Goa II: Anjuna: Boys, Beaches and Bed Bugs

We're hardly in Anjuna 2 minutes and I'm won over already. It's sunny, we have a super cheap place to stay and the beach is merely but a few minutes away. Bliss. It's off-season here too, so there's not so many tourists about, which means the beach is relatively quiet. And therefore I can brave the bikini for the first time.

After an afternoon nap, we decide to explore, and after dodging some particularly persistent market stall holders ("I give you good price; ASDA price. 2 for 1, cheaper than Primark" etc) we head to the beach. More specifically a beach bar. And unsurprisingly, that's us there for the night, drinking Kingfisher, watching the sunset and chatting with other travellers. I spend most of the evening talking to an ever-so-lovely Swiss guy (who shall remain nameless) and end up staying at the beach with him late in to he night talking (good looking and can hold an intelligent conversation! oh my!) having more drinks, and going a late-night paddle. I can't quite pinpoint what it is, but Swiss seems different to a lot of the guys I tend to meet; just different. I could go on, but I shall spare you the details.

Alas though, our fairy tale romance (!) never quite takes off as he has to leave the following day. So, as I bid farewell to my one-day boyfriend, I console myself by doing the one thing that always makes me feel better. Shopping. The flea-market at Anjuna is theee place to be on a Wednesday; teeming with market stalls selling anything and everything, and ladies trying to coax us over to their stalls with shouts of "hey Indian Barbie" and "White Chicken, come look on my shop!". Some are a bit more foreceful than other, and literally grab and pull at us until we agree to look. Needless to say, I leave the market happy with a substantial little bundle of stuff, from bangles to beads, all which cost mere pennies.

Back at our guest house, we are just settling down for the night when both of us are startled in to bolt-upright position by a little "thud" on the pillow between where are heads are laid. To our total surprise, a lizard has fallen off the ceiling and landed in between us. To be honest, I'm not sure who's actually more shocked; us of the lizard. And thats' only the start of it. Turns out, we are staying in a total rat -pit. The place is crawling. Ants, lizards, moths, crickets, spiders. David Attenborough's wet dream.

After a night of sleeping with one eye open, completely covered from head to toe, we resolve to find a new place to stay in the morning. Preferable one that's creepy-crawly free. And perhaps closer to the beach. I am determined to wake up early enough for a sunrise swim at least once....

Goa: Part I - Amputees, Feni and Scooter Sillyness...

Our train to Goa from Mumbia is eraly in the morning, so we're up with the birds (and rats, stray dogs, degenerates, cats, cows etc) and off the the station. Strangely, the train station in Mumbai is one of the nicest buildings that it has to offer, and looks even more beautiful first thing, when the sky is a deep blue colour and the moon is still out. Our walk to the station isn't quite to nice though; after practically having to sprint to escape a rabid dog baring its rotten wee teeth at us, we are faced with literally hundreds of people sleeping on street corners, benches, shop doorways, kerbs; pretty much anywhere they can find.

Inside the station is even stranger, and there is a real mix of people around; commuters, market traders, schoolkids, a white lady being violently sick in to a bin, and even a disproportionate number of amputees (if you'll excuse the expression), who can only use there arms to drag themselves across the grimy floor. Needless to say, we are glad to be escaping Mumbai.

We find our seats (which resemble a couple of slabs of concrete inside a prison cell) and set off of the epic 14 hour journey to Panaji. The outskirts of Mumbai are absolutely fascinating, and despite being knackered, I can't take my eyes off the scenery; there are makeshift tarpaulin houses, shanty towns, slums, corrugated iron lean-to's (which house massive families!), people sleeping on the train tracks and platforms. As we get further away from the city, the scenery becomes a lot greener, and we see lots of lush forests, rivers, mountains, and paddy fields. Much easier on the eye!

We finally arrive in Goa, and decide to spend a couple of nights in Panaji, which is little town just inland from the beaches and the coast, set on a large river. It's scenic enough (anything is an improvement on Mumbai) and has a fairly relaxed vibe with lots of European influence, which can only mean one thing. Time to get the drinks in. After the stress of Mumbai, lord knows we need it!

Along with shopping and sleeping, sampling the local alcohol is our main activity in Panaji. We (typically for me and Lisa) even befriend the local off-license owner (Maroj/Masood/Joshi...I forget his name) and are invited to be his guests for a few fenis, which is the local cashew fruit liquor. We throw caution to the wind and accept, and a good few drinks later I find myself driving around Panaji on a scooter, with Maroj/Masood/Joshi clinging on behind me, barking directions in my ear. Perhaps not the best idea I've ever had. But hey - this is India. Logic and reason is officially redundant here.

The morning after our feni-fest (this sounds a lot dirtier than it was...) we are awoken ridiculously early by Maroj/Masood/Joshi banging on our door. We've been summoned for a brisk walk on the beach. Theoretically this is a lovely idea; to watch the sunrise, paddle, and wander dreamily along the sand. Realistically, this is never going to be the case. I am tired, crabbit, and look like a burst couch. But nonetheless we manage, and it's a blissful walk. The morning sun melts away my huff, and we enjoy our stroll. The water is cool , the breeze soft and the beach quiet apart from a few joggers (overkeen if you ask me) and men casting out fishing nets from the shore.

Despite being fairly relaxed, Panaji is essentially a town so we decide it's time to go to the beach. For a few days at least, I want to lie on the sand, read, swim and attempt to get a tan, and not have to think about one single thing.

Next stop, Anjuna!

Mumbai: Slums, Angry Monkeys and Rivers of Shit

Mumbai... What a total assault on the senses! After an epic flight, me and Lisa arrive in Mumbai, and are thrown right in at the deep end. It's rush hour, so the chaos is intensified; there are people crammed everywhere, cars veering in every direction, slums (the largest is right by the airport - an interesting welcome to the city...), shacks, dilapidated buildings, cows, crows, sheep, thick smog, huge heaps of rotting rubbish, rivers of shit....you name it and I'm pretty sure Mumbai has it. Wide-eyed, we take a taxi in to the centre, completely in awe of our surroundings. The heat and humidity is totally overwhelming, the smells are suffocating (namely shit, piss, and rubbish) and the poverty is relentless. There are people sleeping on every available bit of ground, performing their morning ablutions at the side of the road completely oblivious to anything else, scraping around in dirt, defecation and rubbish.
It doesn't matter what you hear or read about Mumbai; it's only when you see it - see slum babies and children filthy and begging - that you can even slightly understand the reality of this place.

We're staying in area of the city called Fort, which is allegedly one of the nicer parts (though judging by the myriad of rats, stray dogs and cats, faeces and mysterious smells, I'm not so convinced). Nonetheless, we resolve to make the most of Mumbai, however intimidating it is.

Our first expedition is to the Gateway of India, an Arc-de-Triomphe style structure right down by the water. It's certainly very beautiful, and the breeze off the water offers a little respite from the stifling heat (it's unbearable...I barely need to walk 30 seconds and I'm sweating). After a couple of chai's, we decide to take a boat trip out to Elephanta Island, about 1 hour off the coast. Albeit scorching hot, Elephanta is a lush island, with a series if intricately carved Hidni caves dating back to 4AD. Really beautiful, although we did have to contend with stray dogs, wild goats, ferocious looking monkeys with fangs (who kept stealing water from people...cue me and Lisa being pathetic and clinging on to one another) and worst of all, of people asking to have their picture taken with us. Yes, really. In India, we are the ethnic minority. We provoke stares, points and comments, and people want their photo with us. Some even sneakily do it when they think we can't see them. Very strange indeed.

Back on dry land, we dodge a variety of beggars (I'm sure they are being trained in the art of begging; they are stealthy, prepared and persistent) and head to the market. Instead of a relaxing afternoon of perusing actual-Indian-tat, it becomes and arduous task. You as much as make eye-contact with a trader and they've got you adorned in bangles, beads and shawls. Impossible!

Luckily, one aspect of the city that doesn't let us down is the food. Curry heaven. And it's ridiculously cheap too - a couple of pounds for a meal in a restaurant. Though it's a difficult experience, being a female going out to a restaurant in Mumbai. They are completely male-dominated, and in the 3 nights we are there, we never see another woman dining out. Generally, after some whispering, staring and questioning we can eat in peace, although one night we are given a particularly hostile reception; a couple of younger guys start throwing bits of food at me, and I'm pretty sure the waiter has to restrain an older male customer from lunging and spitting at Lisa.

With our time here drawing to a close, I am glad we have braved the insanity and seen what the city has to offer, although I doubt we'll be be rushing back any time soon. 3 nights is plenty!
It really is a city of incomprehensible contradictions; next to some of the worst slums imaginable, skyscrapers are appearing. Alongside ancient monuments, there are mountains of rubbish. Sacred temples share streets with human shit. Mumbai, you are a headfuck!

So we bid farewell to the stagnant, dirty, grimy dystopia, thankful to be leaving the madness behind us. Onwards to tropical Goa... :-)