Goa - Bogmallo

The quest for diving in India continued. Apparently there are three places to go diving in India, two are fantastic and one is ok. The two fantastic places are the Andaman Islands and Laskshadweep. Both take a bit of an effort to get to and we just could not manage it on this trip. So that left us with Goa, which is a bit hit and miss.

So we got to Bogmallo and we had not booked anywhere to stay. At the first cheap option no one answered the door, at the second cheap option, well it was horrible. As a princess I don’t do horrible. So that left us with the expensive places as there is no midrange in Bogamallo. Then we went to the dive shop and booked our dives.

The first was to a sunken steam boat S.S. Mary that was about a hundred ft long. We only dived about 9 meters but the visibility was very poor, (maybe3/4meters). We would be moving along and then suddenly there would be big hunks of metal looming up in front of me. My anxiety levels increased, my lungs expanded and I floated up too the surface. Bad scuba diver. I decided to end my dive and I swam the 200meters back to the boat. The lovely Terry kept me company. Terry did the second dive and he said the visibility was better but that that it was not a great, although he had fun messing with the surge.

We had to launch the boat off the beach and drag it back up using logs as the winch was broken. That was fun!

There was an overnight trip to a place called Pigeon Island, I did not want to do the trip and in the end Terry decided against it.

Otherwise the rest of our time was spent relaxing by the pool or on the beach, as there was little else to do in Bogmallo. We had no flights booked to anywhere but figured we might head to Singapore or Kuala Lumper.

Hampi

So we left the paradise of Karnataka and we spent a night in Margoa before getting an early train to Hampi.

Hampi is stunning. It is set in an area that has a river and is surrounded by boulders. It looks like s setting for a movie; in fact a bollywood movie was being filmed while we were there. The photos really do not do it justice.

Hampi was a very important place for Hindus and is the sight of over 800 temples. Many of them were destroyed by invaders and are not used for worship any more but they are still such an integral part of Hampi. As it is a place of such religious importance it is a dry town. So of course all Terry wanted was a beer. We were also looking forward to meeting with Mairead again, whom we had met in Boracay.

Hampi is a great place to just chill, wander around, find a place to read, it is lovely.

We met a couple in our guest house called Maura and Pontus and we hung out a lot with them. We got stuck in the rain at one of the temples. We were stuck for about an hour waiting for some break in the rain. We all booked to-do a cycling tour through the tourist office. It was great but we were all wrecked by the end of it. The first few hours was spent walking to the temples around the main town and we went on a small boat trip down the river. We then got onto the not mountain bikes and started the cycling part of the tour. That was another few hours of cycling. Poor Pontus stepped in some dank water and was fair miserable after that.

One of the locals told us where we could find a few beers so we all went for a bevvy which was nice.

I had to ring home a few times while we were in Hampi but it was very frustrating as the electricity kept cutting out due to unseasonal rain it meant that either the call cut out or I could not make the call at all.

We met up with Mairead and her friend, Brendan. We went to the main temple in the town and I paid a few rupees to get bonked on the head by an elephant. I think she had a cold. Then we went for a wee climb with them to a hill top which historically had been a watch-point. By wee hill, I'm underestimating the sheer cliffyness of the thing. If you slipped you were dead - no joke. We then went for some grub and then Mairead had to go get a boat back to her guest house. Hopefully we will see her in New Zealand.

Terry was still looking for some Indian diving so our next, and last stop in India, was to head back to Goa to a place called Bogmallo, which is apparently the most expensiveplace to stay in Goa.

Karnataka

From Baga beach we went on a two day trip to Karnataka. We spent a night chilling on a house boat. It was lovely slowly winding our way along the river, watching the world go by. We read, we played board games and we ate the wonderful food the chef sent to the boat. We had some form of custard dessert every night and terry became addicted.

We were so relaxed we were nearly horizontal. It helped that the only other traffic on the river was locals gathering sand from the river mouth and transferring it on over laden tug boats (while bailing for safety) to building sites up river. The contrast between the passing boats was gargantuan.

The next afternoon we were dropped of at an island resort. The resort was set in a woods and the accommodation was all log cabins spread through the woods, with hammocks set up on the trees. You wandered through the woods to the most beautiful empty beach, apart from the crabs. The first day and night we were there we meet absolutely nobody else (except staff) – It was heaven. Terry was in his element, a whole gorgeous beach to himself.

The next evening the resort set up tables by beach and we ate our dinner watching the waves and looking at the stars. It was beautiful. We spent the next morning strolling along the beach, watching some fishermen and then we relaxed for a while and terry had a swim and then we were brought back to the real world.

Goa - Baga Beach

It turns out Terry really likes the beach.

For weeks all I heard was “when are we going to the beach?” up to 10 times a day. So imagine how happy he was that we were finally going to one. Baga beach is one of the most touristy beaches in Goa with loads of package tours going there.
We decided on Baga beach because we could go diving and drinking. We had only really been able to drink in Darjeeling while in India.

After checking into a hotel with a really great pool, we hunted the internet and asked the locals where the dive shop was after we wandered up the appointed street multiple times and could not find it. Taxi drivers told us where it was but they too could not locate it. We found out later that the shop closed due to owners splitting it seemed like diving was not going to happen in India. Between looking for the dive shop we hung at the beach, ate and drank. Oh, and talked about where we might go after baga beach. We hoped to be able to go to the backwaters of Kerala but it was very expensive to fly there and I was unwilling to spend 3 days on the train.

We did a small tour of the south of Goa which was nice. We also went to a night market on the Saturday night. That was really cool. The market was bustling with the typical stalls as well as food and bar stalls and there was a band playing. There was a great atmosphere and we hung out there, doing some Christmas shopping till about 11pm.

So, when we realized that we would not be able to make it to the back waters of Kerala we booked a two day trip to Karnataka.

It was strange being able to wear shorts and swim wear after so many weeks of making sure I was covered up. Seeing the difference between how European and Indian women are on the beach was mad. Indian women swim and hang out on the beach fully dressed. Big gangs of Indian men go on holiday together and watch the European women while wearing orange thighty whitey’s. We even noticed the men using their phones to take secretive video and photo footage of any and all women on the beach. Every time went into to water Terry made be keep walking until I was neck deep in the sea! Baga and Goa are pretty much a European sun holiday in India.

Mumbai

So we were dumped in the suburbs of Mumbai off the nightmares bus, miles from the city, in the early morning on a Sunday with an unconfirmed hotel reservation. We were not worried. We really did not do justice to Mumbai for the few days we were there, as we were recovering from the bus.
We saw the new James Bond movie, ate a lot, wandered about and watched lots of DVD’s.
One of the restaurants we ate in served brains but Terry was not allowed to get any as it freaked me out too much.
That was it really for Mumbai, we headed of then on a train to Mumbai.

Udaipur (octopussy country)

For the first time we meet a lovely tuk tuk driver from the onslaught at the train station, he offered to take us on a sunset ride and a city tour. We had breakfast and a nap asap- night trains are never good for sleeping, but Terry also choose not to sleep on the train and to read Into Thin Air (about the tourist tours and a disaster on Everest – READ IT). After waking we went walking about to find our bearings.

We went to a café called Lotus for a late lunch. They had a thing on the menu called a 'Special Lassi', so a conversation ensued about what made it so special. So of course Terry had to try one. It turns out that a special lassi is laced with special Indian dope called bang. Apparently it was actually very tasty. We headed up to a sunset point up a mountain; the scene was set for a lovely rosemantaic evening until terry started to be very paranoid…

So basically we had to head back to our room and stay in our room while terry questioned me for about two hours about the lassi, his health, time and relativity, Einstein, God, comas, and of course he thought I should write everything he was saying down. He is still upset I did not. It was very funny. They should have bang lassi’s at home.

So, the next day we were supposed to go on a tour with the tuk tuk driver from previous night but it was cancelled as he was sick so we went shopping and bumming about getting tickets to the next destination instead. We are getting a bus to Mumbai.

We took that tour of the city and environs with the tuk tuck driver. He took us to a spice market and then told us not to buy anything as the spices were crap there. He took us to the handmaid’s garden, the cenotaphs and to one of the man made lakes. Then of course the obligatory offer to take us to a shop he knows, so we went to a tailor and did buy a couple of bits.

The next day we were all plans to visit the Royal Place but these plans were scuppered when all the ATMs were empty. We took a tuk tuk drive to the other side of the city but they too were out of cash. Inside the bank they are unable access bank accounts and seem only to be able to cash cheques and do corporate banking, which apparently does not involve actual money. As the bank run didn’t turn up any cash we decided to wait it out by getting the cheap ticket for the palace (we had planned on a boat trip with lunch on an island palace in the middle of the lake) and to sneak in the camera as that costs more too. The ATM’s were still out when we finished. At this point we had almost no Rupees left so we go back to get our reserve dollars even though the exchange rate is really bad. We headed to the shop to collect our new clothes and on the way back the ATM was back in order.

Next day we had the worse trip of my life an overnight bus to Mumbai. We were in this small cabin with all of our luggage at the back of the bus. We had no light; with the window open it was cold and with it closed it was too hot. The bus had no suspension. Terry was close to having concussion when we got off, on the outskirts of Mumbai. People were sleeping in the aisles, how I don’t know, and I still cannot talk about the rest stops. Please don’t make me! According to terry the worst part was it didn’t have the IRE vs NZ game and he had to rely on his sisters to send him updates (he thanks both Jennifer and Susan very much).

Agra

So we once again boarded the night train, this time headed to Agra and the legendary Taj Mahal. We arrived in the morning and decided to have a snooze and have a look about. We were planning on going to see the Taj early in the morning, rather than in the afternoon heat, when it it is very busy - following a few tips from Ronan and Fiona in Darjeeling.
So we had some food and then had a nap. We decided to stroll out to a market mentioned in our guide book, Shilpgram Market it was pretty empty of shops and stalls although there seemed to be lots of tour buses, camels, elephants and sellers about.

We feel as if we must have missed something but we are not sure what.
We then headed to the uber fancy Oberoi Amari Villa Hotel for a few drinks while looking over at the Taj Mahal. The hotel and the drinks were lovely and a nice break from the hustle, bustle and horn rule of daily Indian life.
But it must be noted that for such a plush hotel they didn’t offer wifi to people that were not guests although it was freely available everywhere else around Agra.
The next morning we were up at 5am! Will the early starts never end? We were first in the queue for the Taj and we basically legged it in when the gates opened at dawn which was about 6.20. A guy working there made us run along and took some of our photos and then demanded a tip mentioning figures in the hundreds for the excellent photos.

We then ran up to the crypt and after that we went at a more leisurely pace, wandering into the other buildings and watching the sun come up over the monument and the mist roll in.

(twenty mins after the place opened its mobbed)
When we went to breakfast we bumped into Paige and Trevor, a couple I had annoyed while drunk in Darjeeling (‘painting and drinking’ could replace the last bog post) we were happy to see them and spent a while chatting over breakfast and we arranged to meet for dinner that evening.
They told us about their time in Nepal and being charged a fake fee when they got on a bus again in India. They felt robbed by the scam but would have been kicked off the bus if they had not paid. That evening we went on a small trip to see the Taj Mahal from the back. It was quite lovely as it reflects in the river.
The next day we went shopping and I bought my first Sulwar suit and contemplated buying a sari but I would have had to be fitted for the blouse part and we did not have time as we were booked on a train to Udaipur. Terry bought a Taj Mahal t-shirt;)

Varanasi

So we arrived in Varanasi and checked into our fantastic hotel, (suriya). It had a pool and a courtyard with tables. Our room had a bath. We did not use it but it was nice to have a shower without soaking the whole room.

We arrived in Varanasi in late afternoon and we were very tired so we just chilled and ate in the hotels lovely restaurant. We planned to get up the next day and do the whole dawn Ganga boat ride thing but we did not.
We just chilled in the morning and headed to the Ghats in the afternoon. We could not get dropped directly to the main Ghat and we ended up getting lost and ending up by Assi Ghat the furthest one from our original plan. We engaged the services of a boat man and ended up cruising on the delightfully dirty Ganges.
We cruised passed the two Ghats where bodies are burned on the edge of the river, palaces, normal Ghats, and many other boats and such. Apparently there are 365 Ghats.
We watched the ceremony of light and I light a candle and floated it on the river as is tradition. Unfortunately my hand accidentally touched the water. I shudder again at the thought. My right hand is now my Ganga hand.
Terry still will not touch it, in case he catches Ganga hand. The river is so filthy you can actually see fecal matter in it; I am worried my hand will fall off.
The ceremony was cool and watching life on the Ganges River was amazing. We passed by the two burning Ghats the bigger one operates 24 hours a day. When we passed there were 11 cremations going on. The family has to pay depending on the type and how much wood is used. Women are not allowed at the burning Ghats as they are not considered strong enough to behave with dignity and also to prevent women jumping on the funeral pyre, as was once traditional.
The next morning we did the dawn boat journey and watched as people washed in the Ganges. The boatman this time was about 10 years old. I cannot tell you how shocking it was to watch people going through their morning ablutions in such filthy water. Absolutely filthy. I mean there was a constant flow of effluent floating past us.
For many people they wash in the Ganga as they have no choice, for others they wash there because of the religious significance. The men often just wear underpants during their bathing but the women have to wash fully dressed.
I am not quite sure how that works.
We then left Varanasi and headed to Agra.

Darjeeling - TheQueen of the Hills.

Darjeeling my darling. We loved it. We got to NJP and after managing to get past the significant number of rickshaw touts and get to the jeep stand and start our 3 hour, windy James bond road, (but with significant potholes), journey to Darjeeling, the queen of the hills.

Firstly the lonely planet guide map is useless as there are no contours so the roads really make no sense. Because of this, and sheer exhaustion, we got a taxi to our hotel which had magnificent views of the Himalayas.
When I write this we have been to two other parts of India so I feel confident when I say that Darjeeling is different from other parts of India.
Firstly I was not hassled, there was still spitting but way less visible other bodily functions and it has way more of a mix of people and a way less strict dress code. However it is quite cold so one ends up wearing loads of clothes anyway.
When we arrived I needed to go to the doctor for my monthly blood test. I met with the lovely Dr. Das. I had to wait until the next morning to get the blood test as the Lab Technician said that I had to have the test fasting. We were staying in a lovely hotel ran by a Tibetan crowd called Dekeling. The following day I had the results within 3 hours and all was well. It cost a total of 400 rupees which is about 6.50. Dr Das told us about another Cork Woman called Edith Wilkins who was running a children’s home and he told us to visit her and gave us her number. We were not sure whether to call or not.

We spent our first few days wandering about and hanging about with a girl we met while queuing (for 2hrs) to buy train tickets called Sabina. We had a few beverages and lots of cake in Glenarys, a café we would return to for nearly every breakfast and quiet a few dinners and beers over the 2 weeks in the hill station. We saw the market and wandered about the streets absorbing the atmosphere.
We went to watch the sunrise at Tiger Hill. This involved getting up at 3.30 and catching a share jeep up the windy road to tiger hill. We could see the Jeep stand from our window so Terry was watching to see what time the crowd would arrive so we would not have to hang about in the cold too long. Typical stupid tourists we did not realize that the massive crowd of Indians on the road were not just Jeep drivers, touts and workers but also tourists. We got down to the jeep stand and managed to pile into a mini-minivan with an Indian family who were going to tiger hill. The mini-minivan seemed to be run on LPG or something but the smell of gas made me feel pretty unwell and eventually i had to get sick.

The sunrise was good and it was especially good as all of the Indian tourists started waving and clapping when the sun came up. The view of the sunrise glowing off the Himalayas was worth it, as well as being able to see the summit of Everest. On the way back down we stopped at Ghoom Buddhist temple and the war memorial garden at the Batista Loop.

We went back to bed at 7am when we got back to our hotel.
We did the joyride on the toy train which took about 3 hours to-do what I think was a 12 km round trip. The train is a world heritage site and set up a small museum which was interesting. You can get the train own to the main line at NJP where we arrived first, but it takes over 9 hours.

We also went to Observatory hill and had a gander at the site which is sacred to both Buddhists and Hindus, there is a cool temple in a cave. We also decided to find the Tibetan Refugee Centre. After searching for the place for hours we ended up getting very lost and eventually we ran out of road. We had 3 options; scramble up the hill until we came to another path, go back the way we came or go up the path that was behind an not so open gate next to us
So we choose to go through the gate. At first we thought we were in the botanical gardens as all of the trees had labels. We came out into a big garden with a gorgeous house in it and we were still wondering if we were in the botanical gardens except that there was nobody about we headed towards the gate were a multitude of soldiers with rifle, shot guns and state issued machine guns asked us what we were doing at the governor’s house as it was a restricted area. We hastily explained our situation and were thankfully not arrested.

The next day we met a lovely newly wedded couple from Dublin, Ronan and Fiona. Ronans brother the scrum half that is keeping Isaac Boss out of the Ulster team, Fiona’s dad and brother are world (or maybe just Irish I cant remember) handball champions and Ronan’s granny was friends with Edith so I said that I would go with them the next day to go and find the children’s home.

Terry did not go as he was sick – with the lack of cold weather clothes and an early morning freezing session watching the sun, he had developed a pretty poor flu and chest infection.
It turns out that terry and I were very close to the Tibetan Refugee place and the children’s home when we got lost. We arrived during the midst of the moving chaos. The foundation had built and adapted two buildings for the needs of their residential and drop in children. Edith spent years in Calcutta before moving to Darjeeling and setting up the place in Darjeeling and then in Siliguri. Fiona, Ronan and I,(and terry but he did not know it yet), offered to paint some of the rooms to help them get the houses ready a bit faster.
The four of us would spend a little over a week cleaning and painting with Fiona, in particular putting in Trojan work even though she was sick. We were invited to a party in Emma’s house that first night. Emma is from Cork and works for the foundation. She is engaged to the lovely Roshin who put up with my drunken ramblings. Terry did not come to the party as he was sick. The rest of us had a lovely evening with some good food, good company and a good old sing song. I got back to our accommodations at about 1am.everything in Darjeeling closes at 10 so I had to wake the poor doorman up.

The next day the painting began in earnest. 'Supervised' by Omar. Over the week we painted and did the glossing in the prayer room, counseling room, hall, parents are and the music room. Fiona scrubbed clean the carpets, furniture etc. we also pained some metal covers for the second floor windows and a few fire guards.

We were lucky enough to be there during Diwali and experienced the chaos of a few hundred children celebrating their first puja (Indian prayer thingies) in their new home and then being let lose, (while supervised), with a variety of small fireworks and sparklers. It was amazing.
We were at a lock in at the fantastic Joeys pub and did not get home until teen past the 11.

The next night we went for stew at Ediths and had to wake our poor doorman up again. Edith made Terry a separate pork dinner as he told her when drunk that he did not like stew. It was far from that kind of choice he was rared!
We had an absolutely fantastic time in Darjeeling. We enjoyed the painting and the hospitality of the children’s home. Particularly a lovely lady called Shopna who gave us lunch everyday. Edith and Emma were very generous with their time and opened up their homes to us. Poor Fiona and Ronan saw us for abut 12 hours a day. Not sure how they felt about that on their Honeymoon. If you feel like finding out more about the foundation or donating money this is their website, no pressure.
Anywho we decided it was time to head and our next destination was Varanasi and the holy Ganga River. Before we left we had another sightseeing day and we headed to the Zoo, the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute (a really interesting place that had a museum about the Everest attempts),
the Happy Valley Tea plantation and high tea in a posh gaff. We saw snow leopards, yaks, the tiny tent used I the death zone at nearly 19000 ft and how tea is made for Harrods. Never use the toilet at the tea plantation. It is like every festival toilet ever, in one. Seriously.
We popped up to the home to say bye to everyone and the children presented us with lovely gifts. Ter nearly cried. Well ok he did not but I nearly did