The Wobble

By now you would’ve gathered that the bus journey was dreadfully uncomfortable. I spent the entire night fighting the urge to pee and also frightful force of gravity, time and time again a bump on the road left me hanging indiana jones like on the edge of my bunk which I figured was a better fate than being spooned by my new peruvian friend!! Eventually we landed in Hampi which as you can see from the photos or at least get some idea from them, is a really amazing place. The first thing that strikes you is the landscape, everywhere there are these giant sandstone bolders, twas as if there was a massive shower of them thousands of years ago. We got the now customary indian reception of a fleet of autorickshaws each touting a guesthouse somewhere in Hampi. Luckily enough Marika, a dutch girl we got talking to on the bus had done some research on accomodation in the town. She said that the other side of the river there were some places that were more chilled out and of a decent quality which would do for me. So off I went traipsing after them buckling under the savage heat I just prayed that the place was close. After about an hour we managed to find a place that had 3 single beds. The place was excellent. Hammocks & a bar – what more could you want? I immediately made for my bed though as I was seriously wrecked. Took it easy that night, went for a little walk later on in the evening but nothing major – had a few beers and went to bed!!

We decided to take in the sights the following day but to be honest you could spend weeks here and not see it all. We took a guided tour through the main temples in the middle of the town, there were monkeys, cows, goats, hens, pigs and even an elephant in this place. It was great entertainment. The place was full of weekend day trippers, I lost count the number of times young boys came up and shaked my hand, asked my name ‘That is a strong name sir’ before buggering off as quick as they came. They all used the same line so rather than actually thinking that Phil Gill is a strong name I think its just a default response they get thought at school when encountering men with incredibly white skin!!

From here we walked up Hampi Bazaare where all the local business people came to sell their wares, it was a thriving market but unlike mumbai and goa they were not nearly as insistent on flogging you stuff so that made it alot more enjoyable. On up past the bazarre there is the largest hill in hampi which of course had a temple on top of it. It was crying out to be climbed so that was our modest target for the day before going to find something to eat. The walk up there was spectacular, you should get some idea from the photos what it was like. For the following hour I wrecked heads humming the indiana jones theme tune – thats what it was like for me
We went for food back in the bazaare – it was quite funny, the place we went into was pure local, but they also had just one proper pan to cook food so we got our food one person at a time, I got mine first but poor adoni had to wait till last, he was wilting big time before they got round to him. We then headed for the last boat back to the other side of the river, missing it meant a 40 km taxi ride to get around so it was imperitive that we got there on time. On the way we were accosted by this tiny little girl who immediately attached herself to marika and myself. She was just completely adorable and waited with us until our boat arrived. Its a little crazy the way that children can roam freely without fear. She sat there though and played away, it really does bring it back home that we are no different from each other at least at that age – she reacted in the exact same way that my nieces would when I goof around with them. Its these little encounters that I am enjoying so much so far on this trip.

That night was another mix of some delicious food and a few bottles of beer. after the bar closed we sent one of the local boys off to get some bottles of rum. with these in tow we headed on down to the riverside for a couple of hourse, talking away under the full moon and stars. From there the moonshine on the temples across the river really looked otherworldly. The only downside was that I has put out to harvest for the mosquitos, the annoying little bastards eat me up. They cannot seem to get enough of the prime cavan beef

There were alot of israeli young people staying in hampi – Its a thing that after they have finished their mandatory service with the army that they take some time off to travel and blow off a bit of steam. To be honest they took over the place way too much and treated some of the locals especially the guys who worked in the place where we were staying with what amounted up to just pure distain – it really left a bad taste in your mouth but I guess it also had the effect of galvanising the group I found myself in. Some of them did however tell us about ‘the lake’, which was a good place to visit and relax in, So that was our mission the next day to find the lake!!

I woke up about midday the next morning with a massive urge to get some motion going in the bowel area, got up out of bed and into the ensuite – for some reason I took a quick look at the bowl, I dunno if its something I always do, maybe it is and because I never see something memorable I forget that I do it – this time as I am sure you can guess there was something there. A little mouse threading the water furiosly, he must have been completely knackered. I reckon he was in there all night. I quickly went outside to get one of the attendants to do a job on him as I didn’t have the heart to flush the poor little bugger away, needless to say the attendant had less sentimental issues, flush flush flush and mickey was on his way to a better place.

Soon after we headed off to find the lake, we passed some wonderously balanced boulders, there were plenty of monkeys aswell playing in the trees as we passed. Eventually we spotted what was a wall in the distant, it clicked now. The lake was a resevoir and a beautiful one at that. We picked a spot where we got hassled first by indians, then by goats and finally by a bunch of the aforementioned israeli party crowd with their head melting techno music. We treked a little up the coast where we could swim, sit around and chat away. Some of the views left us speechless. Of all the places I have been in india and all the places I will see I am sure that hampi will rank high when it comes to sheer visual stimulation. If anyone who reads this has the chance to go there, go already!!!

With enough sun for me and enough of my daz whiter than white skin for my travel buddies we packed up and headed back to the resort. The next day was a well deserved lazy day, I just sat around in my hammock reading my noam chomsky book – ordered food and just about managed to summon enough energy to climb some boulders to get a good view of the sunset. Its a real ritual in hampi to find a place, temples are usually the best and most spectacular and magical so we headed to one of those. It was full of israeli kids, two off them were how should I put it, chemically enhanced. They had a pair of Bongo drums and were beating away on it with the rythym of a drunken uncle at a wedding – I really put so much energy into wishing a monthy pythonesque spontaneous human combustion fate for these two numpties but somehow it didn’t work – we had to put up with the incessant noise trying to block it out while the deepest red sun I have ever laid my eyes on plunged itself into the horizon. For minutes after it disappeared we were left speechless by it – just minutes though, you know I cannot keep myself quiet for that long

The following day was my last day. I decided to go and meet my friend from home in Bangalore. He is working there and had the use of a plush appartment with hot water and laundry – two weeks into the trip I figured it was time for a bit of luxury. So off I went away from my new friends for what I assumed was the last time. I was lucky to come across a wedding type ceremony in Hampi village before I departed for my nighttime bus to bangalore. To be honest I couldn’t even begin to describe the scene, it seemed chaotic at first with drums and dancing, people continuously circling around a happy/bemused couple throwing all sorts of confetti on them. I have some pictures which I will post up soon!!

But that was hampi for me – I loved the place and will come back again some day.

Later,
Phil

The Night Bus From Panji (Goa) to Hampi
It took quite a mental effort to leave Goa behind. I have heard of people spending months on end in that place, time just slips by so easily. By the end of the week I was already in a routine of getting up at 12 to go for a swim, back to the house for a shower etc before heading back down to the beach for food, sit around, read a book before going for a few beers at the shack closest to where I was staying. To be honest Its hard to tell some of the days apart and to be honest I didn’t like that too much. That and the fact that Goa is full it seems of package tourists who are just into themselves so doesn’t really nurture the back packing fraternity the way someone travelling on their own needs, so the decision to leave was made.
Friday morning I grabbed a taxi from Arambol to the state capitol Panji – I even managed to negotiate a fare of 600 rupees down to 400 – very proud of that effort altogether. The trip over was nice, the taxi driver was cricket mad and pointed out a few places of interest. It was a good way to get to see what Goa really is like, its not just beaches and shacks. There is a very strong christian influence in goa that comes from when the portugese settled here and it is still very prevalent in the buildings and the imagery that surrounds the place and as a result (I am told) doesn’t represent true india.
I got the driver to drop me at the bus depot in panji – its was a fairly chaotic scene at first, that coupled with the heat made it a little disorientating but a quick consultation with the lonely planet got me to Pablos Travel agency. Here I booked the sleeper ticket to hampi via bus, they allowed me to store my backpack while I had about 6 hours or so to go off and explore panji and pretty much find out why it is such a hidden gem.
Hidden Gem is definitely not what I would call this town, while it was okay to walk around and the people didn’t hassle you on the scale of mumbai, 6 hours was definitely about 3 too long. I took time out to check up on the internet, grab a coffee and loosely plan the next month of my trip and grab a few extra medication things to keep me going till I got to another major town. I also managed to watch in on a game of cricket. At around 5 o’clock I reckoned it was about time to head back to the bus station but a funny thing happened, the city exploded with people, they seemed to come from nowhere like wasps getting smoked out of a hole – I figured it was the end of the working day and it was some sight. It was also very disoriented, I got lost with a sore pair of feet traipsing around the place
After about 40 minutes I managed to get my bearings once again, oh and I got to nimble on some tasty street food while I was at it. I’m not sure if I mentioned this before but I have decided to go vegetarian for this trip in India, I started off on the meat in everything but had a bit of a toilet episode after some dodgy chicken so touch wood on the veggies it has been fine. Eating lots of paneer food so that will do as a meat substitute until I can constitute the stuff a little better.
I sat outside the bus station for the guts of an hour, started a conversation with a few English chaps who seemed quite sound. Swapped stories about Goa, they were further south than me and had a ‘wicked time’ down there. Sounded like too much like hard work, staying up till 6 or 7 in the morning was not something I had planned to do on my relaxing week at the start of my trip. Next thing we know the bus turned up. Man you should have seen this bus, some effort. It looked like a bigger version of the bus out of scooby doo. Got my bag in first so it was less likely to be nicked and boarded the bus.
After being pointed to my bed/seat I noticed that it was shared with someone else. Can you imagine, a 13 hour trip across some bad excuse for tarmacadam sound corners and up mountains with some strange dude you never met before in the space that was barely bigger than a single bed back at home and about 1/10 as comfortable.

So I lay back on the bunk with my head on my smaller bag, the bigger one stowed safely away (or so I hoped) in the back of the bus waiting anxiously to see who or what I was to share this trip with. I didn’t have to wait very long. Adonai is the kind of person who you hear before you see, with a full beard and and a faux-hippy sense of style he came bounding on the bus and made a beeline for the berth beside me. We made our introductions, christ he was loud and energetic – a south american taz!! It took quite a while to get a word in edgeways. This might seem like a total nightmare but to tell the truth I was kinda happy. I hadn’t really spoken to anyone in the previous week so it was good to have someone to chat to, we hit it off straight away.

I definitely felt out of my depth to begin with, adonai had been all over the world, could speak 5 languages perfectly and had an armoury of stories that had me green with envy. We stopped for some food after a few hours, the stop was I’m guessing in the middle of nowhere. We ordered some biryani and sat with this english dude who was as dull as dishwater, the waiter came over and started to regale us with stories of conquests past – showing us pictures of girls that had come through the previous weeks, whether what he said was true or not doesn’t really matter – the stories he told and how he told them were funny and eye opening for me, we are all the same no matter where you go. Fellas talk about girls and girls talk about clothes or shopping or whatever girls talk about :)!! It was getting on and we were getting anxious about the bus. The waiter assured us that he would tell us when the bus driver was finished so we could go then, I think he was enjoying the audience too much because all of a sudden we hear a horn blast and a roar of some hindi from outside, he gave us a look and said, ‘sorry sirs, your bus is pulling out’, SHIT!!! We jump up, adonai scarpers right out the door to catch it, I went to pay for the bill… At this point I made a big mistake. I bought 4 bottles of kingfisher strong and brought them out and on into the waiting bus. The last person on I appologised sheepishly and climbed back into the bunk. Adonai with his big manic smile (already he is calling me guinness) laughs at the sight of the beer and welcomes me back up into our abode.

The beers were broken out and we began to injest. Kingfisher is a nasty beer, due to the lack of refrigeration in this country they use a preservative called glycerol in the beer which keeps the beer fresh in warm storage but it also gives you a feeling in your head like someone just scalped you with a cheese grater. With an alcohol content on the side of the bottle detailing between 5 and 8% you don’t really have a clue what you are getting in the dirty old bottle.

We yapped away – we talked about music, books, art (I’m bluffing at this stage) etc etc the hunger pangs kicked in again and I took out my half eaten tube of pringles.  It was my only food source so I had to make it last. Still being the generous giving person that I am I offered some to my peruvian self proclaimed metaphysical poet chum. He took the tube ad launched into it cookie monster style, crumbs permeated his beard, It was an amusing sight. The bladder though was beginning to feel full, very full. We were both in pain and it was obvious. We were not alone either, a couple of russian girls on the bus had asked the bus driver to stop but he was having none of it. Time goes so slow when you have to pee, there is nothing worse. I lie, there is something worse. Adonai in a moment of pure genius excuses himself, Sorry Mate!! He grabs my pringles tube with 1/4 of them left, my breakfast… turns himself around, pops the lid and urinates into the box, opens the window and chucks it out when he is done. The picture of relief I was shocked that someone would be so audacious to do that, the cheek I thought!! The bastard he was! The fool I was not to think of it myself… My suffering continued for what seemed like hours before the driver finally submitted to the growing pleas of the bladder busting masses. I scarpered out and in the middle of some ditch in India relieved myself.  At last I could sleep.

We had another food stop before making it to hampi, dawn had just broken and we arrived at another truckers stop not too dissimilar to the place we had been the previous evening. I grabbed some chai and some chapati for breakfast, reckoned it would be enough to keep me going til we reached our ultimate destination.

We made it to Hampi at about 10 in the morning. Everyone was wrecked from the bumpy ride. A welcoming party of rickshaws and guesthouse wallahs were waiting for us, several miles out the road they rode in their rickshaws passing leaflets in through the window advertising their place, calling you friend, pleading with you to remember them once you got off the bus. These guys are tenacious, I guess when it is your livelihood you really do have to be this way. Sure enough on departing the bus a big cloud of dust was kicked up by the hawkers trying their best to drag you along to their place. Luckily enough a dutch girl sitting below us that we got talking to had a tip for a nice place to stay on the other side of town. She asked myself and adonai along with an italian girl called isabella and an israeli couple called adonai and dana if we wanted to join her. We got two rickshaws for the group and our bags and made our way the short distance down to the rivers edge, from here we took a boat which traverses the holy river that passes through hampi. A short walk up some steps and along a dusty, bumpy road takes you to a grand selection of guesthouses. I took a chance to rest some while looking after the bags so the rest could scope out a place to stay. I grabbed a coke and sat in the shade of a very warm hampi morning, I was happy, content, heck I was enjoying this alot…

The photos of hampi and Goa are all up on the photos site, again Hampi is amazing!!!

I am now at day 9 of the trip – time sure does fly when you are bumming around and doing nothing. I am still in that little village I landed in last monday off the train. It is pure hippyville around here, you could spent and I am pretty sure that I have spent hours watching these crusty 50 year old men with hair down to their nether region swan about the place complaining about the quality of german made sitar strings. The other day I was sitting in a beach shack enjoying a coconut milkshake (the place is full of nuts of every variety) when I noticed this dude who last saw the sharp end of a remmingtons back in the 67 talking to this bunch of south african girls – I could just about make out what they were saying – ‘Yeah man, you should check it out, we start playing at 8.30 in the shack 40 yards down the beach’ which was met with much enthusiasm from the girls. Out of pure curiosity and plain idleness I made sure I was in the vicinity at that time, My God they were shite!! 4 crusty year old hippies with the rythym of a drunken uncle at a wedding randomly beating/abusing/violating their respective instruments.
Arambol is really lovely, very pictureesque and a massive seachange from mumbai. Alot of the people who work here come from north india or inland where snow falls and its out of season with regard to tourism. At first they always seem to have something to sell and they drive a hard bargain at first its intimidating but gets kinda fun after a while. I’ve found that showing them pictures of ireland on my camera gets them to forget about their sell and talk more about where they come from which I find is a great way to find out which places are worth visiting. One guy who works in the shack where the south african girls were spent a full hour talking to me about places I should visit where he comes from right in the very north of india. Manali is the town where he is from and it certainly sounds lovely but with the snow falling at the moment he reckons its pointless visiting there until next march. Its right up beside kashmir but far away that there is no trouble. The Dali Lama lives in the next town so if its okay for him then it’ll certainly do for me.
I have found the people who have travelled here to be very insular and into themselves, there is a massive proportion of russians and israelis – they far outnumber anything else. I have met some cool people aswell, there is this guy from nepal who is always on the beach at 4 every day kicking a football around, tis always good to keep those skills sharpened up. Have met a good few people just from kicking a ball up and down the beach. There was even a 2 groups of indian guys who wanted their picture taken with me. One which I will post up later when I get a better computer played state cricket for Bihar – I was embarrased not to know him but he didn’t seem to mind. Their love for cricket is amazing, If you want to get one of them to smile instantly all I have to do is mention the 600 runs they got against pakistan in a 20 20 match at the weekend.

That about sums up Goa, there are so many little episodes everyday that its impossible to put them all up, that I know it would just bore the arse out of people. I am going to leave for the state capital in the morning where I hope to get an 8 hour bus to a place called Hampi which is meant to be pretty cool – its one of those UNESCO sites. I did plan to spend the guts of a month in goa but I think I should get out on the road and earn my weeks in the sun on a beach doing sweet feck all. At this stage it looks like I will be spending Xmas in Kerala.

Adios,
Phil

p.s. one of the computers here melted my memory card reader the other day so photos are going to become less frequent but in bulk – probably…

I am writing this approximately 100 yards from arambol beach in goa. Goa is the second smallest state in india but one of the most affluent. You might aswell be in a different country altogether. After my last post I charged myself with the task of getting out of mumbai – I got up at about 10:30 and strolled out in the general direction of the Victoria Train station. Walking up the main thoroughfare in colaba can be a trying task, there are so many beggers and hawkers that its impossible to avoid eye contact with all of them. Halfway up the road I got stung, this young mother, her kid and their pet monkey accosted me. She kept repeating that she didn’t want money, just wanted me to buy her kid baby powder. She was incredibly insistent and persistent. I ducked into the first place I could to get away from her, but when I got out she was still there. At this stage I gave up and bought her the baby power – it might sound horrible of me that I didn’t do it straight away but you really have to walk down mumbai to see what it is like! If you gave in to every request you would be with them in the slums by the end of the day. I read before travelling that alot of these people are being pimped and any money they acrew from you goes right into the pocket of the local al capone, so I guess with buying milk powder at least you know where it is going. I managed to get a few pictures of her monkey though so there was a bit of trade going on
In the midst of my feeble duel with this mother I ducked into this place called the naval and military cafe. Given that I totally chickened out on my previous culinary excursion I had now found myself as the only white boy in a place teeming with locals (always a good sign). no sooner had I ordered my food than one of the locals sat in beside me due to the lack of space, this upped the stakes quite a bit as I had to now adhere to local eating etiquette. Try breaking naan bread while sitting on your left hand!! The food was v spicey but delicious. I was stuffed after it.
After the food I continued on my way into deeper mumbai. There are far less beggars and therefore hassle outside of the tourist zone. It was a great way to walk in amongst the people going about their daily business. I took several photos on this trip, some mad sights. One photo was taken and it looks like its just of a parked car, this one was going at about 40 miles and hour and missed me by a matter of inches!! Eventually made it to the train station and booked my ticket out on the over night train to goa on the following night. Booking the ticket is really simple if you are willing to forgo 2 euro extra to pay some official to do all the dirty work. I don’t understand people who would spent well over an hour queuing up, prob not knowing what they are doing for the sake of something you wouldn’t think twice about at home.
Next task was to find jean and brian, my friends who had flown in from dublin that morning. After some time missing each other at various tourist haunts we finally met up in leopalds bar and had a great nights craic, We resolved to get up the following morning to go to the elephanta (total misnomer) island – about aran island distance off the main harbour. On the way back from the pub there was one very harrowing and sober reminder of the poverty that exists in that city. A young couple laid flat out on the pavement with no cover with two toddler children in between them. That is no way to exist…
The following morning I packed up my things and went downstairs where Jean, Brian, Ciaran, Barry and Neill were waiting for me. From there we went for some western style breakfast then on to the gate of india once more to get the ferry across. Having been at this site before I was able to dodge them easy enough, the rest of the lads apart from jean (we reckon its because she has boobs that they didn’t hassle her) had their heads wrecked by all the scams. Twas quite amusing to be honest. they have to learn someway I guess.
The ferry took just over an hour and the island itself was pretty cool. The monkeys were all over the place and were great entertainment for everyone. We hadn’t too much time to spend as I had my train to catch so we headed back to mumbai for about 7.
We went for a tasty feed in someplace I can’t think of its name and had a few beers. For 6 of us the bill came to 24 euro. Savage stuff!! Popped into the local sports bar where I caught the first half of the liverpool bolton game. Torres is starting to grow on me . I bade my farewells to jean and co pleading with them to join me in goa but I knew it was a losing battle.
A quick march back to bentleys followed by a shared taxi with an english chap called dave from devon, nice chap but he didn’t get a word in edgeways with my beer talking
Again the station and train experience despite all the horror stories was great. Far better than irelands service. It left on time, there was plenty of food plus lots of officers to ensure nothing funky was going on. I would recommend second class AC to anyone. Though the train journey did have one seriously low point for myself personally. I was up on the top bunk so when the time came to jump up didn’t the crotch in my slacks give way completely – massive 8 inch hole that not even the county council at home would attempt to fill in. Very embarassing. I waited for everyone to nod off to sleep before making my way to the jacks – which reminds me, never stand under a bridge in india!! – to change into another pair – on the bright side I guess you could say it has lightened my load a wee bit!!
The final couple of hours were very enjoyable, I was able to stand in the doorway and watch the sun rise over the rice fields, over rivers valleys and lakes, you could even jump out from time to time when it stopped as it took it so long to get going there was no fear of being left behind.
When I got off the train I decided to head for the beach furthest up north in goa. It took about 40 mins in an autorickshaw to get there. Arambol is the name of the town, its really relaxed hippie vibe. Caught up on a few hours kip in the guest house before heading to the beach and sucking back on a few beers with some food… So that brings me up to date. No more photos tilll I find a place with a USB drive and a decent upload speed…

Please keep the posts and mails coming

Zurich was cold, very cold. I had pretty much every layer of clothes I had with me, on me. I looked like the michellen man carrying a backpack full of battery chargers and malaria medication. Stepping into the station and then onto the train where they had it warmed up to acceptable levels was a major relief, well for a while. With all the layers on me twasn’t long till the sweat was hopping off me again, sitting across from an old couple, I assume they were local I accidentally gave them a wink and then started to take my clothes off bit by bit and putting them into the bag, they must have felt tempted to check their tickets to see what kind of crazy add ons they accidentally signed themselves up for, them online booking machines are forever putting in pre ticked boxes selling insurance you don’t need or on their way to india, pasty skinned irish male strippers, ya know for 5 swiss francs extra you too could travel in style!!!

Plane journeys are pretty unremarkable, this one was long, 10 hours. I have never travelled for that length of time before! In ten hours you’d be long supping pints in the kingdom after a leisurely drive from the breffni. I really started to beat myself up on the plane, I was so bloody nervous. I cursed myself, I hated myself – I figured it was as a result of cursing and hating myself that I booked myself a one way ticket to go to india on my own. I felt so completely out of my depth, nervous as hell – for anyone who has done any kind of travel before this probably seems like idiocy but this was my first trip and before it had even started I just wanted to turn the plane around and drop me back home, back to what I know and understand. I figured the only way to calm myself down, to reassure me that the stories weren’t true that I would be okay etc etc was to talk to the guy next to me.

Now I have serious trouble sometimes starting a conversation with someone I don’t know, with someone I know I have no such difficulties, I could talk the arse off an elephant, erm if I knew the elephant or erm and if he had the ability to converse, well you get what I mean. It seemed everytime I got myself psyched up his bladder gave way from all the red wine he was consuming, eventually I managed it. And we got talking, a lovely guy. He told me all about his home town and how he was sent over to germany for 6 months for training with some engineering company based in bangalore. I asked him if he had far to go, he had a flight the following night to kerala. I thought great, I can share a taxi with this guy into big bad bombay, he’s a local, he could look after me. I asked him which hotel in mumbai he was staying in, he laughed and said ‘Mr Phil, Bombay is too crazy for me, I will sleep on airport floor until my flight leaves tomorrow’. If its too crazy for him, what the hell is it going to do to me. Back into the foetal postion.

From the gps map on the onboard entertainment system I could see that we were close, I looked out but no lights to be seen yet. The twinkles of mumbai did come into view eventually, we seemed to fly over it for an eternity. The city is huge, 18 million people, I looked out with wonder, a little part of me never wanted the plane to land. When it did, the palms started to get sweaty. I got off the plane and into immigration. It was chaotic, there must have been thousands of people there. You could see one or two western people, a couple of hippies but the vast majority were from the sub continent. It was difficult at first to see which queue was which, it seemed to be every man woman and child for themselves. I stood in the queue for 40-50 minutes before getting to the desk. I didn’t mind, it felt like a stay of execution. But there is some order in this chaotic machine, it worked in so far as I found myself out at baggage with my bag all dusty lying out on the floor as if it had a thick expression on it. I took a wee minute to gather my thoughts and work out what I was gonna do. There was nothing to work out but I felt I definitely needed the time to compose myself. I walked, almost trembling out past the pre paid taxi booth and out off the arrivals hall into the thick, warm air. You could almost chew it. There was a stunning bay of people held back by rusty old rail, their hands waving, reaching out to grab you, to consume you. I searched furiously for the guy the hotel were to send to pick me up. My heart leapt for job when I saw him, anthony, a lad of about 30 years of age and 5 ft 6 in height. I grabbed him and pushed my way past all the people. Some of them followed me, they tried to relieve me off my bag, their way of making a few rupees. Some offered no service at all, they just walked up to the car with me. I felt good when I got into passenger seat of that car with my bags in the back.

The journey is not something I will forget very soon, if ever. The way people drive is nuts, complete nuts. On several occasions I was ear flicking distance from the car/bike/auto rickshaw beside me. The poverty i was exposed to on the way in, nothing could prepare me for it. People layed out on the pavement, ontop of cars, shacks built on shacks that look to be on the verge of crumbling. It really was harrowing yet in an absurd way rewarding. I couldn’t help myself staring out at them, its not that I pitied them, in hindsight I do but the shock of seeing life this way just completely stunned me. I thought to myself that I should be taking photos, I am a tourist after all, but when I clicked on the button and the flash went off I felt really bad about it. What am I doing taking their photo, how humiliating is it for them to have some johnny foreigner with more money than sense pointing a cheap camera at them so he can show the pictures to his mates back home or future travel colleagues. I put the camera away and spoke away to anthony. He offered to take me around for the day the next day to see the sights of the city, I figured it would be a good thing to get out of the room and into the madness that is mumbai. But first, I was exhausted. We pulled up in a street just off the colaba causeway and outside Bentleys Hotel.

The hotel itself is sparce. The tv just has hindu channels and it didn’t even have them this morning. I booked an 8:30 wakeup call with the same driver who dropped me off so he could give me a tour of the city. Sure enough he arrived right on time – out into the mumbai sun to see the sights. First port of call was the Gate of India, which is this massively impressive structure built to either welcome the british back in the day or to see the hoors off, this place was crawling with hawkers trying to sell anything you could imagine and more, one man in particular worringly declared that he could arrange anything I want, absolutely anything, wonder if could arrange for the pool to win the premiership or cavan to put a decent run together for once.After I escaped his clutches another hawker, this time a young enough boy of about 14 i’d say beckoned me over, he looked non threatening enough, which should’ve been enough to make for the hills there and then. He had a cap on the ground which he pointed at, once my attention was brought to it he slowly lifted the thing up – out jumps a bloody cobra!! I thought that was the end of me, though in hindsight it was pretty cool to see one in the flesh!!!

After the close encounter with the low bellied kind we headed off to chowpatty beach where a rather intense game of cricket was taking place. after watching the boys for a while I took a stroll along the beach, this is after chickening out on getting some food from the food stalls that are there. The beach would be really lovely if and its a massive if the pollution wasn’t so apparant. there were still people going in for a swim. Braver people than I!! after a while I met back up with anthony the driver. We headed on up to the hanging gardens which gave a lovely view out over chowpatty beach and promenade. I didn’t stay too long there as the hawkers there were pretty insistent on flogging me a karma sutra book – given the amount of people in this place they should really change their reading material, ‘is nice book sir, very nice, no looking charge, see niiiice pictures’ even the deviant in me wasn’t tempted somehow. After there we headed to what was mahatma ghandis old house and now is a museum. Its a definite hilight so far.On down the road and into the midday sun and worse some pretty hectic traffic. We eventually got to this public bath which was huge, the road ran up about 20 feet higher than the actual baths. It didn’t seem right taking a picture but I somehow regret that now after that we hot footed it back to the hotel where I caught up on some much needed kip. On my first adventure at the moment to find some food – freakin starvin.Later

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