Why I Love Trains

Having undertaken a few journeys in Nepal now, where railways don't exist, and 10hour bus journeys upon questionable roads are standard, i feel it is time to say a few words in praise of Indian trains. While they may be slow (18 hours for 1000km) and dusty, there is nothing quite like a rail journey through India. The standard way to travel is by 2nd class sleeper- there are four or five classes on Indian trains, ranging from 3rd class (unreserved seating which is no joke in the most populous country in the world) right up to first class air conditioned, which is a luxury we have yet to afford. 2nd class sleeper consists of open compartments, each containing six beds, three on each side. The top bunk is permanent, but the middle one folds down in the day to provide a seat back for the bottom bunk. The top is the best to reserve because it means you always have a bed to lie down on or to escape from the frequent chaos that occurs at ground level. The carriages aren't too crowded as seats are reserved, but this still doesn't stop the odd interloper and some trains are considerably more lively than others. In place of a buffet car, railway employees walk regularly up and down the carriage selling various items from hot samosas to bottled drinks, and you are invariably woken at 6 in the morning by the sound of 'CHAI, CHAI, GARRAM CHAI,' echoing through the train. The carriages are constantly a hub of activity and your fellow passengers are usually friendly enough, especially on the more touristy routes, offering conversation and food of variable qualities. But by far the most attractive things about the trains for me is that they are open. Rather than sitting in an hermetically sealed environment as in Europe, the doors never lock. There's nothing quite like hanging out of a train moving at sixty miles an hour (on a good day) and watching the vast Indian plains roll by. This also has the added advantage of enabling you to smoke covertly by hanging out of the doors- vital on 12hour plus journeys. The whole experience really gives you a sense that you are travelling, you can always feel the wind and a cross section of Indian life or countryside is waiting for you- all you have to do is open the door. I'm particularly excited about our last journey back to Mumbai in two months. We are in the middle of the dry season currently and at the moment the landscape is dusty and barren and the rivers are dry. As the monsoon is approaching (its just started raining outside!) I'm looking forward to seeing the change in the countryside, when yellow and brown will be replaced by green and blue.

Varanasi

Varanasi is an interesting city- frustrating and exhilarating in roughly equal measures. The actual city of Varanasi is a sprawling urban centre, unattractive even by Indian standards, but this all changes as soon as you get to the river. The Ganges, India's most sacred river, runs past one side of the town- a vast flood plain stretches toward the horizon on the opposite bank. All along the river for about a mile in each direction are the ghats, stepped stone approaches to the river, used for various purposes ranging from cremation to bathing; washing clothes to cleansing the soul. Varanasi is one of the oldest inhabited cities in the world, although not in it's current state as most of the buildings have been repeatedly destroyed thanks to a succession of Muslim invasions. It's almost mythological age coupled with it's proximity to the Ganges, or Ganga in Hindi, have served to make it one of the holiest sites in India, certainly the most sacred city.

However, Varanasi is not all fun and games. It suffers from vice and virtue in similar measures, and at similar extremes, the vices being most apparent upon arrival. Firstly, centuries of pilgrims and tourists have inspired an almost unparalleled greed amongst the rickshaw touts and shop owners- in fact the auto drivers will rarely take you where you want to go unless they are sure of a vastly inflated price or a hotel commission (we were dropped off a good 2km from the river, despite our drivers insistence that it was 'just down the road'). While to some extent this flaw is present everywhere in the subcontinent, it feels a lot more pronounced in Varanasi. The second thing that hits you about the city, in particular the old town, a rambling labyrinth of interconnected alleyways and passages which runs parallel to the river, is the dirt. Being Hinduisms most sacred urban centre, the whole town is full of cows (although I can't hold it against them- the animals in themselves are lovely!). Combine this with hundreds of goats, water buffalo, chickens, stray dogs, rats and a few thousand monkeys and you might get an idea of what it's like to walk the streets of Varanasi. And they all shit everywhere. The old town really does feel old- medieval. It brings to mind of primary school history lessons when you hear stories of rubbish just being thrown into the street from windows and doorways- apart from unreliable plumbing and inconsistent electricity, going into old town could be like going back in time six hundred years.

But all this is t o detract form the inherent beauty of the place. A walk along the ghats or a morning or evening row across the Ganges really brings home the tranquility of the city, literally metres from the teeming urban sprawl of the centre. The ganges is beautiful, the sunsets are beautiful and the buildings are beautiful- you can't walk for more than five metres without tripping over a temple or shrine which could be anywhere between five hundred years old and five weeks old. And that brings me on t he the most enchanting characteristic of the city- the people that inhabit it and visit it. For Hindus, bathing in the Ganges removes all sin, rather like a baptism in Christianity. For pilgrims and residents alike the the river is a living Goddess, and it shows. And the ghats are a 24 hour hive of activity. In the morning there is washing an bathing, in the day fishing and boat rides and chillum smoking sadhus, in the evening, every evening is an hour long ceremony in praise of Shiva, and all day, everyday, are the cremations. Hindus believe that dying at Varanasi, along with a handful of other places in India and Pakistan, can liberate the soul from samsara, the repetitive cycle of life, death and rebirth. Those who die within the city or by the banks of the river achieve nirvana instantly, and this is a powerful draw to Varanasi for those with the money to afford the journey. The cremations are a regular part of life in the city, whether it is narrowly dodging a wrapped corpse in the improbably fast funeral processions through the meandering alleys of the old town or quietly observing the peaceful, sombre and public cremations on the ghats. You always seem to feel close to life and death in Varanasi, and it is one of the most spiritual and inspiring places I have ever been. You even learn to deal with the less desirable aspects after a while- it makes a trip to the shops for a pack of cigarettes far more exciting.

Bandavgarh National Park

Bandavgarh National Park is one of the smaller parks in India, but it has the advantage of having the highest density of tigers in the whole world, although this only actually translates to about 65 animals in a 200 sq km area. Bandavgarh is one of the parks sponsored by a government initiative called 'Project Tiger' which means it receives substantial subsidies and as such has a much better infrastructure for tourists and safaris. The safari costs are fixed, around forty pounds for 4 people for a morning or evening safari. There's lots of birdlife in the park, lots of big eagles and brightly coloured smaller birds, and a fair amount of peacocks. There isn't much in the way of bigger animals though apart from the main attractions- just lots of deer. Apparently there are also sloth bears and leopards but it think they generally only come out at night and we certainly didnt see any.

Anway, the safaris! Our first one was in the afternoon, with another couple who had already been on two safaris and seen tigers every time so we had high hopes. Our first sighting was about an hour in- over on a rise in the distance you could just make out the head and shoulders of a tiger lying down. While we were all standing on the jeep and straining to see, another one just walked around the corner on the road, trailed by a stream of jeeps and elephants! The tigers are so used to the jeeps that people can get really close. We drove around to a better vantage point and watched the tigers drinking, having a swim and stalking deer- we waited along time but they didn't seem to want to attack. The way they move is amazing- so big and powerful, but at the same time its easy to see that they're cats- the way they yawn, laze around in the sun and swish their tails is just like a house cat!

On the second day we went out in the morning and it wasn't long before we came upon a load of jeeps all stopped in the road. Apparently there was a tiger in the bushes and everyone was waiting for it to come out. And it did- a 3 year old female, which is fully grown but still young, i think they live for about 15yrs. She walked out into the long grass towards the jeep track- our car sped around, along with the others to cut her off. She walked towards the road and then turned to avoid the jeeps- our jeep was at the back of the line and she walked right past us, we could almost touch her. That was our closest sighting. We also saw one sleeping, lyng down int he sun with the carcass of a deer in front of her.

The park was amazing but it was more like a tiger spotting than a safari- the guides know why everyone's come and they make it mission to spot one, which is nice. However, there's not much else to see so after the tigers have moved on the drivers tend to just speed around the bumpy tracks, up and down hills all over the park, scattering monkeys, peacocks and deer in front of them as they power through the forest, which is a bit of an adventure in its own right. Interestingly, Indians still drive like Indians even in a national park- at one point we had another jeep right up our arse which ended up in an interesting, high speed power struggle until our jeep overheated and the engine cut out, when the car behind swerved violently around us and over a small bridge. We were shouting and cheering but the Indians in the other jeep seemed to regard it as normal (which it probably is).

Arambol

After Hampi we took a long and arduous, 24 hour journey to the north of Goa to a small, idyllic, hippie-infested beach called Arambol. It took 4 buses, 2 trains, one motorbike taxi (which was interesting- they drove us over a foot bridge!) and one auto-rickshaw and one whole day! Arambol is lovely though, well worth the journey. More lazing on the beach, more scooter rental and lots of 8% kingfisher, but not a whole lot of activity! We did a day trip to Anjuna to visit the market, and finished it off listening to some psychadellic sitar-rock fusion in the bar at the end, with the sun going down behind us. Very relaxing and probably our last beach stop so we made the most of it!

On the last day, ellen suffered the unwanted attention of a very interesting creature we have named Morris the Monster. Turned out to be a leaf mantis- a praying mantis which looks exactly like a collection of dead leaves with a horrible face and claws! He was about 6inches long. We also saw a big snake (about 5 feet long) behind our flat and we had a very noisy family of rats (who popped in occasionally of an evening to say hello) living in our roof.

Illogical Driving

Although i have mentioned before about the eratic nature of driving in India, we recently experienced something which highlights the illogical (some may say bloody stupid) attitudes which produce it. On the way out of hampi, our bus stopped at a level crossing (so far so good, at least it stopped!) In England, and probably every other country, when cars stop at a level crossing they tick to their lanes, enabling, when the barriers lift, both streams of traffic to move forward. Not so in India. The entire road is filled on both sides of the crossing, so impatient are they to carry on with their journey. That this is completely counter productive does not seem to register. When the barriers lift two lines of traffic- bikes, rickshaws, cars and buses charge at each other like opposing cavalry, resulting in a huge, stationary mass of vehicles honking and swearing at each other but not moving. We watched this unfold in disbelief and not a small amount of amusment! It all seems to be part of the 'every man for himself' attitude in India, despite the fact that things would run a lot more smoothly if everyone just agreed on some basic road rules!

Hampi

After Palolem we took a 12 hour train journey to visit Hampi, a small village which is the base for visiting the impressive five hundred year old ruins of Vijayanagar, the capital city of the largest Hindu empire in history. It's got an interesting story actually. During the 15th century the North and much of the South of India was ruled by a dynasty of muslim rulers known as the 'Delhi Sultanate'. In an effort to control the wayward south, the Sultan of Delhi took two young Hindu princes under his wing, schooling them in Islam and and the doctrines of the North. When satisfied that they were suitably obedient, he sent them back to their kingdom to rule for him. However, shortly after their arrival they rebelled, winning a series of military victories and founding the largest, most successful Hindu empire in history, with the brand new Vijayanager (victory city) as its modern capital. However, only a couple of hundred years later the city was destroyed by raids, leaving the ruins that stand today.

Hampi is an amazing place to stay- rich jungles and banana plantations, fed by a large river, are intersperced with dramatic boulder mountains, which just appear to have fallen from the sky. On top of these hills are assorted ruins, the most spectacular being Matanga Hill, which offers superdb birds eye views of the entire ruins. Trekking up there is hard though! the steps havn't been maintained since the city fell, and sometimes the only way up is over narrow cuttings etched out of the solid rock- we both sufferred a bit of vertigo! But the hike is worth it- the views at sunset were amazing.

The other ruins fan out over the surrounding countryside, over a 26 sq km area. We rented a motorbike from town and spent the days driving around them, avoiding cows and the occasional monkey, as well as the insane indian bus drivers driving on the wrong side/ in the centre of the road. Once we were pulled over by traffic police- a cheeky smile and my provisional driving liscence seemed to satisfy the though! The ruins consist of palaces, temples and the impressive elephant stables, all in various states of dilapidation and disrepair. Funny when you think that most of them are only as old as Hampton Court- it feels more like you're walking around Pompeii.

The village is nice and relaxing- lots of traveller hang outs and friendly restaurants, but the heat was oppressive, exacerabated by daily powercuts from 9-10 every morning and every evening. The temperature peaked at 43degrees- so hot that the candles we were burning to read with (because of the powercut) wilted like dead flowers! I've never been anywhere so hot that the candles melt...

Apart from the heat though it was a truly amazing place- eden like views and dramatic ruins, coupled with speeding along quiet (if unpredictable) roads on the bike. One of the highlights was Laxmi, the temple elephant. She lives in the main tample on Hampi bazaar- a living hindu temple that attracts pilgrims from all over south India. She is specially trained to bless people as they come into the templt,but also does a (more lucrative) sideline in tourists- you give her ten ruppees which she takes with her trunk, then pats you on the head! She also appreciated donations of bananas- which she eats by the bunch, and cocnuts, which she breaks on the floor then picks up with her prehensile trunk. Every morning she has her bath in the sacred ford- you can go down an watch her lying in the water getting a good scrub down from her keeper.

Hampi is a beautiful place and very laid back- its easy to stay for longer than you plan!

Animals of Goa

An account of our rather lethargic stay in Palolem would be incomplete without some mention of the animals we encountered there, namely stray dogs and wild pigs. Now these may not sound very exciting, but they added a whole extra dimension to our stay there!

Stray dogs are a bit of a problem in India, but in Palolem they're so well fed, and hang around the restaurants on the beach so much that they're very healthy and friendly. Most of the restaurants have adopted at least one or two dogs, who politely sit and wait expectantly while you're eating your dinner. Ellen insisted on giving some of these dogs ridiculous names (bruce for a girl dog, bruce II for her daughter), while i came up with some good ones (or at least more sexually appropriate). They would even come and lie under your sun bed in the day to get out of the heat, or dig themselves a pit under your table in the evening to sit in and keep you company.

The wild Goan Black Pigs are amazing. They're really small, standing about a foot off the ground, and quite scared of people (they grunt and squeal and run away when you approach!). They lived in the sandy palm forest behind the beach, eating the rubbish (and no doubt providing bacon for breakfast in the restaurants). They were very cute, especially when they squealed and ran into each other in an effort to escape from us. On the last day we saw some new piglets who were even funnier and even more scared- they would run around in circles and hide under bushes. Definitely a highlight of our stay on the beach!

Also worth a mention are the cows. They mainly live in the village (also eating rubbish) but every evening a few ceremonial cows with bells would be herded across the beach, with painted horns. Didn't manage to get any pictures so you'll just have to take my word that it was very picturesque!

Palolem

Palolem has to be one of the most idyllic places in the world. Deep in the south of Goa, the small fishing village has one of the most perfect beaches imaginable, a curve of white sand fringed with an unbroken row of coconut trees. Perhaps the best thing about it is the accommodation- wooden hutson the beach only ten meters away from the sea. I came here before with Iain and nothing much has changed! Its a very relaxed way of life- you can watch the fishing boats in the day, and then pick the fish you want in the evening to be barbecued.
We went on a dolphin spotting boat trip one morning- saw a few fins above the water but not much really, it was just nice to be out on the water. Apart from that we did very little! Alcohol (beer and cocktails) are available everywhere so we spent most days swimming and sunbathing and most nights drinking in one of the restaurants. Four years ago when we were here there were at least three parties a week but they seem to have died out now- it seems the Goan government is trying to phase out the hippy, backpacker tourism in favour of more upmarket resorts, citing drugs and noise pollution as the reason (spoilsports).
Anyway we had a very relaxing time, as evidenced by our massive bar tab at the end of the two weeks. (Our tab was Rs 4500 each. By contrast our bill for the room for two weeks was half that!) But nevermind, i think it was worth it. We managed to save some money by finding an off license that sold 200ml of rum for Rs 30 (less than 50p). Ellen's gin was more expensive, a costly Rs 35.

So we lounged around on the beach and in bars all week, made good friends and played a lot of cards with the staff of our collection of huts. After seeing our faces when we looked at the tab, the barman gave us our last meal for free- a whole kingfish tandoori style- and all our drinks. He's heading up to Himachel Pradesh to work the tourist season up there so hopefully we can meet up with him and get some cheap accommodation.

Mumbai

We flew into Mumbai, landing around 11am local time. The airport was quiet and everything went according to plan, no nasty surprises at customs and we had our bags, even if we hadn't slept too much on the plane. The first thing i noticed when we got out of the airport was how quiet everything was. I've only entered Mumbai before by train, so the calm, shady courtyard which we encountered just outside the terminal building was a pleasant surprise. We bought our pre-paid taxi ticket and after numerous tips to numerous porters started a long, hot and sweaty 90minute journey into the city.

Our hotel was amazing- marble floors, full ac and more porters than you could count (more tipping required). Mumbai, especially in March, is hot and sweaty and humid, so the air-con was a realy luxury on that first night. The nights afterward we moved into a more affordable hotel, Hotel Lawrence on Sai Baba street, which i thought was slightly portentious as i've just been reading a book about Sai Baba. He is believed to be either God or an incarnation of God (an avatar) or a Saint respectively- the current Sai Baba is in fact the 2nd incarnation, the original was around sometime in the 19th century. Anyway he has a huge and controversial almost cult like following in India, and at the moment he seems to be following us wherever we go! More on that later...

We visited the main attractions in Mumbai, the gateway to India, looking out over the Arabian Sea, and surrounded by Indian tourists overawed with the presence of white people; the Prince of Wales Museum, now called something i will never remember due to the Indianisation policy. The airport and train station have the same name- i don't have a problem with Indians wanting Indian rather than British names for their landmark building but i do think they could benefit from introducing a little more variety into proceedings. I've just looked it up its the Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus, the Chhatrapati Shivaji Airport and the Chhatrapati Shivaji Museum. If that doesn't just roll off the tongue..

Anway Bombay, or Mumbai (im surprised they didn't call it Chhatrapati Shivaji City) is a very interesting city, if perhaps a little hot and humid this time of year. There is a haze of pollution which hangs permanently in the air, obscuring some of the cityscapes from Chowpatty Beach. The pollution's not surprising given the amount of traffic- the streets are choca ith vehicles for most of the day, although the motor rickshaws, so prevalent in other Indian cities, are conspicuously absent- yellow and black taxi cabs rule the roads (although they never have seat belts). The Indian style of driving was proabably perfected in Mumbai. I'm sure it has been covered in detail elsewhere, suffice to say that it really just involves trying to get from point A to point B in as short a time as possible, without taking notice of any road signs, markings or traffic signals, driving as fast as humanly , sometimes up to seven cars abreast over four lanes. However, the real beauty of Indian driving lies in the horn. It appears that the common car horn is woefully underused in Europe, even in the big cities. The Indian people have pioneered the use of the horn as a replacement for other, more troublesome driving skills. These include indicating, braking, driving on the correct side of the road, not driving on the pavement, and all too often, using the steering wheel. Miraculously, there does seem to be some sort of order amongst the chaos, and although dents are quite common we have yet to witness a car crash in India (although i think it has the highest road accident rate in Asia).

When the pollution and the traffic can be dodged Mumbai is actually a great city to look around. It's permanently busy all day and night, in a way that London only manages during rush hour, which give the city a lively pace without it being overbearing. And perhaps the nicest activities we did were the most simple- watching scores of amateur cricket games on Oval Maidan on a Sunday afternoon (the Indian Premier League is in full swing so cricket fever is even more pronounced than usual), or eating dinner and watching the sun go down over the city from Chowpatty beach. Even just people watching in the western bars can be an eye opener- Mumbai is markedly more Western than many other places in India, a fact illustrated by the relaxed attitudes towards drinking and fashion that you see in the scores of young, stylish Mumbaikers (that is what they are called) who come to eat and drink at bars like Leopold's and Mondegars in the evening.

Given all its charm, it was still a relief in many ways to be leaving Mumbai. Our white skin and sweat marked us out as new arrivals- fresh blood and easy meat for the hundreds of touts and hawkers who reside in the city. Also the heat can be overpowering at times, and it's not the cheapest place in the world either.

So we packed our bags, left Sai Baba street (we would be seeing him again soon..) and headed for VT (Victoria Terminus or Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus) for the 11pm train down to Goa, only to find that it wasn't coming to the station. 'Why not?' we reasonaly inquired. 'Not coming, Line is blocked' came the reply, with a smile and a head wiggle. Apparently it happens all the time. We ended up getting a Suburban Train to a suburb called Thane, north of the city, where our train was waiting. I was quite excited about the detour- the Suburban Railway is Mumbai's answer to the tube, though ther's only about four routes. During rush hour a phenomenon which has become known as the 'super dense crush' occurs- you can imagine what this entails. At 10.30pm the train we were on was as busy as any rush hour tube i've ever been on, i can only guess waht it must be like at 5! (probabaly super dense).

Anyway we finally left Mumbai for Goa, on a lovely 2nd Class Sleeper. These trains have not changed in the slightest in 4 years, i was glad to see. You can still hang out the doors and windows and smoke (furtively). More on the trains later they deserve their own paragraph.
So after a not bad nights sleep, we arived in Margao, in the centre of Goa.

India!

So i'm finally starting blog, only 3 weeks late! Nevermind, a lot has happened. I'll try and bring it up to date as accurately as i can.

This blog is really to record our experiences as we travel around India, and provide me with something to look at when i can't remember anything, and of course, to let all you lovely people know what adventures we've been having. So I'll start at the beginning, and I'll try not to miss anything out...