in a few mojitos and a number of beers and even a dessert - £25 quid! Bargain!
Sarah trying to hide from the camera again!
The cleaners love to make things out of towels and leave them on our bed. A swan, flower, a fish and ... 2 chickens (not sure about the chickens). It's a surprise everytime we come back to our room!
The waiters from the hotel restaurant
The view from our room at Lagoa Azul Hotel and a view of the hotel and pool
Our Moped, Sar on the back, me at the helm.
This is an actual photo of us together!
Guess the spice?? Lots of people use this everyday?
Inside Bom Cathedral, Old Goa. The tomb holds the remains of St Francis Xavier.Have a look at our new world food blog website The Food Atlas.com for world food recipes and stories.
Are you interested in food recipes from around the world? Have a look at www.thefoodatlas.com
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