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Goa – Arambol

Monday, December 31st, 2007

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…

The Overnight Train to Goa

Monday, December 31st, 2007

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…

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