Touts, tourists, temples and finally treats

It is fair to say that from the various transport modes that we have used over the last 5 weeks , the train was certainly the preferred option. However , the trains from Goa to Hampi only ran during the day and we weren't prepared to spend 12 hours of a day wasted , so the only option was the overnight bus. With flashbacks of our double sleeper cabin (which involvled close quaters and perhaps a touch of spooning) , the two of us exhausted all our options and finally decided that we were going to bite the bullet and try it once more , in the hope that the overnight bus could redeem itself.

We assembled around Chowdi - Canacona - waiting for the bus and the westerners were out in full force (this was a popular route). The bus arrived an hour and 10 mins late, but we were entertained by the locals , constantly asking if we'd prefer to hop on their motorbike to Hampi (8 hour overnight journey...thanks but no thanks). We hopped on to find that all was in order and after an initial worry that we had the double, we found our single sleepers and settled in. With stiff necks early morning, we arrived in Hampi to a lively bunch of touts ,springing up and down outside the still moving bus and guesthouse cards being lobbed into the bus, frantically trying to get our business. This is a fairly frightening experience , given that we'd just woken up and where not ready for it.

The usual banter with the rickshaw drivers ensued and we finally made our way over to Hospet to our hotel (we decided on lux...air-con and swimming pool). The morning was spent popping into town and outlining the following 2 days. Hampi was to be a cultural outing with much of the Hindu temples scattered within a 10km radius.

A view from Hampi bazaar

We opted for a scooter for the 2 days of adventure and exploring....as always the rental process was painful , but we managed to come to a compromise with Hugo being close to breakdown point with the lack of flexibility from the locals. With terms and condition negotiated , we finally headed off and had our freedom. We admired the rocky terrains, with the historic temples dotted in between under a sweltering heat. A few coconuts were purchased en route , washing was done and returned (although Hugo only realised later the following day that it was still wet), interesting car washing facilites were observed...a pool of water under a bridge was transformed into a carwash, deep tissue shoulder and back massages were had in a local's house and the pool facilites in the hotel were second to none.

The Hospet Carwash (all vehicles accepted)

A brief stop in Hampi, but insightful nonetheless and full of fond memories again. Our final overnight train journey was ahead of us from Hospet to Bangalore. The light was deteriorating, but again we gathered the crowds around for a quick game of cricket.

Banagalore was our Western treat....2 days of chilling, contemplating what we'd seen and done over the previous 5 weeks and enjoying the comforts of the shopping mall. A double header of Madagascar 2 and Australia was had in the cinema. We induldged in fresh juices, ice-creams, shopping, great coffee, newspapers and more movies the following day....it was needed and our early flight to Delhi couldn't come any sooner. We were going back to where it had all begun on the 1st December 2008. The Viru was going home...

Dreaming of Goa....

Time to relax and enjoy the famous Goan beaches.

We were picked up by Geraud at Canacona train station - confusingly called Chaudi by the locals - and taken to his Om Sai lodge. Hot showers in our deluxe, executive twin room awaited us but of course our 'twin' was a double. 'No problem sir, this bed big enough for two'. We were momentarily bemused why he was prepared to give us a room each but we soon understood the next day. His rates were about three times higher than comparable lodges! We moved hostel but this wasn't the last we were to see of Geraud in Goa.

Palolem may once have been a peaceful, hippyish fishing village but it's not now. It has a nice beach but is also full of English package tourists and Israelis who have just finished their National Service. Not two groups of people you necessarily want to spend Christmas and New Year with. So we hired scooters and decided to explore a bit and find somewhere else to stay. We visited Agonda and Varca beaches, both beautiful and in Varca's case totally empty.

We moved to Agonda, much more our scene. Little did we know that Geraud from Om Sai in palolem owned the lodge next door to the beach huts we rented. Not only that but he took great pleasure in popping in every day and telling our new hosts - his best friends - how much he had charged us! Clown.

Let me introduce our hosts: Nilesh and Sameer.

With Nilesh

Two very hospitable jokers. Believe it or not, Goa is very cold at night at this time of year and after our first night we asked for a blanket, to which Nilesh responded 'How many nights staying', which was a thinly veiled attempt to work out if it was worth his while investing in blankets . When we told him we weren't sure how long we might stay, he told us 'blanket, maybe tomorrow. No problem'! Actually, that response was peddled out 6 days on the trot!

He was very friendly though throughout our stay, he even stroked my stomach when I told him I was feeling a little unwell. Tha was probably a bit too friendly as his sexualtiy was definitely in question.

Our huts were very rustic but perfect: light, fan, double bed, mozzie net and three quid a night. Taht said, they were were next to a dumping ground which attracted every farmyard animal. Waking up to chickens, cows, dogs and pigs eating scraps next to our huts was a daily experience!
Now we're both friendly guys and thought we'd chat to the lonely looking Japanese girl over lunch on our second day. Well, she was sort of Japanese. Her parents were from Kyoto but she was brought up in Canada and presently living in London. Interesting story and background. Dan, lucky man, got to hear this story twice but it's not quite what you're thinking.

He woke up later that night to hear his Israeli neighbour playing serenading someone with his guitar. A bit annoyed about being woken, he was wondering when he could ask them to be quiet when he heard, ' I'm Canadian Japanese but living in London"...Sleeping now wasn't an option as there was ammunition to be collected. However, the Israeli's chat was poor and his kind offer of a bed for the night was refused!

As you can imagine cricket dominated our stay in Goa. Our days usually started at Bobby's place - Ashanti - to watch the SA V Aus Test atch. His brilliant staff eventually realised that we were a bunch of jokers. . 'I'm understanding joking sir' was my favourite response!

However, the real highlight was playing beach cricket with with Bhaji, Lucky (real name), Tom and a slection of his 6 brothers and the rest. This happened everyday from 4.30pm until sunset when the chilled Kingfisher beers would be rolled out by Nilesh.

Late afternoon cricket with the boys

Nobody likes to carry cash on the beach and Bobby, Nilesh and the banana lady (Dan had to step in again to help me understand how much her bananas were!) were fine with us running tabs but when we realised we didn't have nearly enough money to settle our debts we headed to the bank in Chaudi.

We decided to use this trip as a chance to indulge in a bit of health tourism and visit the dentist. My teeth were fine apart from the ever expanding Chai stains but the lovely dentist - who subsequently let us use her clinic as a waiting room before our bus to Hampi - informed Dan know that he needed a filling. Today wasn't really going very well for Dan who had earlier visited a seemingly blind barber for his second shave in India. The cavity filled, it was time for the bill - ten pounds for the check-up, white filling and clean and polish!

One of the thing Goa is renowned for is beach parties and we were looking forward to dancing the night away on New year's Eve. We started the night drinking champagne and red bull chargers and went in search of the action. We jumped in to a rickshaw and trawled the places we'd been told would be lively but it seemed the police had other ideas... A bit disappointing but still managed to enjoy the evening.

Goan food was delicious and as you'd imagine involded a lot of fresh seafood: squid, prawns, kingfish, barracuda, coconut fish - what? really?- and tuna. Actually let's not discuss the tuna sandwich I ordered!

Next stop: Hampi.

Kool Kerala

Time to cruise the Keralan Backwaters in a 'lux' houseboat but before that we needed to sort our train tickets for that journey and to Goa for Christmas....Yes, more 'lining please' but I suppose if you've got to queue you may as well do it the Indian way which involves sitting in a long line of chairs and shifting along everytime the queue moves forward.....As always actually getting what we wanted wasn't possible. The train to Kerala was already on it's way and so we could reserve tickets for when it arrived at our station. Instead we had to buy an open ticket and hope we could find a seat... Well we had hope at least....false hope as it turned out but we were oblivious to that so we had dinner and watched more cricket highlights!

The train pulled in a couple of hours late but we'd happily passed the time chatting to 'Frenchie' who we'd met in Ooty. We jumped on and started our quest for a seat, which didn't looking promising if the first two carriages were anything to judge by. Our progress along the train was being hampered by grannies and chai sellers pushing their way past us and more amusingly every other person stopping Dan to touch the Viru cricket bat. No jokes, they just wanted to stroke it! It was almost as though we were carrying the Holy Shroud of Turin, not a two quid bat from Delhi....

We were beginning to despair after walking through nine or ten carriages when we hit the train's kitchens and a nearly empty compartment. Too good to be true?? Of course it was....It was being used as a food storage area and despite our best efforts to talk the kitchen porters in to letting us stay we were booted in to a hot sweaty corridor. There was only one solution - to sit in the open doorway, Indian style... Who needs an air con seat anyway?

There were two memorable moments on that ride, both involving Hugo and a very fat pilgrim dressed in black who spoke no English.... After an hour in the doorway, he asked if he could stand in the doorway for 5 mins to dry his soaking wet trousers. Seems he'd taken to opportunity to do his washing! About an hour later he returned and asked Hugo which was the next station. How the hell would he know? Does really look like a train spotter? But telling him I had no idea seemed to confuse the poor man further.

The purpose of this leg of the trip was to cruise the backwaters on one of the beautiful houseboats but as a boat for the two was beyond our means we were 'joining' with a Saffa family we'd met the day before ....It was a lovely boat and a very relaxing trip but not one of the 'ten things you must do before you die' as described by the book.

The Keralan backwaters

The food however was probably the best we'd eaten in India; a range of delicious vegetable coconut curries and sauces eaten off a banana leaf with your fingers and washed down with a cold 'Super Premium' beer although it wasn't beer but more likely home brew gin.

The Keralan boat cuisine - tastier than it looks!

Refreshed and recharged it was time for the epic 24 hour journey to Goa but first dinner in Fort Cochin with the Saffas..

We arrived at 6pm, having gone with the Super Xpress bus from Allepey and a driver who didn't mess around. This time we sat up front and had a full view of what was approaching us. There was more than one occasion of hard braking and whiplash but we got there in the end. A quick ferry journey across the river and we were in Cochin and ready to spend a few relaxing hours checking out old cathedrals and churches - the Portuguese influence was certainly apparent and we walked past the church where Vasco da Gama was first buried.

We met the South African family near the Chinese fishing nets. These massive contraptions are manned by about 4 men and are a huge nets to scoop up fish. We strolled along and admired the various fish stalls...fresh fish, amazing tiger prawns, lobster, crab, red snapper, kingfish, squid...you name it. The fishermen are all over you, offering deals for platters by the kg - a bit like Borough Market without the pretentiousness. You buy your fresh selection and someone takes you over to a nearby stall where they cook it for you....brilliant. We take king prawns and squid, lightly dusted with Masala spice and some garlic and butter.

We pulled up some seats and waited in the queue for our seafood to be prepared. This was a popular joint and Dan suggested a couple of beers for the wait... A few minutes later Dan was back with a wrapped up parcel and some water...the Kingfisher waiting to be cracked open and escape the newspaper wrapping. It nearly ended in tears...the quest for the Kingfisher lager had us answering to the police. In Cochin you are not allowed to drink in public and the vendor should've told us. Hugo took a slug out of the beer just as a car approached, it was the police and in trying to be subtle by lowering the paper parcel, he only confirmed the driver's suspicions. They halted and quizzed him about it, whilst Dan was checking on the food. Another officer stood alongside side me cursing the vendor and soon afterwards a kid started cleaning as if he was closing up. Now, police or no police we had been waiting 40 mins for our seafood and there was no way Dan was going to let them shut it down before our feast. After a few minutes of pleading and arguing our case I convinced him to keep it open so he could finish our food....it was a close call , we still finished the Kingfisher off and stumbled off to the train station for the double header...Magalore and then Goa....