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Happy Christmas everyone! Hope you all had a thoroughly enjoyable time and stuffed yourselves sufficiently with mince pies and mulled wine. We had an unconventional christmas this year. Spending the day on a beach, in 35 C heat and drinking beer is bound to make for an unusual Christmas.
Our journey to Goa was a 16 hour train ride spent in the company a group of rather generous local Indians, who insisted on us sampling every snack they had bought with them. From cardamon cake to salted banana chips we saw, we ate, we got the s***s. Well, at least Fern did. The older generations had convinced themselves that we must be brother and sister once thay had established that we weren't married, and we decided it was easier, and less painful for everyone involved to leave them blissfully ignorant. We get this a lot in India. Men and women are either brother and sister. or married. There is no inbetween. Goa however is a little different. An old Portuguese trading post, Goa had a history of western influence, long before the hippies arrived in the 60s. Consequently, it has a very differnt feel about it. The hippies have left their mark too, and Goa is just about the only place in India where you'll see a local man with long hair, and a woman wearing shorts *gasp*. Many of these early 60s pioneers not only left their mark, but actually failed to ever leave. Their natural habitat is on the beach, where they can be easily identified by their drumming call and their distinctive swaying dance, which they use at sunset to attract the attention of other, similar life. We joined in with this quasi-pagan sun worship on a couple of evenings, and although some of the spiritualism went over our heads, the music and the atmosphere made for an enjoyable sunset.
We stayed in a bamboo shack on the beach (admittedly, not quite like the one pictured), which was run by the nicest family you could hope to meet. As they were Christian, they quickly set to work putting up tinsle and polystyrine father christmas', creating the strangest Christmas scene we're ever likely to see. Sun, sea and Santa. Our other unusual experience in Goa involed the people in our neighbouring hut. Upon returning to our shack one evening we did a double take when we bumped into the guy in the hut next to us. It turned out to be Rich and Laura - the same couple we had shared a house-boat with, back in Alleppey a week previously. Fern dropped her water bottle in surprise while Alex stood in amazment. We spent Christmas eve with them, when we went for a meal, and Christmas day, chilling on the beach and sinking a few beers. Our own make-shift goan Christmas. Different, but very enjoyable. The pervious day, we had been to a market with the aim of buying eachother Christmas presents. It was full of tat, but we got the cream of that tat, wrapped in newspaper and opened on Christmas morning. Fern recieved a silver toe ring and anklet and some yellow Ray Bays (that's fake Ray Bans) whilst Alex was given a green linen top, a silver elephant named Eric and some aviator Ray Bays (obviously the flavour of the month). Clearly we weren't the only ones who thought Goa would be a good place to spend Christmas, as just about every backpacker in India seemed to be there. However, we found ourselves on a slightly quieter beach in the north, which had a really chilled, laid back vibe. The locals also told us that this season was significantly quieter than previous years, which was good for us as it wasn't as difficult to find a room as we had been led to expect. It seems the backpackers were still there, but the package tourists had been scared off by a combination of last year's attacks and the effect of the recession on their bank balance.
After a week chilling out in the sun, it was back on a train, and back to a big city, this time the megalopolis that is Mumbai. The train journey was really pretty, and Alex entertained himself for most of the 12 hours by taking photos of himself sticking his head out of the door, or by waking Fern up by tapping her to point out a nice tree. "Yes...its lovely Alex...." We arrived into Mumbai pretty late, to CST - the scene of last years terror attack. You wouldn't be able to tell it ever happened now though looking at the city, which had regained its modern confidence. Mumbai is the most western city in India - it could be in a different country from Delhi. We spent most of our day staring at the pavements, marveling not only at their existance on the road, but also at how clean they were. We did a quick tour of the main sights, including the India Gate and the Taj Hotel before heading for a beer at one on Mumbai's travel hubs.
This is our last post from India, and as such we feel we should take this opportunity to sum it up as best we can:
Most shocking example of lack of common sense - Putting a cigarette stub out ON a can of petrol.
Worst meal - A 'cheese' sandwich purchased on a train that tasted like crap and looked like something Garreth would make.
Most harrowing toilet experience - Making a pit stop during a bus journey in a glorified cupboard, with a dirt floor, no light, a foul smell, and a rat living in the corner.
Longest train journey - 16 hours
Alex's best meal - a Kerelan thaili served on a bamboo leaf
Fern's best meal - Fish Mollee
Animals spotted - Cat, dog, mouse, rat, goat, lizzard, pig, cow, camel, boar, elephant, dolphin, eagle, crab, hermit crab, kingfisher.....mosquito
Place we didn't go to but wished we did - Hampi
Place we went to but wished we didn't - Agra (Taj excluded obviously)
Thing we'll miss the least - Waking up to the sound of men phlemming up every morning. In fact not just in the mornings, phlem was a regular sight and sound on India's streets day and night.
All in all, India was incredible. It was dirty, smelly and sometimes hard work, but we loved it.
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