Wanderlust Heaven!

Soon moved on from Delhi to Mumbai. Final impressions of Delhi were that it’s changing incredibly quickly – at least suburbs like Gurgaon, where Hasmeeth lives, are in the midst of an economic upheaval. Sexy new malls are going up everywhere and middle-class Indians are consumerizing rapidly. My last night in Delhi, Hasmeeth took me to A Taste of Pubjab, a sashay tandoor place where the waiter asked me if I wanted my gin-and-tonic single or double. And the tandoor fish, lamb, and veggies were probably the best I’ve ever had. A far cry from the little street places I used to frequent back in ’92 while I poor intern in Bombay…

Of course, India is still India. The level of hygiene outside of private homes is tough to stomach – more on that later in this posting, in which I take a long train ride from Mumbai to Goa. And the power cuts in Delhi were both frequent and unexpected – you’d think that the capital city of a growing IT power would nip this sort of problem in the bud. Hasmeeth told me that the estimated system loss in the electricity grid is 40% – whereas the usual big-city loss rate is 5-10%. There are all sorts of people tapping into the grid for free…then there’s the weather, accidents, etc. that contribute to the power cutting out nearly every day, sometimes for hours. Didn’t experience that in Mumbai.

Flew to Mumbai and headed over to Rajan’s place for a couple nights, before making my pilgrimage to Goa. Brought back a couple shepherd’s caps from Ladakh for Rajan’s kids, Avantika and Malvika. Went out with Rajan that night – it was a Saturday – and he took me to the new Hard Rock Café in the Midtown area – which was more of a suburb than a traditional ‘midtown,’ but anyway Mumbai is an island (not easy to tell – a la Montreal) and so crammed that geographical marketing fantasies are being created all the time. Normally I wouldn’t be caught dead in a Hard Rock Café – they’re so ‘70s – although back in high school I did occasionally pay homage to the Boston outlet, which had one of Pete Townsend’s guitars and a concert jacket worn by Steve Tyler of Aerosmith. The Mumbai store had a Prince outfit and a few other pieces of note…but the energy of the place was its real feature. It was crammed with beautiful young things, the bar was the main attraction, and when the song ‘YMCA’ came on the entire wait staff climbed up on tables and did the classic dance routine. A bit Club Med, perhaps, and corny/retro in a big way, but fun nonetheless. And it all got bigger and better as Rajan and I sucked down a couple hefty margaritas (imagine trying to get one of those 15 years ago in India).

We eventually sat at a table and ordered some grub. The menu was more or less what I recalled from the Boston Hard Rock – heavy on the usual US staples. We of course ordered way too much – probably forgot how large US-style portions are. Chicken fingers, nachos, fajitas, and a cheeseburger. Everything was actually delicious – not the usual adaptations of famous US dishes for local tastes. My cheeseburger was very tasty – and I am usually happy to settle for mediocre beef while in India (for fairly obvious reasons). Couldn’t finish everything so packed it up – I forgot to plow into it before leaving Rajan’s place, though. I hope his kids like that sort of stuff…

Next day we went to a couple parties around town. Spending your Sunday flitting from spacious apartment to swish restaurant is a highly civilized pastime – had been away from that sort of lifestyle since leaving work. We first went to a friend of Rajan and Kalli’s – I forget precisely what the occasion was, but the hosts’ flat was beautiful and they had brought in an apparently renowned city bartender who mixed unreal margaritas (as if Rajan and I hadn’t had enough the previous evening). We had only meant to spend 15-20 minutes at this party – the next one beckoned – but we fell into conversation with Jatin and Phiroze, old friends, and I managed to suck down three margaritas before we stumbled out. This was perhaps 3 p.m. We all then piled into Jatin’s SUV and rolled over to Colaba, to the very classy Indigo restaurant/bar, where a party was being held by some liquor promoter and invited guests were Brian Lara and his West Indies cricket team, who were in town for a tournament. I’ve never quite mastered the intricacies of cricket – but Brian Lara is one of the few cricketers’ names I’m familiar with. We stayed at this party for an hour or so – saw Brian Lara, had a couple gin-and-tonics, filled my belly – then we moved on out. At the door we were given promotional bottles of rum…a nice touch. I felt oddly well-connected in Mumbai – thanks to Rajan & Co. – despite my obvious outsider status.

It occurred to me, drunkenly, on the drive back to Rajan’s that I do enjoy these sorts of lazy cocktail-laden afternoons. And though it’s becoming clear to me that I prefer spending most of my time in the mountains or on the coast, in a small town or city, I do need to base myself somewhere reasonably close to a large, fun city in order to have these sorts of experiences from time to time. Food for thought…

That night, Rajan and I went out for sushi at a new place in the city. Decent sushi – certainly not up to Japanese (or LA/NYC) quality, but tasty and safe. I had some jitters when Rajan proposed eating sushi in Mumbai – it was really my fault, as I had mentioned that I love Japanese food. Anyway, what came to mind was an ex-Japanese colleague named Watanabe-san (a scion of the devil himself), who once told me he got brutally ill from eating sushi in the Philippines and almost died. I was able to put that image out of my mind, ate some maguro, ebi, hamachi, etc. and enjoyed it.

That was it for Mumbai – although I will pass through there a few more times before I leave India. Really enjoyed re-connecting with Rajan and his family – have known them for close to 15 years and they’ve always taken very good care of me. And Rajan is a switched-on guy. When we were at the Hard Rock Café we talked about my plans, as if I have any beyond total sloth. He was mostly interested in this Slog – not so much the content (which is admittedly pathetic) as the vehicle itself. Rajan is Country Manager for eBay in India – an important and cool position – and he thus knows the world of e-commerce cold. His general advice was that I should try to pick a theme/organizing principle for this Slog, ramp up the readership, and then benefit from a piece of the ad revenues and other income streams. All excellent advice, to be sure. Now I just need to do something about it – that’s the tricky part. Stay tuned…

Early the next morning I caught a train to Goa. This place – a small state on the West Coast of India – had loomed large in my dreams and plans for years and years. I had first gone there in ’92 with Rajan and his buddies – and instantly became enamored of the place. Goa has a coastline of approximately 100 km (I think), and there are some absolutely classic beaches and old houses. The area was ruled by the Portuguese from early in the 16th century up through 1961, and the European feeling is still there in many ways. There are some stunning old colonial houses, the Goan food is an intriguing blend of Indian and Portuguese – spices combined with hearty chicken/fish/beef/lamb – and the locals are laid-back. Reminded me a bit of Thailand – but instead of sanok, the Goans have susegado, which roughly translates into a doing everything with a spirit of fun. There’s really not much of the usual beach/island tension between rich tourists and poor locals.

I had come back twice over the years – in 2002 and in 2004. Each time, I was reminded of why I enjoyed Goa so much. There are probably more good restaurants in Goa than in Mumbai…the beachfront ‘shacks’ serve up ice-cold beer and increasingly gourmet food…there are yoga studios all over the place. And you can rent a moped or motorcycle for cheap and ride around the state, taking in the sights. Kind of like in northern Thailand, but there’s something unique about riding along coastal roads, hopping off the bike, taking a dip, then having a beer and snack. I could spent nearly forever doing that…

When I left in 2004 I had vowed to return before long, and spend a real chunk of time there. Somehow, amazingly, I had followed through and was back for a 7-week stint in the Indian version of paradise.

Of course, the road to heaven is paved with shit. My train ride there – undertaken to save a few bucks – sounded like a good idea back when I booked it in Dharamsala. I had booked a 2nd class sleeper – and belatedly realized that there were more classes above than below that one. I had intended to book something reasonably comfortable, but perhaps below 1st class. Let’s just say that I had succeeded in the latter mission, but failed in the former. Should have done my homework – at least read my guidebook or asked some questions. In ’92 I had gotten on a 3rd class train from the ‘burbs where I was initially staying, to Bombay – and was surrounded by thousands of Indians commuting to the city. Dozens were hanging out the doors and sitting on the roof of the train. I told my colleagues when I got to work and they were astounded at my craziness. That stuck in my mind…yet here I was, on a slightly more comfortable class of travel, but having to endure a trip of 12+ hours to Goa.

I pride myself on having thick skin and being able to take almost any punishment. That belief was repeatedly tested during the next 14 hours – mostly by the chai (tea) pushers, who I swear went up and down the aisles of my train car every 11 seconds. It wasn’t just one fellow (or I would have bribed him to fuck off). There were several vendors. ‘Chai chai chai’ was ringing in my ears the entire journey. Good thing my family had sent me my mail from the States…I had my New Yorkers, Outdoors, and Sports Illustrated magazines to plow through, and the sooner I killed those the lighter my load would be. You’d be surprised how heavy 15 magazines are. So I read the entire time – which probably saved me a prison sentence. If I had been trying to sleep I would certainly have stranged a chai vendor or two making their way up and down the aisle. Talk about organized torture – the Indian vendors have a trademark on this stuff.

The level of hygiene on the train – at least in my 2nd class sleeper car – was troubling. I had hoped that the operator would take a hose to the cars, but it looked as if they hadn’t really been cleaned in memory. At one point I went into the bathroom and saw a guy doing something unknowable – probably puking, with his back to the door. After that, I kept my liquid and food intake close to zero so that I wouldn’t have to use the toilet before arriving in Goa.

I later met an Aussie named Benji at my hotel in Goa, and we compared notes. He had taken a train from Varanasi to Delhi, I believe, and had similar experiences. He was actually on a better class of car – but had still seen a train conductor/ticket collector heave a pile of spit on the floor of the car (where my friend had stowed his bag), and a seemingly-businesslike fellow passenger blew his nose and wiped his hands on the window curtain. Benji was understandably appalled, but refrained from calling these guys out. He also, upon finishing his purchased lunch, asked a conductor where to throw the trash, and the fellow took him to the car door, opened it up, and threw it out into the fields. Just unbelievable…

Finally reached Thivim Station in North Goa, and took an auto-rickshaw to the place I planned to stay, called Bean Me Up, in Vagator. This place is centered on a veg/organic restaurant of some renown, and has 15 rooms around it. I had a friend who ate there and raved about it. The owner/operator is an American named Lisa, so I figured the place would be run reasonably professionally – which turned out to be right.

I wanted to stay in North Goa, and not right in the thick of the crowds. I recalled that Vagator and Chapora tended to be mellow and spread out, and the views and beaches there were fresh and unspoiled. I hoped that this area would treat me well for the next couple months.

This entry was posted on Friday, October 20th, 2006 at 5:02 am and is filed under Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.