'The world is a book and those who do not travel
read only one page...' (St. Augustine)
Hello everyone! Hope you're all well? Word on the street is that there's 4
feet of snow or something stupid where you are? One word… gutted. So, I'm
currently sitting on a train taking us from Mumbai to Goa. It started off as a
12 hour journey; if that wasn't bad enough, we are now delayed by four hours.
With nothing but a packet of crisps each (we were told, in no uncertain terms,
to not eat the food on the train and crisps were all that was on offer in the
station at 6am), what the hell was I going to do for 16 hours? Well, I did what
I do best... SLEEP! After a nice little 9 hours I'm as fresh as a daisy! I was
told I’d be ‘amazed’ at the scenery
on the journey down but, being on top bunk facing the OPPOSITE direction to the
window, all I’m looking at is a decrepit wall! I have therefore decided to
provide the next installment of my blog to you fine people!
Where do I even begin? I apologise in advance if this chapter is a bit
lengthy - there's so much I want to share and don't know where to start! First
of all, I can honestly say that, so far, India has been one huge shock. A
positive shock. I was expecting to touch down at the airport and immediately be
accosted by beggars, whilst dodging cows and other livestock in the street. I
couldn't have been more wrong. Yes, I have seen the odd goat here and there
minding its own business on the pavement, and I have had to politely ignore
people thrusting their upturned palms in my face asking for spare change and
decline whatever piece of jewellery/fluffy toy/postcard they're trying to sell
to me. But it's nowhere near as bad as I thought. According to a guy we got
talking to one evening, over the last 15 years Mumbai has made a huge effort to
'clean up' to encourage more tourism. They must be doing a hell of a job as I
was expecting it to be much, much worse. But this is only one city, India is a
huge country. As the weeks go on I guess I'll have comparisons to make but so
far it has been a pleasant surprise!
So, as most of you know, I'm more used to slumming it in a water bungalow
in the Maldives as opposed to a HOSTEL. Don't get me wrong, I've done the whole
'hostel' thing before - I've enjoyed many a night in a dorm, but knowing that
it was temporary. This is my life for the next 2 years. But when in Rome and
all... Anyway, we'd pre-booked 2 nights somewhere so we had some sort of base
when we arrived (more on the arrival later). The 'Travellers Inn' didn't have a
communal area - a nightmare I guess if you're trying to meet people; WIFI was
only available in the corridors and breakfast was brought to your room each
morning (toast and a banana if you're curious). We had booked an AC room with a
private bathroom; in reality, the shower head was actually over the toilet and
the bloody fan could've won first prize in the 'How to keep someone awake at
night' competition, closely followed by a ticking clock on the wall which
echoed incessantly. However, the term 'AC' is fast becoming my favourite word -
you can't beat a bit of air con. Especially in the heat.
Everyone is familiar with the term 'Delhi Belly' - I'd been told to stock
up on every medicine/potion ever made in order to combat the inevitable. Touch
wood, and I know it's only been 4 days, but I've remained unscathed. Many
travel journals advise 'Don't eat this, don't eat that...', but if I followed
everything I'd read, all I'd be eating is dust! So, to play it safe, I have
decided to avoid meat and salads for the first week or two. Now, as most of you
know, I do love a good salad, and without it, I've been forced to turn to my
arch-enemy for comfort and reassurance - carbohydrates. Toast for breakfast,
followed by a sandwich at lunch, rounded off with a cheeky naan and rice at
dinner... I best buck up before I don a bikini in Goa or I may be mistaken for
an albino whale! I've always enjoyed Indian food, but there's nothing quite
like the real thing - the blends of spices they use bring out such amazing
colours and flavours that no takeaway at home can rival. Luckily for me, there
are a lot of vegetarian options here and I haven't had one bad meal so far.
Most guide books say that 3-4 days in Mumbai is enough to fully experience
it - and after 3 full days I feel we’ve experienced pretty much what is has to
offer. We visited the notorious 'Gateway to India' - a huge arch (very similar
to the Arc de Triomphe) right on the waterfront that was built by the British
to celebrate its empire many years ago. To be honest, what was more memorable
for me there was the amount of scam artists - several times we were approached
by Indian men wanting to have a photo taken with us, then wanting us to pay for
having had the photo taken! I'd seen this before so I was quick to move away -
I mean seriously, we have our own camera to take photos so why on earth would I
pay someone to take one? Madness. Also, for a country stricken with poverty,
these guys were going about with quite decent cameras with built in printers...
scamming obviously does pay. Talking of scams, let me tell you about our
arrival. So, I'd organised a transfer with our hotel that they'd meet us at the
airport; the guy I'd been emailing said it would be 1800 rupees (roughly £20)
and it would take approximately 40 minutes. Fabulous. So, after a shaky start
at baggage reclaim (my rucksack did not appear for what felt like HOURS and i
was starting to think of what life would be like without my tinted
moisturiser), we wandered through the arrivals hall, backpacks on our backs and
daypacks on our front (honestly, our street cred has completely disappeared)
and, surprise surprise, there's no one there to meet us. A man quickly jumped
in, asking where we were staying, and confirmed no one had turned up from our hotel.
To be fair, he did ring through to our hotel where they admitted there'd been
an 'admin error', read, they'd simply
forgotten. Brilliant, Anyway, his mate appears saying he'd take us - but it was
actually an hour and a half journey and it would cost us double than what we
were quoted! Looking back, we were well and truly conned, but at the time we were
tired and maybe did let our guard down. At times, I won't lie, I did have
visions of us being captured and held hostage, especially when we changed taxis
mid route into 'a bigger and more
comfortable car' and there being no meter in what was supposed to be a
taxi. In the end, as we pulled up to the hotel I would've given the driver
triple the fare, just so long as I set foot on solid ground!
Taxis themselves are cheap as chips in Mumbai - a 20 minute journey could
cost as little as 40 rupees (barely 50p). But they're not soft these drivers -
you'd hand them a 100 rupee note (just over a pound) and they'd just keep it
and not offer you the change. I mean, I'm really not arsed for a quid, but they
could at least offer you the change! But kudos to them all, because I would not
drive here if someone paid me to. It is INSANE. There is no organisation
whatsoever - lanes just merge into one another and, if you put your arm out of
the window, you can easily touch another car - they're that close to one
another! But the crazy thing is that there are rickshaws, motorbikes, even
pushbikes, all sharing the road space and it's SO dangerous, but no one bats an
eyelid. They're too busy beeping their horns at nobody in particular to pay too
much attention to the roads! Same with the trains -at any time of day, it's
like being on the tube at 5pm. People are literally hanging out of the doors
(which remain open by the way) and it's normal to jump on/off apparently. While
the train's still moving. Unbelievable.
OK, so everyone’s seen ‘Slumdog Millionaire’, right? So in your head that’s
exactly what a slum looks like. Well, that’s what I thought until I experienced
one first hand here in Mumbai. Our hotel was offering a ‘Slum tour’ – a 3 hour trip where an inhabitant from the slum itself
brought you in to experience what life is really like for a large percentage of
the Indian population. This slum in question is one of the ‘richer’ ones –
Industry plays a huge part in its function and everyone seems to have a trade.
We witnessed people recycling aluminium, plastic, cardboard… literally, nothing
goes to waste as they try to sell every little thing back to companies for
profit. Honestly, the next time someone moans to me about hating their job, I’ll
flip. Try working seven days a week for a fiver a day. The working conditions here
are abysmal – Health and Safety would have a field day in there – but what
struck me most is that everyone seems to be happy and there is a strong sense
of community spirit. So much so that, apparently, the Government has tried to
entice the slum community out into newly built accommodation (they want to
flatten the slum to make way for new buildings) but as of yet to no avail.
Their livelihood depends on the trades they can carry out in the slum – if that
is taken away from them they will literally have nothing. However, the reality
is that over one million people are living in such cramped conditions. We walked/ducked
our way through countless alleyways, passing curtain after curtain serving as
makeshift doors to homes that are barely ten square feet, whilst dodging electricity
wires and open drains. The slum receives 3 hours of water usage a day; the
government shut it down for the rest. Imagine that. What really tipped it for
me was to see a young girl just shitting in the street. When I pointed this out
to the guide, he merely shrugged and told me that most of the homes did not
even have a hole in the ground, thus forcing the people out into the street to
do their business. Obviously we attracted a lot of attention whilst walking
round and we got to meet some of the kids attending a local school. They were
all mesmerised by the Mac – it literally made his day when one of the kids
asked if he was a body builder! But they were desperate to shake our hands and
touch us – without tourists they could probably go through life without ever
seeing, let alone meeting a white person. The tour really did open my eyes – we
always wonder ‘how the other half live’,
referring to those more fortunate than us, but maybe we should consider the
other end of the spectrum – those without running water and basic sanitary
conditions.
One other thing I must mention is my perception of Indian women. I was gob
smacked when out one night at Café Leopold in Colaba (think the Malia strip
with more markets and less bars) I saw two girls, probably about my age,
necking back Budweiser’s like there was no tomorrow (mind you, the kitten heels
were unforgivable . But, like any other young generation, people seem to be a
lot more relaxed when it comes to their dress and behaviour. Men openly hold
hands in the street. Now, I don’t know if this is a cultural thing or what, but
in a country where the Karma Sutra originated, who knows? Alcohol and food seem
to be an integral part of the social culture here - I witnessed many a group of
locals enjoying a yard/fish bowl of Kingfisher, a beer which I am begrudged to
drink now to ‘fit in’ with the
travellers. Surprisingly, we have seen a lot of ‘couple’ travellers so far, way
more than I expected to. And you know when there’s a traveller about, you can
spot them a mile off – the obligatory backpack, baggy trousers, long hair… we
even saw a lad that fitted this description perfectly buying a flute, to which
the Mac commented, ‘what a scruffy twat’. I'm sure the poor guy would've said the same thing if he’d witnessed the Mac
asking me for a hair product ‘so he didn't look like a gobshite’. Oh dear, someone needs to embrace their ‘au naturel’ side a bit more I think, and
for once, it isn't me! I'm actually shocked to report that my makeup bag hasn't left the confines of my rucksack – there’s just no need for it. I mean, I actually
go out. For a meal. With no makeup on. And clothes wise, well, let me tell you
this – normally, the slightest bit of heat and I'm there, wearing as little as
possible for maximum tanning exposure. But it’s different here – it’s a city so
I am covering up purposefully so as not to attract any unwanted attention. I'm sure this will change as soon as I hit the beaches in the South. Or maybe this
is a turning point in my life – out go the rollers to make way for some
dreadlocks. Let’s see what Goa has in store for us…
