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One week on and I'm in Goa, India and it's pissing it down! But it's not a one-off; it's actually been like this for a whole lot longer than I've been here, and'll probably in all likelihood continue in certain parts for a little bit after I've gone. Welcome to the monsoon!
I arrived last Wednesday into Mumbai, not really knowing what to expect of India, and was greeted on coming out of the airport with an intense heat I'd only experienced a couple of times in my life before, most memorably on a family holiday in Malta. This itself didn't feel strange as I knew how high the temperatures at this time of year would and could be, but add to this scene bucket loads of rain, and you have - well, for me anyway, - a bit of a surreal introduction to India. Luckily, I'd met a couple of Australians (or rather a Brit and an Indian who had emigrated to Australia) on the flight over, so we were able to take a taxi together into the city, they staying at the Taj Mahal Palace or somesuch place, and me, checking in at my rather more modest 150 rupee per-night hostel.
Remember I was saying how mad I thought the driving was in Lima when I landed there? Well, Peruvians may just have met their match in the Indian motorists, who insist on only using lane markings as a guide for where they shouldn't go and beap each other incessantly in a style which means more 'Hi, how are you today? x 10' than 'Get out the way, you nutter!' x 1 (as we tend more to do in Britain). Actually I didn't realise how annoyed I would get at this, but I guess after a while your brain would tell you automatically that the driver of the autorickshaw is only saying hello to every other car and person on the road, rather than warn you, the terrified pedestrian, of any impending danger. I'm going to try and put a video of one of the taxi rides in Mumbai on here soon.
Generally, I found Mumbai, as I expect many Indian cities to be, a place very much of contrast. On the one hand, wondering through the markets, one may bear witness to the intense poverty of street begging and of the ramshackle buildings some must call home, and on the other, one wouldn't even notice such buildings standing adjacent to the posh hotels of Colaba, where we stayed, themselves tourist sites. Equally, Goa, which was my next destination, has both rich and poor areas, but I feel a little disappointed...perhaps embarassed to be saying that I have not got out of Goa quite what I expected or hoped for, which is obviously down to being here at the wrong time of year. Instead, I have spent most of the time - when not under shelter from the pounding rain - exploring its capital, Panjim, which is where I am writing from right now, and its former capital's churches and museums in Old Goa. I'm not denying I haven't got a lot out of my stay here and that I feel proud at having found my way around in buses rather than taxis, but I imagine Goa to be quite a different place when the tourists get here.
Tomorrow morning I'm moving on to a place called Hampi, which like most of the now northern and eastern places I intend to travel to, I expect to need suntan cream for on a little more regular basis than of late. For now, it's curry time...
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