Adam and Janīs travels 2005-06
13th Jan 2006 - 29th Jan 2006Holy Cow! India is like nowhere else we have ever been. One minute we`re flying serenely over the Hymalayas gazing through the clouds over Mt Everist and the next minute being mobbed by beggars, taxi drivers, dodging the incessantly honking traffic, dodging the cows wandering across our path (and dodging their smelly deposits which are everywhere), taking a white-knuckle ride of a taxi journey though the cow- and people- and traffic-packed streets of Delhi with its heat and fumes and stench and filthy children dressed in rags tugging at us, people with no legs dragging themselves across the dusty floor towards us, men using the side of the road to do what we normally save for the toilet (we don`t just mean wee!) and cows cows cows everywhere! The cows were what fascinated us most. We knew they were sacred here but somehow didn;t imagine that there would be at least one to every 10 humans and that they would have priority over everything: vehicles and pedestrians all having to dodge them. And their freshly-laid poo of course. Despite all of this it is a fascinating, excting place to be. Were also surprised to see nothing resembling buildings and houses and roads and pavements and shops in this, the capital city. Women all wearing saris or Salwar kameez, the trouser/long tunic combo. This meant lots of stares from men at my western, albeit conservative dress. Off to the tunic shop for me! Saw various historic sites: red fort, mosque, bustling bazaars, did some haggling for pashmina shawls, ate lots of great curries, tried in vain to find a beer until we discovered one clandestine dealer in this otherwise impossible-to-come-by commodity. Then it was off to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. Really is the most beautiful building in he world and we enjoyed a magical sunset evening surrounded by an international crowds all come to marvel at this monument to love. And then we both got really really sick. Spent 4 days on the toilet and writhing in stomach-cramping agony, along with freezing cold shivers. We became very familiar with our Agra hotel room (especially the bathroom, which instead of a shower had a bucket and scoop). On one of our rare trips out of the room we bumped into a Swiss girl we had travelled with in Australia, almost 3 years ago. We hadn`t kept in touch and now here she was out of the blue in our hotel in India, with her husband she had cycled all the way to India from Switerland for their honeymoon. It had taken them 8 months. They had tried to see the Taj Mahal that day but it was closed and we briefly wandered out to see that all the streets had been emptied of their hawkers and cycle rickshaws and people and even cows. The fl;oor had been cleaned and armed police were everywhere. We learned it was all because a "VIP" was visiting the Taj Majhal. The next day we discovered it was Bertie Aherne who had been spared the stinky reality of Indian streets. Eventually back in the land of the living ew took a packed train east to Jaipur, capital of the desert state of Rajastan. Train travel in India is a wonderful experience involving lots of noise and people staring at your and lots of weird and wonderful food being offered up. Endless chants of "chai, chai, chai garam" (tea, tea, hot tea) from the boys moving up and down the train with a teapot and a bucket full of little terracotta pots which they use as cups and which, once finished with, people chuck out of the window, smashing them onto the train tracks below. Spitting seems to be compulsory. Another mobbing by taxi drivers and hoteliers at Jaipur but we bravely fought them off to get to what turned out to be a beautiful old hotel with all mod cons and no filthy unidentified brown smears on the walls unlike all the other hotels we`d stayed in so far. And plumbing had arrived in Jaipur! Here we spent a few days visiting various forts and palaces and temples and the walled pink city, so called because one of the Maharajahs ordered all the buildings to be painted pink for the visit of the then Prince of Wales (can`t recall the year, sorry!). Now they looked more dirty orange but still it was great to weave our way throught the crowded bazaars selling everything from spices to saris, bangles to motorcycle parts. Elephants strolled the streets (along with the ubiquitous cows) and monkeys were close to outnumbering the people. We loved the way ani,mals and humans seem to co-exist so peacefully in India, no-one seems to shoo them away or think it strange that a monkey is eating your cauliflower in the case of the street market sellers. Then we took an overnight train to Mumbai (Bombay) and found we had a compartment all to ourselves and were served delicious curries and rice and rotis and we watched the Indian west coast glide by under the twinkling skies, lulled to sleep by the rhythms of the train. A few days in Mumbai to see the sights, be amazed by the relative modern- and western-ness of the place, stroll past lots of impressive colonial buildings, watch cricket being played on the ovals and of course go to the cinema to see a Bollywood movie. Lots of singing and dancing which was just as well seeing as we didn`t understand a word of the Hindi language. We also took a ferry out to Elefanta Island, passing by the imposing Gateway of India, a huge stone archway on the edge of the harbour where King George and Queen Mary had disembarked in the days of the British Raj. Elefanta Island is home to temples carved from the rock-face, bearing giant statues of the Hindu god Shiva looking peacefully out across the sea. Yet another train down the west coast to Old Goa and Panjim, the former and current capitals of the state of Goa. Here we saw the incongruously placed white Catholic catherdrals built by the Portuguese who goverened this part of India from the 16th century until 1961. Here the people are predominantly catholic and are just as likely to wear western-stlye clothes as saris. And now we are staying in a bamboo hut on the idylic Goan beach of Benaulim. As we laze on our sunloungers, a cool breeze blows, exotic music plays in the distance, women carrying baskets of fruit on their heads entice us with fresh pineapples and mangoes, and we sip cold beer (readily available in Goa) and browse the menu, our biggest dilemma of the day being deciding which tantalising curry to eat today. You may not be hearing from us fr some time.
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