India

Mumbai, September 22nd 2010

And so to truly complete a journey, a return to where one started is necessary. The great plaza before the Gateway to India dominates the sea; the re-opened Taj Mahal Hotel dominates the city skyline. A full moon hangs low, smudged in the smoke and dreams of this optimistic, energetic city. People chant to Ganesha, whose festival must be close to over now; fireworks explode in the darkening sky before me, sending the stray dogs running for cover.

I sit and write while people and families pass by. A man comes to talk to me, he is from Margao, in Goa. I feel connected, grateful; as the leaving-anxiety slowly changes into a serene sense of happiness, all my frustrations and criticisms of this incredible place melt away. I will not finish my essay of a blog entry attempting to decipher, disect and lampoon India - better writers than I have done it already, many times over.

There is time for one last stroll, to gaze out to sea where the lights of the merchant ships gleam, evoking memories of my sister, so impossibly distant from me right now. Were it not for her I would not have come on this journey. I raise my last bottle of water to her, somewhere in the Atlantic.

Time to go, now. Goodbye India.

Goa rains

The bus from Rishikesh to Delhi was an Uttarakand bus, so naturally it had to break down. Eventually I reached the hustling, bustling capital to find it swamped with monsoon floods: at one junction a woman tried to hold some of her sari above the waist high water as she struggled to wade past an abandoned bus, water inside and outside it. Water everywhere. Kashmir Gate was under water, and tuktuks were refusing to take passengers, understandably, so I got to experience Delhi's shiny new Metro for the first time - luckily nothing had leaked there! The next day I picked Lara up from the airport, the what followed were an amazing ten days together.

We train hopped to the Taj Mahal at Agra, then to Varanasi, where we spent days wandering ghats, hung out with Nick and got rowed across the river to see the other side of the city. Varansi was one of the highlights of my trip: the people there were very friendly and more genuine than many other places I've been here. This set the mood for the experience of the city itself: intense devotion to religion and ritual everywhere you look; compact, twisting streets; signs in Hindi and Tamil; and as Nick observed, the biggest urban cows we've seen anywhere. As with other holy places, the cows are better looked after too: the large black one that hung out at the end of our guest house sidestreet could have been a roadblock if she wanted to. Instead she simply hung out.

After Varanasi, we visited Orchha, a quiet village in Madyar Pradesh known for its temples, palaces and wildlife sanctuary. Then before I knew it, it was time to head back to Delhi, to the airport.

The next week was difficult: alone again. I'd traveled with other people for months - first with Nick, Trevor and Rotem, then with Lara. I'd forgotten how easy it was to get caught up in thoughts - sometimes not good ones - when you've only yourself for company. How easy it was to feel lost in a huge country like India, when you can't find anywhere to stay for less than 500 rupees after getting off a train at 5am in a city whose only awake inhabitants are scores of tuktuk drivers that follow you down the road demanding you use them to take you somewhere. It sucks when it takes you two hours of walking around with your backpack on to find somewhere to stay for one lousy night in one lousy city. Nagpur is an expensive, boring place.

After Nagpur, another train to Hyderabad, a massive improvement on Nagpur matched by an improvement in my mood. A more cosmopolitan city than Mumbai in my opinion - a subcontinental meeting point where all signs are in Hindi, Telugu, Urdu and English. Hyderabad, city of lights, city of culture, city of technology. (Okay, so they haven't sorted out reliable electricity there yet, but where in India has?) Visiting the Salar Jung Museum gave me faith in Indian museums again after the let-down of Delhi's National Museum: a massive variety of exhibits, mostly stemming from the illustrious SalarJung III's private collection - Grecian sculptures (including Veiled Rebecca - google it if you don't know it), paintings by European artists alongside Indian modern art, and much more.

Then from Hyderabad, finally, to my last destination in India: the coastline of tropical Goa. It was time to rest my eyes on the sea again, and this time to swim in its waters...

It's been raining in Goa, quite a lot. It's monsoon season. Still, after the small-town fun in Panaji, I've reached the tiny village of Palolem and its small but perfectly formed beach. Today it didn't rain while I was on the beach, and I bathed my worn out body in the soothing salt water, letting the waves push me around. Here close to the end of my wanderings in India, I am content.

Valley of Flowers; the Ganga retreats...

As the worst flooding in 80 years hits many parts of Northern India and Pakistan, we return to Rishikesh to find the mighty Ganga subdued. Has Shiva been appeased by the millions of pilgrims here to worship him? Or are the freak weather systems that have flattened half of Leh all the way down to Pang in Ladakh just that, freak weather systems that have come and gone? Perhaps global warming is to blame. It is certainly true that as the total energy in our weather system increases, the intensity and frequency of storms and flooding will also go up. Look to Venus for the end result of a runaway greenhouse affect.

We've returned from the Valley of Flowers in northern Uttarakand, in the foothills of the Himalaya. Getting there was quite an adventure, involving sweltering local buses that were held up for hours by landslides or broke down with impressive regularity. For some reason buses in Uttarakand only leave very early in the morning, so we grew used to getting up at 6am! After reaching Joshimath, a small town in the mountains where we stayed the night, we got a shared jeep to Govinghat, where the walking began: a 13km hike up-hill alongside the river, one of the Ganga's tributaries, to the one street town of Ghangaria. This was hard work with our backpacks on, but only took us 5 hours (the LP reckons on 7!), so we were quite pleased with ourselves when we reached the top. (An Indian girl asked Rotem if she was an athlete!) After staying the night in Ghangaria, with its 3 hours of electricity in the evenings and erratic water supply, we made the final 3km ascent to the Valley of Flowers...

Only to find the entrance cost wasn't 350 Rs, as the LP (2010 edition) claimed, but 600 Rs.

Of course, this was only the foreigner price - Indians get in for 100 or so.

We were understandably a little shocked by this price - the highest any of us have encountered for an admission price outside of the Taj Mahal, and the daily budget for many backpackers. However, having come all this way, we decided to take it on the chin and go up to the valley.

The Valley of Flowers certainly lived up to its name. Miles of flower-filled meadows patrolled by lazy bees, lit by the hesitant sun who peeked out from behind the clouds to brighten our day. We walked the length of the valley where there are flowers, then turned back and returned to Ghangaria for the start of the long trek back to Rishikesh.

So, is it right to charge foreigners more than Indians? If so, how much more is reasonable? My own thoughts are that it isn't a bad idea - that local attractions should try to attract local people to experience them, as it's a part of where they live. So many people I've spoken to agree that often the places you never explore or visit (for no real good reason) are those closest to home, and it's a shame. Also, it is true that many foreign visitors are better off than many Indians - this is something that is changing quickly though; I'd bet my backpack most of the Sikhs we met on their way up to Hem Kund had more money than all of us put together. So, there have to be sensible limits to this system. When the price is 6x or more what local people pay, for no good reason, it becomes just one more scam added to a long list of them in this country. I would not recommend to backpackers on any kind of budget to go to the Valley of Flowers, as it simply isn't worth the entrance price. Which is a shame, because it's still a beautiful place to see.

In other news, I can now read most signs written in Devanagari (the script used to write Hindi), which has proven useful a couple of times with buses. I've found it to be quite difficult to learn, mostly because of the many varieties of "marks" - e.g. vowel marks, "n" marks, the nasal mark, and so on, and also because some conjuncts (consecutive consonants like in hindi) are letters in their own right, and there are already 53 or so basic letters. It's interesting though, writing in a script completely different to your own alphabet, and it's definitely rewarding when you get some practical use out of it.

It's been a while...

Partly I've not updated due to lack of internet in some of the places I've been, partly because I've been feeling quite a lot of negative things about India in general lately. So, what have I been up to?

After hitching to Manali, we spent a week there then headed south to the Parvati Valley, where we did some village hopping. First of all Jari, a tiny place with some beautiful walks in the hills around it, then to Manikaran. Manikaran was one of my favourite places so far, a pilgrimage destination on the mighty Parvati River which amazed me with its sheer power. In Manikaran are many hot springs and temples, including a massive multistorey Gurdwara (Sikh Temple). The Gurdwara was the first temple in India where I've left feeling positive about it (with the possible exception of the Haji Ali Mosque in Mumbai). Inside there is a big food hall where people are given free food and chai, and upstairs are communal sleeping areas where people can stay. The temple is a decent size but no larger than the more worldly areas. Oh and there's a hot swimming pool fed by the town's springs.

We spent a couple of days in Manikaran, then left to find smaller places again. First Pulga, about an hour's walk up into the hills from the road (including crossing one of the many new hydro dams in HP). Pulga was quite rainy, so we spent a lot of time hanging out with the Israelis playing chess and cards. Then after Pulga we headed further east along the valley to Tosh, another tiny village, where we spent a night before heading back west, stopping at Kasol. My initial impressions about Kasol when we went through it after Manikaran turned out to be hasty (I got stung by a wasp and took an immediate dislike to it!) - Kasol is actually quite a nice place, very cheap but with excellent places to eat and stay, and some really fun walks in the valley and woods around it.

After Kasol it was time to say goodbye to Himachal Pradesh. I felt quite emotional as our bus finally arrived in Chandigarh, capital of the Punjabis, as I really enjoyed my time in Himachal Pradesh with its friendly people and amazing scenery.

Chandigarh was another interesting stop. It is a planned city, kind of like Canberra in the ACT, also quite like American cities - the streets are laid out in a rigid grid. Different areas are called sectors, so the bus station near the centre is called Sector 17, and we stayed in a cheap hotel in Sector 43. We visited the Nek Chand Rock Garden while in Chandigarh, supposedly the second most visited tourist attraction in India after the Taj Mahal. Indeed it was worthy of the many tourists it attracts - an impressive and beautiful walk through lots of different rock sculptures, waterfalls and other interesting collections, finishing in an open area with swings and camel rides. It was on returning to the plains (and leaving HP) that the annoyances of India went back to full power though - rude stares became the norm; people photographing and filming us wherever we went; men copping feels of Rotem the moment she was alone.

Now we are in Rishikesh, and we arrived at the same time as a large Shiva festival, which has had both good and bad aspects to it. The massive press of people isn't annoying of itself, but it does mean even more unwanted attention. Some days it's funny, other days it can really wind you up and you walk around battling not to write off all Indians (or Indian men anyway) as rude, greedy, unthinking sheep people. I've still enjoyed Rishikesh despite this: the mighty Ganga fills you with awe as you watch it thunder past the town, moving at something like 30mph. Sometimes a huge wave will make the entire river rise by a meter, swallowing up trees and islands, before settling back down again minutes later. As evidenced by the chaos in Delhi and the catastrophe in Pakistan, the monsoons have come later, and harder, this year. Perhaps Shiva is angry. Perhaps he is considering his Dance of Destruction...

Next we're heading to the Valley of Flowers. After that it will be time to return to the blistering heat and chaos of Delhi, to meet my beloved at the airport. It can't come soon enough.

Hitchhiker's Guide to the Himalaya

Leh -> Upshi -> Pang -> Keylong -> Sissu -> Manali

Start: Bus from Leh to Upshi, a couple of hours, 45 rupees. Upshi is a small truck stop south-east of Leh, with a few small cafes and a single guest house (dorm, so we had our own beds - luxury!). The next day we decided to try hitching, but we missed most of the trucks leaving (early morning) so decided to leave the town and start walking up the road into the hills towards Gya, hoping to either get a lift or hike all the way to the next town, which would have taken all day probably.

Luckily we got picked up within an hour by a truck full of road workers (either police or military). We climbed into the back with the workers and got a lift some of the way to the next town, but then it stopped and they got out to work on that part of the road. Luckily another truck came along and they were going all the way to Pang, over two of the high passes! We were in the back of the flatbed the whole way, and at the first pass it started to rain and snow a bit so we pulled a tarp over our heads to keep the worst of the weather out. We got lucky too, as the pass was blocked by a landslide, but we got to the blockage just as a couple of bulldozers were finishing clearing it so only had to wait 15 minutes or so.

The trip to Pang took quite a few hours, the most beautiful of which was the huge open valley/plateau before the road descends to Pang. The sunshine on the mountains and hills looked stunning, and we waved at the nomads who live there in tents with their goats and horses as we drove past. One day I'd love to go back there, hike halfway up one of the hills, and just camp for a week in the middle of that striking open wilderness on the roof of the world.

Descending to Pang at last, we hopped off the bus, shook hands with the driver and slept in a parachute cafe/hotel. These are basically a big tent with a smaller section at the back where travelers can sleep on rough beds for the night - usually truckers we reckon, but the night we were there we met an Aussie couple who were cycling to Leh from Manali! There's always someone more hardcore than you...

Pang is the highest transit camp in the world apparently, and you could believe it with how short of breath you could get just from jogging back from the toilet outside! The next day we started to descend though, this time in the front of a truck driven by a Kashmiri called Sanjay who liked his bidis as much as Nick. I'd never been in the cab of a truck before so it was quite an experience - three of us crammed onto the driver's bed behind his driving seat, with our feet resting up on the dashboard under the windscreen. As before, it was another long hard leg - including the state border crossing from J&K into Himachal Pradesh. I remembered from going the other way that this pass was one of the hardest in terms of the road - something like driving on the surface of the moon, the road is basically fucked - cracked, cratered, with streams running all over it, bits of rocks and boulders, and often a sheer drop on one side with bald, barren, jagged mountains all around. At one point near the top there is snow everywhere which is beautiful, and reminded me of the train from Oslo to Bergen in Norway.

Eventually, the twisted, broken road improves again as it descends back down, slowly, towards Keylong, and the landscape gradually changes - becoming greener, becoming Himachal Pradesh instead of Ladakh. We reached Keylong just in time to find a guest house and get food in the evening, and spent the next day exploring the town. Keylong is halfway up a big valley, with big rivers running down from the mountains on two sides and rambles up and down the hills and valleys all around it. After a day there we discovered there was no way to withdraw money, which me and Trevor were running low on, so we decided to hit the road again.

The next day's hitching was a bit more sporadic. Our first ride with the three of us and our packs rammed into the back of a small minibus took us to the next town along after Keylong, then we got a lift from an army truck carrying massive tanks of water to a base further again (Nick got very wet from the water splashing out on every bump in the road), then finally hit jackpot on another flatbed that took us to Sissu. It was a relatively short leg in our journey because we didn't want to go all the way to Manali in one day, but again we had some great views of the green valleys from the back of the truck, perched on the spare tire.

Sissu was a sleepy farm village, where we met a local guy who was studying architecture and seemed very happy to have some tourists to chat to. His English was excellent and he knew loads about the area, so we learned about the languages, culture and history of the region, how the village was self-sufficient and had to stock up 6 months supply of food because all of the places between Manali and Leh are completely isolated by snowfall in the winter. The only way out for someone who's seriously ill or needs to get to a city in those 6 months is by the government subsidised helicopter that can pick people up from a helipad at the bottom of the valley.

After being awoken by a cow in need of milking outside our window, we tried hitching to Manali but found out the road was blocked again (landslides are still fairly common at this time of year), so had to pay 100 rupees for a jeep to take us a far as the blockage in the road, just over on the other side of the Rohtang Pass. A massive queue of vehicles was parked up waiting for it to be cleared, but we were told it was possible to walk around the landslide and grab a lift on the other side of it. So, off we walked down the side of the mountain, following the trail of locals with pack horses going up and down a rough goat path amongst the boulders. As we descended to the road on the other side of the landslide, a dynamite blast shook the heavens above us and echoed loudly off the opposite side of the valley seconds later, and the work to clear the rubble continued. Rocks and debris rolled down the side of the mountain, away from our path thankfully.

On the other side after some futile bargaining with opportunistic jeep owners trying to pick up tourists for inflated prices, we hitched our final lift with a group of Punjabi lads on holiday. This included many stops for photos and food - including a few drams of Indian single malt that they kindly gave us a sample of from a hip flask before bundling us back aboard the back of the truck with cries of "chello"! So, slightly tipsy, we finally arrived at Manali in time to find a guest house and watch the World Cup Final, tired but incredibly happy that we'd taken this long way round.

The Rohtang Clan

Made it!

Stay tuned for the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Himalaya: a tale of three amigos hitching their way across the mountains from Leh to Manali, spending only 145 rupees...

Joolay to Leh!

Joolay means both hello and goodbye. In this case, it's goodbye, with fond memories but itchy feet again: it's time to hit the road...

The last week has been fantastic. Went to Pangong Lake for a couple of days with the friends I've met here, one of the highest lakes in the world. Had a nice swim, it was probably slightly warmer than the Fjord at Flam in Norway, though not much, as I didn't last longer than a couple of minutes. Then the day before yesterday hired bikes and cycled out to Shey and Thiksey to see the monasteries. Such a rewarding bike ride, going through the beautiful countryside and enjoying the views, and the donkeys of course, ever present... coming back was hard work though, the last 6km before Leh are all uphill, and what a hill - it's one of those that gets steeper, and steeper, until when we got outside Leh it was faster for me to get off and push! Still have a very sore arse, but it was worth it.

Decided instead of staying in Leh till August, I'm joining Nick and Trevor to travel back to Manali the long way round, hitting some of the smaller towns and villages along the way. Really excited to be honest, it's going to be great to see places that aren't giant tourist traps... even Leh has felt a bit like that in places, despite being fairly remote. A few people I've met now have said India is changing so fast, that soon it simply won't be the "India" backpackers expect. But I think that's a subject for another blog post.

Time for breakfast!

Lazy Leh

Not been up to much since I got to Leh, partly due to recovering from the mad minibus ride from Manali, but I do like the place so far. Have met some nice people here already, and hopefully going to some kind of full moon party in a couple of nights. In the day time I've been doing lots of reading and writing again, going for little walks and checking out the more local sights. Yesterday I climbed up to Leh palace and explored the inside of the building, including one corridor with an open doorway at the end with a sheer drop back down to the town below it. Then climbing right to the top for amazing views over Leh and the rest of the valley.

After the palace I went to the Ladakhi Women's Alliance, where I saw a film called Ancient Futures - Learning From Ladakh. It was certainly thought provoking, though I also thought it was overly negative. The film was by a westerner observing the effect of modernisation on Ladakhi culture and ecology. I've had similar arguments before about modernisation and whether traditional cultures should change/be changed. I think given the nature of the world and how it's virtually impossible to be isolated or insulated from it (North Korea being the exception perhaps), it's a losing battle to prevent the spread of culture - for better or for worse - across national or traditional boundaries. All you can really do, in my opinion, is with a lot of things - "harm reduce"; attempt to mitigate the worst effects of modernisation and the spreading of other cultures. For example, the film was very critical of the education system in Ladakh (in the 90's), because all it was teaching children was foreign languages and how to get jobs in an industrialised society, whereas Ladakh was a completely rural/co-operative society traditionally.

Like I said, it's a thought-provoking subject!

Today I kept things a bit lighter and walked out to the Donkey Sanctuary outside town, which was excellent. In Ladakh, donkeys are used as beasts of burden but often when they get older and lose their strength they're just turned lose to wander the country or the streets of Leh, where they're often attacked by packs of stray dogs; the strays sometimes will eat baby donkeys too. I met a couple of other travelers there, despite it being in the middle of nowhere, on of whom had brought 1.5kgs of carrots and apples to feed them.

I can't help feeling sorry for the dogs too, though. I guess this is common in many parts of the world, but there's so many strays wandering the streets of the towns and cities, surviving by scavenging the waste of humans.

Conversely, I wonder what people who insist pigeons are vermin think about stray dogs in places like this? Are stray dogs also vermin? This is one of the things I love about traveling, it makes you think about things you never would normally, and blurs the lines a lot with domesticated animals. In the west we have these very clear lines about what gets eaten (and usually cruelly intensively farmed), what gets shot or poisoned because it's clearly vermin, and what we take home, look after, share our family lives with and are outraged at bad treatment of. Traveling in countries that don't follow these rigid boundaries can be quite eye opening.

Personally the only conclusion is that all animals should be treated fairly, and we should take fucking responsibility for the "vermin" in our towns and cities: it is there, and behaves as it does, because of us being the filthy, disgusting, polluting animals we very often are.

"A nation can be judged by how it treats its animals." - Gandhi

Laid back in Manali

Manali is pretty awesome. Sal, if you read this, imagine a cross between the laid back / hippy spot / mountains of Sana and the resort feel of Pipa, though without the beaches and with the most spectacular mountains I've seen in a long time. The place is in this really narrow river valley (the River Bea I think it's called), the mountains on either side, covered with pines, leaping high into the sky all around, with snowy peaks in the further distance.

The place I'm staying at has a roof you can get onto, so I can chill up there and soak up some rays away from the noise of the main road (of which there is one here in Old Manali). Or I can read or write in my nice little room with the windows open and the curtains half closed to let in some breezes. In town it's mostly small restaurants, cafes and guest houses, with scatterings of shops selling Pashmina shawls and other clothing, or New Age stuff. There's a music shop on the corner where the path down from my place meets the road so I can always hear some music playing in the background. Yesterday I wandered back down to New Manali, which is a bit more Indian - more people here on holiday from other parts of India, more shops and general bustle. This has its good side - I found a small bookshop and a copy of the Hobbit, which I'm now reading after finishing Perdido Street Station and State of the Art (both great books).

The Aussie couple in the room a few doors down have gone on their medium paragliding flight today, in preparation for the long flight tomorrow I think. We watched Australia V. Ghana together last night which was fun, and I've done a book swap with them... no more lugging heavy books that I've read around with me. Got to keep traveling light.

Still haven't decided where I'm going next, but pretty sure it's between Dharamsala (where the Dalai Lama lives) or Leh (even higher in the Himalayas; the road's only just re-opened after the snows melting). Not in a rush though, am happy here for now.

Manali!

Have arrived in Manali after an incredible bus journey from Delhi. It feels so good to be here, with snow capped mountains around me, people that are normal instead of scam-merchants (so far) and some nice prices... my room is now costing me 300/night down from 600 in Delhi, and they do food too :D

I had a long think about my experiences and impressions so far on the bus ride, which was good. My first impressions of Mumbai and Delhi are still fairly negative... though I didn't really give them a chance, the sheer hassle of doing anything (particularly in Delhi) just drove me away in the end, along with the heat. People will lie through their teeth to get you to pay them, then pass you on to their friends who will also do the same, so you get caught in a pretty unenjoyable tourist rinsing conveyor belt of rip off after rip off. It's also the only place I've been where they'll demand a tip for EVERYTHING, and then shout at you that it's not enough no matter how much you give them. I even had a Jain priest do this - even after handing me the "rules for entering the Jain temple" list which included "donations are voluntary". It riled me to be honest, I almost wanted to drag him downstairs and make him read his own stupid rules. Especially with Jains being supposedly among the richest people in the city, with their temples stuffed to the ceiling with gold and silver...

So, Manali! Daunting bus ride through very winding mountain roads above some pretty big drops; crazy overtaking; cows, horses, monkeys in the road; sunshine and snow and snow topped mountain peaks beckoning in the distance. It's also pleasantly warm with a slight breeze, instead of roasting hot.

Internet is quite expensive here so probably won't post much, but I'm planning on staying for a bit I think, maybe go on some long walks and just enjoy the place hopefully.

Delhi

Arrived at Delhi around 7pm just as the sun was going down over the dusty roads and sprawl of buildings on the skyline. After some bargaining I've found a half-decent room and am about to head out to get some supplies (water, always water). Train was uneventful and fairly comfortable, ended up taking a different train as the one I was still waitlisted on the original ticket, but it didn't cost much more in the end and I should hopefully get an automatic refund back into my account of the first ticket.

Not much to report yet really! Going to check the city out tomorrow, then consider whether I want to stick around and maybe head to the Taj Mahal from here, or head north into the mountains :)

Am not feeling 100% health wise - I seem to have been predictably enrolled on India's #1 weight loss course, though so far it's just my bowels, the rest of me is still OK and food is going down fine. Am making sure to keep drinking plenty of water. Feeling just a tiny bit dizzy at the moment but I think it's just the heat... I don't want to think about what temperature it is here, but it's hot, and I've made sure to get a room with AC this time ;)

That's it for now!

One man in Mumbai

After we checked the train times yesterday Sam decided to catch the train to Udaipur this morning, so he left for Bangra station just after midday. I've booked a train for New Delhi leaving tomorrow night, I'm slightly anxious about whether I'll get on it or not as I'm on the wait list - in fact, after checking today, I'm still at wait list 18. Now what I think this means after reading up on it all, is the train is overbooked, so I might not get on it unless 18 people cancel their tickets before the day. I will get a partial refund. It seems a bit crap, as all the trains I checked for the next 4-5 days were waitlisted, not sure what to do if I don't get on it. Oh well, I've got lots of time so will have to wait and see what happens. I might just try and get on anyway, though the thought of a 23 hour journey with no seat/bed isn't too appealing...

Yesterday we visited the Haji Ali Mosque, at the end of a long causeway out into the Arabian Sea. It was quite an experience - the constant stream of people heading to and from the Mosque, the causeway lined with poor people (who are fed by the Mosque), the hundreds of little market stalls selling all sorts of crap, the goats (an entire family, including a tiny kid about the size of a kitten), and even a solitary sheep wandering aimlessly up and down the causeway. The Mosque itself was falling down a bit, but the sheer amount of people made it feel like it was a real local centre of... something. I would say religion, but there were lots of Hindu and western dressed people there too, and many of the people were just hanging out on the rocks or standing in the waves around the sides of the Mosque. Plenty of Muslims were there to pray, but it seemed as if a lot of people were just there to hang out. It was quite reassuring in a city where you read about there being lots of tension between Muslim and Hindu communities to see everyone mingling and generally looking quite happy. It was also rare to see everyone being fed:the people browsing the stores for kebabs or sweets, the poor people with their food from the Mosque, even the goats had some fresh greens to chew that someone had given them.

I spent today just wandering around Mumbai. Some of the architecture here is really incredible - the High Court building is pretty staggering, the scale of buildings here is just on another level to most other countries I've visited. Also managed to find a supermarket, so I now have my own toilet roll (my current place doesn't supply it) and some probiotic yoghurts and pills which were highly recommended by Ben, a guy we met in the Sports Bar a couple of nights ago, for staving off Delhi belly. So far my stomach's been coping reasonably well - about as well as can be expected when most food you eat is spicy ;)

Think I'm going to wait till I get to Delhi before planning the next leg of my journey, as I don't know if I'll get on the train tomorrow night or not... seeing as the waitlist hasn't decreased since yesterday, it's looking a bit unlikely. I'll check again tomorrow and figure out what to do.

Peas.

Mumbai

The dead dog's body flopped awkwardly in the road as the bus wheel rode over it. The free transfer car was driving me from Mumbai airport to my hostel a couple of suburbs over, and I was getting my first sights, smells and sounds of the city. A wave of heat had hit me leaving the airport, but the car had AC so I was fairly comfortable inside, compared to the chaos of the city rising and falling outside. Welcome to Mumbai.

Been here two days so far and it's a pretty interesting place, though not unlike most other big, dirty, busy cities. The area we've been staying in, Anderi East, is particularly chaotic and crowded - so much so that when the rickshaw dropped us off at the station earlier today we couldn't actually see it for all the people, market stalls, traffic, rubbish, random part finished bits of buildings, oh, and people.

I've already met some cool people here and received more travel tips and information than I can keep track of. My main man at the moment is a dude called Sam, from near Reading (UK), though I've had some really good conversations with a couple of other people staying at the hostel too, and we met a guy in the Sports Bar tonight (we watched the first World Cup match there) who we've found a cheaper place to stay from.

Spent yesterday and today exploring some parts of Mumbai, including a visit to the Gateway to India and the Mohatma Ghandi museum (the museum was probably the highlight so far, incredible how much he achieved in one lifetime through non-violent protest. It gives you hope that so much is possible through peaceful means). Tomorrow we've decided to move hostels to the cheaper place (here is 720 INR/night, there will be 300, and it's a lot more central).

We're also looking at booking train tickets soon, as everyone we've spoken to has recommended we head north, and I was thinking that anyway. Probably going to skip Rajasthan though as it's supposed to be baking, roasting hot there, and Mumbai's heat has got to me already a few times (it's not even that hot really, but very humid). Even if it was dry heat, the thought of cool mountain breezes and snow capped summits is incredibly alluring... so, going to have a proper dig in the LP tomorrow and figure out what's next.

Stay tuned! :)

Hi!

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