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… starts tomorrow with what is promised to be a mighty fine Chicken Byriani. As more teams arrive in Cochin I’m starting to get quite excited.
This blog will remain quiet for the next 2 - 4 weeks as I attempt to drive 2000 miles in a Rickshaw. See our team page for updates: www.shesagoa.com
I spent a long time yesterday writing a post about our three day train journey. I spell checked it in gmail and in the process of copying it back into wordpress I lost 80% of the post (It was a good one too). Most frustrating. Anyway, here’s my second attempt.
I’ve always liked train journeys. Ever since I was a kid the hours seemed to pass a quickly as the scenery. Even so, the idea of three days couped up in second class was quite daunting. From Jaipur we had several options to get to Cochin. The first was a single train that would get us there in about 26 hours. This was fully booked. The second option was a train to Mumbai (18 hours) then a second down the west coast to Cochin. This was also fully booked. The third option was to take the slow train to Mumbai (22 hours) then a train that headed south east, almost to Madras, before doubling back south west down to Cochin (37 hours). This was also fully booked… but only for the day we wanted to leave. The following day we could take option 3. So here we are in Cochin 2 days later than we’d hoped.
The relatively short run from Jaipur to Mumbai was not too painful. There was plenty of space in our sleeper car and one was free to wander about. Watching out the window was entertaining, but for full effect one can stand by the open door and see the world pass by. Fantastic stuff. Apart from this, reading and (interrupted) sleep (I always wake up when the train stops at a station) helped pass the hours.
We had a 6 hour wait in Mumbai. Just enough time for a good pizza and to watch the locals playing cricket in the many parks. I’ve never seen so many simultaneous cricket games on at once. There must have been 10 - 15 games, all players dressed in their whites, with two umpires, a pavilion tent and score board for each game. These people are obsessed with the game.
The second train was not so comfortable. In our compartment, designed to seat / sleep six had 13 people rammed into it. Once again quite frustrating, but we did get talking to someone who I can only describe as the first truly friendly Indian I’ve met in the country. Everyone else who has been friendly has been trying to get our custom or rip us off. This chap, Anup, explained why the train was so full. Most people were from the state of Kerela and were going home for Christmas. Unable to get seats on any of the trains, they would get a waiting list ticket and then pay the fine for not having a valid ticket. The fine often goes straight into the ticket collectors pocket, which goes some way to explain why there were people crammed into every available space (including next to the foul smelling toilets). Anup also helped us out with ordering food. A top fellow.
Despite the overcrowding, the foul stench coming from the toilets, the immense heat and overly spicy food I really enjoyed the trip. It was a great way to see the culture, meet the locals (I didn’t see any other westerners on the train) and see the country pass by.
We are now in Cochin in 30+ temperatures. Yesterday we met a English / French couple who are also on a years travelling trip. They are trying to do as much as possible overland and have so far visited Russia, Mongolia (catching the end of the Mongol Rally) China, Tibet, Nepal and India. We went for a well needed seafood meal and spent the evening chatting away. A nice pair, and their own website is as follows: www.tomandlaureinasia.com
Despite going to a carol concert in the first Christian Church ever built in India, it really doesn’t feel like Christmas. Right now I must say I do miss the traditional Christmas day. Family, Christmas turkey and presents… Merry Christmas to you all.
We’ve been in Jaipur for 4 days now, which leaves me with rather a lot to tell. That said I’m trying my best to keep these entries short and readable. So, here goes.
Jaipur is the third corner of India’s Golden Triangle, our two previous destinations being the other two corners. The city itself is huge but the old town is surrounded by pink walls with most of the buildings are inside also painted pink. On Sunday we went into the city palace which was reasonably impressive, followed by the Royal Observatory which is full of large astronomy / time telling type things. The most impressive of which was a huge sun dial (some 15-20 metres high) which can tell the time accurate to two seconds.
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While admiring Jaipur’s prime landmark, the Hawa Mahal, a shop keeper started talking to us in Spanish. We were chatting about general tourists in Jaipur for about 15 minutes before he managed to draw us into his shop. Espe ended up buying a pashmina (shawl) and we asked about getting silk sleeping sacks made up. I left feeling reasonably happy having haggled the price down for said taylor made sleeping sacks. It took me a little while to realise that we’d been done over. We were paying western prices and the whole point of buying the sleeping sacks in India was to save money. Espe was even more annoyed having bought a Pashmina at tourist prices that she didn’t really want. Yes, these are expert salesmen. They know all the tricks.
On the Monday we decided to try and escape the hustle and bustle by walking up to one of the city’s surrounding hills to a fort with palace within. It wasn’t until we reached the top that we realised just how big the city is. The tourist center is surrounded as far as the eye can see. A very much needed relaxing day. Tiger fort, is relatively untouched by tourists, and is all the better for it. I was far more impressed by this than the city palace we saw the previous day.
Tuesday was spent running around, chocking on pollution and generally getting a big headache. First we went to the station to try and arrange our tickets. At the information desk they do not give any useful information, while at the ticket desk when inquiring they will arrange you a ticket without asking if it is actually what you want. Unfortunately for us the two best options for getting down to Cochin were both fully booked (and with no one able to explain how the waiting list works we chose not to risk it). So instead we have two trains. The first to Mumbai is small 18 hour journey. The one from Mumbai to Cochin goes the long way and takes a whopping 32 hours. Along with a 9 hour wait in Mumbai it will take us until Sunday to get there. This is less than ideal, but the tickets were thrust at us before we even figured out what was going on.
After the station fiasco we went back to the shop to collect our silk sleeping bags. They were nicely done, but in reality not what we wanted. Given the price we’d agreed on (not far off western prices) and some problems with the quality of the silk we were not at all happy. Somehow, Espe managed to argue the price down by 1000 rupees and get a refund on a pashmina that she was pressured into buying previously that turned out to be damaged. I’d figured we only get a like for like replacement and few hundred rupees off the sleeping sacks at most. Hell knows no fury like the scorn of a women.
Today we went over to a Hindu Temple named Monkey Palace. The place is truly wonderful. For the best part of our time there we were the only tourists and so got the full attention of the religious residents. This place was a true peace haven, separated from the chaos of Jaipur by a rocky hill. When leaving Espe became the main attraction with Indian boys queuing up to be photographed with her.
This afternoon we had another new experience. A Indian film in and Indian cinema. Full to capacity (1500 people) there was quite an atmosphere. I really enjoyed all three hours of it. The film was tacky and cheesy in places, full of stereotypes with fantastic music. Despite not understanding any Hindi the plot was simple to follow and the odd English phrase here and there helped out. Any of the Harrow lot who have seen “Vivah” could you add a comment to explain why the mother in the bride’s house was so angry all the time.
Last post for a while. Got a long train journey ahead.
Having heard all about Indian buses from friends before arriving, the time came to experience this for ourselves. We wanted to take the train, however the two trains going from Agra to Jaipur left at silly AM and silly PM respectively, so the hourly bus it was.
In India, bigger vehicles have right of way. Bullying tactics is the order of the day. Use of the horn seems to permit buses to cross onto the wrong side of the road and drive at whatever is coming. Bikes, rickshaws, autos, cars and jeeps are left with little choice but to swerve off the road to avoid a head on collision with a bus.
Things get interesting however when the oncoming vehicle is a bus or truck, at which point a fun game of chicken starts. The game is spiced up even more when your bus pulls out to overtake only to see a bus overtaking a truck in the other direction. Double head on collision potential.
Our journey was particularly unpleasant as we were sat at the front in full view of the oncoming traffic. On top of that three hours listening to the horn is painful. Less so, thanks to the Christmas present from Auntie Viv who thoughtfully bought me. Some earplugs.
What is most frustrating is the lack of common sense from the driver and complete lack of consideration for the passengers. The driver runs up as close as possible to the vehicle in front, often having to brake suddenly to avoid ramming it and then swerves out violently to overtake. Having passed the truck / tractor / car / bike / cow / camel / elephant, the driver then swerves in violently narrowly avoiding the oncoming truck / tractor / car / bike / cow / camel / elephant.
The following photo was taken when traveling along at 50mph about 1 metre behind the truck in front just as the driver swerved out to overtake. The view suddenly afforded to us was not too reassuring…
Note to self, do not get on a bus at night.
I must first start off by saying, contrary to my earlier comments, that eating curries twice a day is fantastic. Especially at less than a pound a pop with rice and chapaties included.
Anyway, we are now in Agra. See map (provided I manage to update it). Home of the Taj Mahal. Now I have to say it is the changes that make traveling tough. You are presented by immense highs as well as big lows, but they generally follow each other in such quick succession that they really hit you hard. Yesterday was a prime example of that.
We were up at 5:30 in order to get north of the river to view the sunrise over the Taj Mahal. Arriving in darkness and watching the building change colours as the sun came up was simply awesome (hi five Jon). We got chatting with some local kids and later crossed the river to enter the Taj. The complex is truly amazing but words and pictures cannot do it justice. That said, you are not here, so here’s a picture for ya…
After several hours we had to leave as hunger was getting the best of us so we left and went to the Rough Guide’s recommendation of the Sheela hostel. The place was beautiful. So tranquil, yet so close to the Taj. The food was great too. If only we’d known…
After lunch we took a Rickshaw down to the park (walking is not really possible as you get so wound up by the touts and rickshaw drivers that you succumb and climb on board of one just to get away from it all. Looking for a quiet spot in the park we soon found two kids trying to sell us snow dome Taj keyrings. They don’t take no for an answer. They do eventually get bored however. These kids left us alone after about 10 minutes. As Espe pointed out it really isn’t right that these kids resort to selling crap to tourists when they should be out playing or in school.
After about 5 minutes peace we were joined by another group of kids. These were school kids and were just interested in talking with us. They showed us their swapsy cards (cricket players, wrestlers and film stars) and started teaching us Hindi. Before we knew it the group of three grew to about 15 and we found ourselves invited for a game of cricket. England verses India. After a bit of a knock about we got Espe involved for her first taste of Cricket. All jolly good preparation for the Rickshaw Run. This was all great fun, and one of the highs I mentioned earlier, until they all started trying to charge for the use of the cricket bat and ball and then started posing for photos with Espe. At least two of the kids took this as an opportunity to try and grope her. Now this is something that we’ve been warned about from Indian men, but to get it from 12 year old kids is just not on.
So we wandered off a little pissed off, only to be pestered by every salesman and rickshaw rider in the park. We eventually jumped onto a rickshaw wanting to return to the tranquility of our hostel. A small chap who looked quite well aged agreed to take us for twenty rupees (a little over 20 pence). I didn’t realise how young he was until we were moving. He was so small and skinny that he couldn’t get us up the first hill. I ended up jumping off and pushing. On the move again we were deciding to give him more than just the twenty rupees agreed (this in itself is a dilemma, as if you tip highly it drives prices up, making them unreasonable for locals) when suddenly he got a puncture. We got out and payed him forty on the spot as we were feeling so bad. He insisted that we walk with him to the corner where he could get the puncture repaired and then take us on our way again. We couldn’t bear the thought of a child this small slaving away in front of us again. We refused but walked up the road with him. Talking we found that Sanjay was only 12. He had never been to school and couldn’t read or write (yet his English was better than that of any of the kids in th park). The only positive was that he was an ardent cricket fan and played as a wicket keeper as often as he could (basically when he’s not slogging it out on a rickshaw). Espe gave Sanjay all the Cricket swapsy cards she’d been given by the kids in the park and he did seem quite touched by this.
Earlier on shortly after getting on the Rickshaw, Sanjay asked me the usual question of where are you from. Now the usual response when I say I’m English is “Ah, very nice country sir”, Sanjay however responded with the honesty and sobriety of someone triple his age: “you are a very lucky man”. How true he was. I’ve was brought up in a wealthy country where all children have the right to education and most get it. Sanjay, at twelve years old is forced to carry people twice his weight on a cycle rickshaw in a heavily polluted city while he should be at school being educated, playing and making friends. His eyes said it all.
This was an experience that has left a deep impression on me. If the above has moved you too, then I urge to help out charities that work with Children in poverty stricken areas. I for one am very grateful for the support many of you have shown for our entry in the Rickshaw Run and I’d like to think that the money donated will go to help people like Sanjay.
This place truly is off the hook. Despite traveling to places such as Thailand, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan and Mongolia, nothing could have prepared me for this place. The traffic is manic. bikes, rickshaws, scooters, auto rickshaws, cars, buses and trucks all fight for the same small space. Not a second goes buy without hearing a horn. Even small alley ways, barely big enough for two people to pass, have motorbikes hurtling down them. Just walking along the street is scary business, requiring 100% concentration not to be hit by whatever is passing buy. On top of that, as a tourist one has to fight off the constant onslaught of touts, shop keepers and Rickshaw Wallahs, all looking to rip you off.
Don’t get me wrong, these first three days in Delhi have been amazing. A real eye opener. The poverty, the noise, the colours, the smells, the pollution all combine to assault the senses.
Another thing that has surprised me, is that I’ve not been too impressed with the food. Of the curries tried so far they have either been bland and watery or so spicy you can’t taste anything else. Still, at 50 pence on average a meal one can’t really complain.
We’ve not slept too well as the hostel, much like the whole city is noisy. Despite this we’ve managed to see many of the sights including the parliament buildings, India Gate, the Red Fort and the Mosque. All very impressive, but pale in significance to just wandering the streets and witnessing life in Delhi.
This has to be a brief entry due to time restraints and the poor connection. Apologies for the spelling. We’re off to Agra tomorrow (train is at 06:15) but once we are there we should be able to relax a bit, giving me time to do a proper entry.
Ever the impulsive buyer, while browsing around ebay, Marc bought this Mini…
This deserves a mention, firstly as it is so similar to Christie, and secondly, as it is so much fun. I do not know of any other car that has a grin factor like a Mini. I will have another.
I’d planned this post months ago, and I was intending to give a list of things I will and wont miss about Spain. Unfortunately Alan got the before me, so I’ll skip that. Besides, one can’t really predict what one will miss… I’ll have to wait and see. First impressions having returned home though, are that people are courteous when driving and mopeds are actually quiet.
My last week in the office was pretty hectic, mainly sorting my own stuff out. Despite the leaving parties, last pub quiz and packing it didn’t really feel as though I was leaving after four fantastic years in Madrid. In fact, it wasn’t until Philippe left after saying goodbye and left on Thursday evening in the office that it really struck me how much of a change I’m making.
The drive home was fun, but again it wasn’t until we arrived in Harrow that I began to realise what I was doing. The miserable weekend traffic jams in South Ruislip sent me into a panic. I hadn’t even arrived back to harrow and I was starting to think about what I’d just given up.
Reading over a particular post on Philippe’s blog warmed me, and I must say I feel extremely lucky to have passed the last four years as I have. I’ve had a comfortable relaxed working environment and I’ve been able to enjoy a good standard of living in Madrid. I’ve traveled both in Spain and further afield but best of all, I’ve made some amazing friends. I’ve been told this before, but now I believe it for myself. It is the people you meet and the friends you make that truly make you happy.
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