Mumbai part II ,south to Goa and life on the backpacker trail.

Before selling up, boxing up and setting sail one of the last books I read was Are You Experienced? by William Sutcliffe. My friends Christina and Phillip from Cologne knew that I would be travelling to India and recommended (urged) that I read it, perhaps as a kind of immunization (or warm -up) to the non-sense that life on the backpacker trail can steep you in for a few days at a time, or at least until you manage to get a ticket to the 'next place' where it starts all over again. The amusing thing for me is although differing slightly in some minor details and characterisations, the novel is disappointingly close to reality as I'm comfortable with without running screaming into the jungle with my pants on my head.
More about this later.

My first few days in India were a shock, you could probably tell. However couch-surfing saved the day once more when it introduced me to Louella, and one Sunday some time ago I found my way to the right platform at CST and out to Bandra (west); a fairly ordinary and affordable suburb of Mumbai while still being close enough to the downtown area to only cost 10 Rupees for the train fare. 

What a relief.
A real place where real people live, not trying to swindle money or beg from travelers, nor selling miscellaneous articles on little street kiosks to passes by who due to a combination of tiredness, anti-malarial medications and bad diarrhoea, may not quite know what exactly they are doing, buying or most importantly what change they are getting... Basically it wasn't a tourist area.
I liked the promenade along the seashore it Bandra, I always thought going for a stroll along the prom was a curiously British thing, however I'm discovering it may be one of the best pan-human characteristics there is. There's just something about walking at your own pace, with plenty of room to go where you please alongside the place where water meets land. Even better if the walk goes along a roughly north-south axis so the are views of the rising/setting sun.

Bandra 'promenade'

Sunset over the mangrove

You can learn a lot from walking in these areas, Bandra (west) is an affluent suburb. Overweight Indians march along in tracksuits and trainers, plugged into their iPods. Following doctors orders. Chubby over-loved dogs are barely walked by the professional walkers that stand in for the dog's busy affluent owners. The odd beggar stands in front of the 'NO BEGGING' sign, hand out. Looking hungry. Teenagers meet for a few extra-curricular sessions with their girlfriend or boyfriend, gangs of greasy boys in plaid shirts sit in rows following the beautiful girls with their eyes as they stroll past. Oozing hormonal frustrations, sebum, and black-heads. Old geezers wait at the chess tables for a partner, one or two crazy white people jogging, toddlers run after the pigeons, never catching one, never wondering why they're compelled to try. Everyone has a fascinating face; different hues, light coffee, dark chocolate, a story written on leather.
Ordinary, everyday things. People up to their business. it's genuine. That's what I'm traveling to see.

People up to their business

My host in Mumbai did a lot to break a bad mood I had from the 'Hotel' Windsor in South Mumbai, I realised that I'm missing some things. Stability for one, an absence of worry is another. I am usually grateful when a host offers a few extra days stay, but at this stage in my travels being hosted in my own room in a nice, comfortable house in a neighbourhood where the most exciting thing to do is to go for a little stroll down some lanes herewith unknown (and then a little washing-up) is delicious balm for the soul.

After the extended stay caused by the number of days the trains to Goa were fully booked (5) I pre-positioned in another hostel close to the CST terminus, had a terrible nights sleep due to a pair of baby owls, and boarded the Madgon express at 6.45am.

Waiting to board the train at 6.30am, note the dust in the air

The day train was intentional; I wanted to be able to see the landscape changing as we rumbled on. I wanted a window show. The problem is that the windows were heavily tinted to the extent that unless the sun was incredibly bright outside I could just about make out the shape of the hills in the distance. However I slept a lot of the time, so I guess it didn't matter. Just another case of expectation being kicked into shape by reality. 
I think that might be India for me; I've always been interested in the country, it's cultures, peoples and histories. I've read a little about it, wondered what it would like, painted pictures in my head based on films and television, I even imagined the smells! There is no imagining reality, nor anticipating what will occur. I've learned just to accept what comes around the bend. Goa is a prime example of this:
I expected old Portuguese colonial buildings painted in bright pastel hues seemingly dropped into tropical Indian countryside and coastlines. I expected a few old hippies here and there, a cool and laid-back atmosphere, villages by the sea and inland where the freshly planted rice paddies turn the landscape ultra-green. A bit of history, perhaps. Some bars and the like, but mostly quieter than peak season as there are no holidays now in the west so there should be very few travelers and lots of cheap accommodation.
Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.

I've somehow managed to come to India in peak season for the area that I'm travelling. Accommodation is fully booked most days and train tickets need booking many days in advance. Rave (Trance I think) culture dominates the entertainment in the area and shitty dance music pumps out across the beach at the most inappropriate of times, like sunset. Waves of travelers arrive each day seeking the 'Goa experience' Traveler's hostels are plentiful along the coast, spilling forth keen youths each evening in search of a good party, many returning some hours later confused that all they found was a series of shitty bars giving the area something akin to a 'Blackpool in the tropics' feel.

Beach cows

The sea draws me back yet again

I didn't take any photographs of the shitty beach bars, the sneaky taxi drivers or the degenerate ex-pats who drink in them all day, every day. I can choose to remember the beauty instead, there is an advantage to not taking too many photographs in that you do not remember everything you saw and did through the frame of the selective lens-eye. The sunsets in Goa were all spectacular, however the humidity made the 35 degree daytime temperatures quite uncomfortable. The introduction of extra cold showers helped, however I cannot imagine living here in the summer.

The buses in India are a fantastic way to get away from the tourist coast and see little pieces of daily life. Unable to buy a train ticket online and from an expensive travel agent I went to Margao station in the south of the state by local bus. To my surprise the trip went very easily and apart from getting uncomfortably hot and sticky at times the ride was fun. They still have bus conductors here which helps the perpetually lost traveler no end. The best thing is that no bus ride cost more than 30 Rupees (30p) most being 15-20 INR.
The bus alternative to renting a scooter appealed to me on the grounds of:
1. My clumsiness
2. It's not driving, it's survival
3. No licence, deliberately may I add
4. Seeing the damage from a minor accident on some of the hostel residents
5. Being able to look around from a bus

Old Goa or Velha Goa ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Old_Goa ) is an interesting former town inland from the current state capitol of Panaji which was was of the jewels of the Portuguese empire until plague decimated the town. All that is left of note these days in a group of religious buildings which seem very much out of context these days. It's a world heritage site, so the sign said.

 There was also a spice plantation tour to see, highlights included seeing the unfamiliar plants that provide the everyday spices we enjoy, an almost robotic tour guide, getting cold water poured down your back and watching a 6 foot 4 inch ginger guy climb a tree...

A vanilla plant, part of the orchid family

I enjoyed Goa for what it was, the impending 'issue' with my travels is that I'm not sure where to go next. The backpacker trail led to Hampi from Goa, but I decided to take another long train ride to Bangalore to see the ghost of India future, but what then? Mysore Is close by so that might be next. Problem is there accommodation there is a little expensive so I may only stay two nights then go on to Kerala. The problem might be that approaching 3 months of traveling I might be running a little short of mental energy and inspiration. The thought of a long bus journey in the heat, or another night on a sleeper train having mice dance on my head is losing it's appeal. That's why I've booked my outward flight from India for the 20th of February, I could only stay another 3 weeks after that due to the the visa running out in any case. It feels like the right thing to do.