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Mumbai and the real Goer
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Mumbai and Goa seem a distant memory. A little over a week and a half have passed since I was last in Goa. I will do my best to update you on the highlights of Mumbai and Goa.
The train ride between Jaipur and Mumbai was interesting. I think I was targeted for a thieving exercise. Dodgy things happened. Halfway through the trip a whole Indian family sleeping around me were upgraded by a shining white knight from third class (which was all I could get) to second class, and they seemed to be hastily replaced by a new set of shifty looking characters. During the night I woke to find my sleeping bag zipped down and a Muslim guy across from me started saying something about a money bag (which was tied around my waist) to another person in the next carousel, immediately shutting up when he realised I was awake. Fortunately for me I was not carrying any cash on me at the time. Just my wallet, cashcard and credit card. I immediately cancelled my credit card when I got off the train. Cancelling your credit card is a pain in the arse, but I knew I could use my cashcard at most places.
Mumbai is frantic overpopulated city that I could not wait to get out of. Still, the harbour boat ride was a good chance to get close to the old British fort, and eating panu puri at Chowpatty Beach while watching the sun go down was a good way to spend half the day. I was also hoping to visit some time visiting the law courts and watch a few cases proceed (my love-hate relationship with the law will always continue) but was struck by a violent bout of diarrhea which made me feel like ratshit for about three hours. Wandering through the hotel I found the likely culprit. Dodgy bottled water. The hotel had given me bottled water a few hours before my bout. Air-conditioner units were on the outside of the many of the rooms and the hotel was collecting the drip in the bottled water containers. Now I can't be sure that they were then resealing them and then passing them off as bottled water. But I still think there was enough circumstantial evidence to sue them for under the Indian law of tort in the Mumbai Law Courts! Wanky lawyers will probably also see the analogy between Ms Donoghue's snail contaminated ginger beer and my dodgy water....
The full day fourteen hour train ride down to Goa was a pleasant enough experience. However, I did have a rather uncomfortable moment enroute. I was surrounded by Scottish students heading down to Vagator Beach on their university break, sleeping all day after a long flight into Mumbai. Being on the top sleeper berth, I had no window view. I did not feel like waking one of the Scots to allow me to sit next to a window. I was pretty keen to see the amazing country side between Mumbai and Goa. The doors near the end of the carriages could be opened allowing you to sit on edge with your feet on the step, watching ride paddies, palm trees and wide rivers pass you by. I opened the train doors and sat down. I was in heaven for half an hour, enchanted by the countryside and chilled by the soothing sounds of David Gray on my MP3. Suddenly, I felt a wetness on my legs and smelt something familiar and unpleasant. Very quickly I realised that I had been splashed by someone's urine from the adjacent toilet! Indian train toilets are opened at the bottom. You can see the ground rush by in the small dish sized hole where waste drops through. If the train is moving, wind gets under the train and pushes air outwards, splashing innocent young men like me with their feet out the door! A couple of fresh wipes and alcohol rub soon fixed the problem.
I spent the first morning visiting Old Goa. The churches there are quite magnificent, although I find the whole St Francis of Xavier remains in a glass box thing a little odd. It is like the church is still attaching itself to medieval Christian mysticism For those who want to read more about the story of St Francis of Xavier's remains go to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Basilica_of_Bom_Jesus
I met Jo at the airport at lunch, and we made our way south to Bhati Kutir, Palolem Beach http://www.nivalink.com/bhaktikutir/index.html. Bhati Kutir is a very nice place to stay, a little more expensive then other huts closer to the beach, but much nice surroundings. Palolem Beach is a great place to chill, relax, swim, drink and eat seafood. There is no real party scene there. I liked it so much I stayed a week, the last three nights in a hut next to the beach.
The only real dramatic moment in Goa was being involved in a bus accident. I was on a bus returing from Madgoan in the north of Goa that hit the back of a stationary water tanker. The driver must have thought the tanker was moving. We did not hit it at great pace but it was enough to lodge the bus's bumper bar on the back of the water tanker. Only the girl in the middle back seat hurt her shoulder when she flew forward onto the bus floor on impact. The rest of us were saved by the seat in front. Hindu women got off the bus and vomited, adding to th drama. They did not return to the same bus, seemingly thinking that the bus was spooked or full of bad karma.
Okay, and maybe I should have paid more for the car-taxi when returning from Madgoan the next day. That forty minute taxi motorcycle ride sans helmet (my driver wore one..) at speeds of about 80km/hr, weaving in and out of same direction and uncoming traffic was certainly a frightening yet exhilarating experience.
Where I stayed:
Bhati Kutir
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| 3. | Mumbai and the real Goer - Goa, India Feb 08, 2008 |
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