Sunday, April 22, 2007

(Note: Due to problems with Blogger.com, I was unable to post until now...)

We attend Easter Mass at 7am instead of 5am .. .it turns out, we were the only one's told of this mysterious 5am mass. Even the priest giggled at us when he heard about the two Westerners that were loittering around the church for 2 hours before mass.

Mass was relatively straight forward. We didn't understand anything that was said (as it was all in Hindi, or rather Goan).

We jump back onto the Scooter, head back to Palolem Beach, and pick up our bags. We have a quick smoothie at our favorite organic food restaurant, and head out for that 2 hour journey back to Panjim on motorbike. It should be noted that when we told the locals we were riding to Panjim on motorbike, they would tell us 'Go slow my friend. Very dangerous. Many Lorries.' True, its no easy journey because of all the lorries on the road, but the real danger is in the cows. So many cows jump onto the road at any given moment, that the risk of collission is much higher.

We arrive to Panjim at noon and return our scooter before taking a taxi back to Panjim airport. There, we wait another two hours before our flight to Mumbai, and the connection to Jaipur. While at the airport, we become thoroughly familiar with the sport of Cricket, which is in high gear due to the Cricket World Cup. India was shockingly defeated in round 1 by the Bahamas, and now, only 4 counries remain - Australia, N. Zealand, South Africa, and Bangladesh ... my money's on the Aussie's.

We board our SpiceJet flight and land in Mumbai at 4pm. Unfortunately, our flight was delayed long enough for us to miss our connecting flight to Jaipur. It was truly a tragedy. Due to the inefficiency of the Indian Air Transportation authority, we were delayed at the Terminal from checking in, and ended up arriving minutes after gate closure. After 30 minutes of frustration, we decide that instead of waiting around for another flight tomorrow, the next best option is to take an overnight train ride from Mumbai to Jaipur. And that's what we do...

We quickly take a taxi to Mumbai Central Station, and then jump onto a train ride that has connecting rail links to Jaipur. We find the Jaipur train at the moment of departure, and in one of those classic cinema-scenes where the film star runs parallel to the departing train and boards at the last minute, we too jump at the last second - nevermind the fact we don't have tickets. So now, we're onboard the Jaipur bound 18 hr train ride (as we found out to our surprise), with no tickets. Mind you, this is our first time on an Indian rail, so we don't know what in the least to expect.

We decide to post up in first class, and figure that when the conductor comes by for tickets, we'll explain the situation and buy tickets there and then. Well, that was not going to be the case. Apparently every single train in India is sold out months in advance. And even if we had time to purchase tickets, we would have been unsuccesful. So we end up getting kicked our of our nice AC seats by the righful passengers, and instead, get tossed into 2nd, an finally 3rd class. That's where the fun really started.

India rail is an experience for the adventurous. Even if you are lucky enough to score AC Sleeper Coach, it's still a zoo. For those unfortunate souls stuck in third class, its even worse. For every square feet of space on the rail car, there is at least 1 passenger. Which means, there are people everywhere. Sleeping ontop each other, Sleeping on the floor, Sleeping in the passageway, Sleeping in the closets! People everywhere. And let me tell you, it's neither clean, nor scent-free, nor mosquito free either.

We somehow manage to convince the conductor to hook us up with beds, and that's what we do. We manage to sleep some 6 odd hours, before waking up to look out at the Rajhestani countryside, which is chaparell, and desert - a starch contrast to the lush jungles of the South.

On the train, we befriend a very wise 27-yr old named Alan, who teaches Erik about the benefits of daily meditation, and of the core principles of Buddhist philosophy. We spend the rest of the train journey exchanging stories, playing guitar, singing to the children on the train, and ordering round-after-round of Chai and Pokari (the staple fare onboard the train).

Saturday, April 07, 2007

Easter Sunday ...

We get ready for a long Easter Holiday, as we prepare to head out for 5 am mass at the Church of Three Kings in Southern Goa. Afterwards we hit the hig road with the trustee scooter, which we've christened, 'La Poderosa.' Upon arriving to Panaji, we are scheduled for an afternoon flight onboard our favorite airline (SpiceJet) for a flight up to Jaipur.

Friday, April 06, 2007

Palolem Beach ...

One may recognize the beach from the opening scenes of the "Bourne Supremacy." Here, the beautiful sunsets over the Arab Sea are enjoyed by the many young backpackers that suntan by day, and have long pleasent dinners by night. The mood is very relaxing, and the locals absolutely pleasent.

Palolem lies on the Southern Coast of Goa. We decide to head down there after having spent three days in Northern Goa. The differences are like night and day. While the North has the historical richness of Goa (its Portuguese past, the trading posts, and the majority of the local population), it also suffers from some of the problems with too much tourism (higher prices, polluted beaches, etc.). Palolem, on the other hand, is as pristine as Goa gets (and by Pristine, we mean you're gonna see cows pooping on the beach in mid-afternoon).

The experience of Palolem lies in the combination of other travelers, white sandy beaches, excellent food, and pleasent weather. On our first day here, we search out a young German traveler we had met in the Anjuan Market. She introduces us to a troop of Swedes and Brits for dinner that night. It's a great start. Erik dazzles them with ideas of film, music and screen plays. Indeed, this group ends up becoming the crowd we hang out with for the duration of our time here. Through them we discover an amazing organic food restaurant with a briliant menu selection. Plus the local watering holes, which include the Cafe del Mar & Dancing Sheba. On our second day, we take a boat trip up the nearest river to see Mangrove forests, and some of the local fauna ... absolutely enchanting.

In short, Palolem is a captivating beach community that intoxicates you with its peace and beauty. You can't help it but feel relaxed all day as you gaze onto the gentle rolling waves of the Arabian Sea. The locals are so happy to see you and hear your travel stories, that you can't help but make close friends. And finally, the crowds of other tourists will ensure you have plenty of long dinners to chat about those 'incredible' India travel experiences that one goes through.

Thursday, April 05, 2007

GOA...

We arrive in Goa on a hot Sunday afternoon, after an hour-long SpiceJet flight (one of these new low cost, no frills airlines in India). Upon arrival, we jump into a cab and take a 40 min cab rideup to Panjin - the capital city in the area. There we meet a nie local named Anthony, who like many people in Goa, is Christian and speaks a little Portuguese. After a couple of excahnges of greetings and jokes he hooks us up with his cousin's friend of a friend, who has a scotter for RP 200. We sign up, and in 10 minutes have a scotter ready for us. Anthony asked me for my license in exchange (as collateral)... I scratched my head and thought (well, I left the California ID back at home .. so the next best thing is an expired student ID card ...), Anthony took it gladly and bid us farewell. I reckoned any malintentioned man could just as well run off with the scooter sans repurcussions. Oh well ... India is on the honor system I suppose.

Our scooter is loaded up to the brim. This tiny thing is carrying both Erik and me, 85 lbs of baggage, a guitar, a spare tire, and a picture of St Anthony on its front (may he bless our journey). We arrive in Calangute tht evening, and wander into the beach. We don't have acmodation so we figure we'll just crash on the beach ... I mean, it is pleasently warm and breezy. Bad Idea. By 4am, the breeze stops, and the mosquitos come out. The rest of the morning was spent using cortazone to heal a bunch of mosquito bites ... thank God for those Malaria pills (note to self, must check the expiration to make sure they were still good).

The next day we spend with a pair of Italian brothers from Milano. The four of us head up the coast to Anjun Beach, Baga Beach, and finally, Arambol. These places are all fine and dany, but nothing particularly special. The truth is they are full with middle-aged Brits and Russians - not the crowd we were hoping for. Arambol, the last stop, is even crazier. This is the land of the left-over-hippie. I mean, there are seriously hundreds of westerners that just could not give up on flower power, and packed their bags, said goodbye to loved ones, and ended up in Arambol. This tripped out place is something else. Everything about it seems a little too far out there. So after an afternoon of playing guitar on the beach, and turning away beach erchants, we head back to Calangute.

The ride back was extra long, and extra sunny. I get back to my new apartment on the beach, extra well-done, with sunburns all over my back side. Good thing we packed some Aloe Vera.

That evening, the Milano boys and us head up the beach for some delicious sea food, and some King Fisher beer. A brilliant start to a wonderful week in Goa...
GOA...

We arrive in Goa on a hot Sunday afternoon, after an hour-long SpiceJet flight (one of these new low cost, no frills airlines in India). Upon arrival, we jump into a cab and take a 40 min cab rideup to Panjin - the capital city in the area. There we meet a nie local named Anthony, who like many people in Goa, is Christian and speaks a little Portuguese. After a couple of excahnges of greetings and jokes he hooks us up with his cousin's friend of a friend, who has a scotter for RP 200. We sign up, and in 10 minutes have a scotter ready for us. Anthony asked me for my license in exchange (as collateral)... I scratched my head and thought (well, I left the California ID back at home .. so the next best thing is an expired student ID card ...), Anthony took it gladly and bid us farewell. I reckoned any malintentioned man could just as well run off with the scooter sans repurcussions. Oh well ... India is on the honor system I suppose.

Our scooter is loaded up to the brim. This tiny thing is carrying both Erik and me, 85 lbs of baggage, a guitar, a spare tire, and a picture of St Anthony on its front (may he bless our journey). We arrive in Calangute tht evening, and wander into the beach. We don't have acmodation so we figure we'll just crash on the beach ... I mean, it is pleasently warm and breezy. Bad Idea. By 4am, the breeze stops, and the mosquitos come out. The rest of the morning was spent using cortazone to heal a bunch of mosquito bites ... thank God for those Malaria pills (note to self, must check the expiration to make sure they were still good).

The next day we spend with a pair of Italian brothers from Milano. The four of us head up the coast to Anjun Beach, Baga Beach, and finally, Arambol. These places are all fine and dany, but nothing particularly special. The truth is they are full with middle-aged Brits and Russians - not the crowd we were hoping for. Arambol, the last stop, is even crazier. This is the land of the left-over-hippie. I mean, there are seriously hundreds of westerners that just could not give up on flower power, and packed their bags, said goodbye to loved ones, and ended up in Arambol. This tripped out place is something else. Everything about it seems a little too far out there. So after an afternoon of playing guitar on the beach, and turning away beach erchants, we head back to Calangute.

The ride back was extra long, and extra sunny. I get back to my new apartment on the beach, extra well-done, with sunburns all over my back side. Good thing we packed some Aloe Vera.

That evening, the Milano boys and us head up the beach for some delicious sea food, and some King Fisher beer. A brilliant start to a wonderful week in Goa...

Sunday, April 01, 2007

Bombay ...

We arrive early Saturday morning in Bombay. The biggest mess of a city I've ever seen. The town is packed with residents, high rises, and shanty towns. Like all other major cities, it suffers from pollution and congestion. But what realy sets Bombay apart is the sheer scale of magnification of these problems. Traffic doesn't move slow - it simply does not move. The the pollution is bad .. I mean everywhere. Another problem is the cabs. Man, you think a cabbie should know his/her town relatively well. The truth is that Bombay cabbies are notorious for not knowing their way around town. Example ... we jumped into a tuk tuk for a lift back to the hotel (off a major intersesion, next to the airport) ... so it's not some whole-in-the-wall place. We drove for over an hour before the cab ran out of gas ... then he admitted he didn't know where he was going .. dissapointment is an understatement.

The cooler parts of Bombay are definitely tyhe art scene, the old colonial history the Brits left, and the Bollywood Center - Film City. We actually had a chance to visit Film City and met with a leading director (actually it was totally on the fly, and we got really lucky to present Erik's film). It was well received, and hopefully more will come about of future collaboration.

Afterwards, we headed back to the airport, and caught a flight down to GOA .. hopefull;y, more chill & less dirty.