Travel East of White's Cross

Go on, Go on, Goa

I'm still alive and still very much kicking, just ask Paul or Ray who have been sharing beds with me over the past 2 weeks, but that's another story!

When I last mailed, I had arrived in the resort are of Goa, an English tourist hot spot during the December but just kicking into wakedness when we visited, which suited us fine after the batter we got in Mumbai. And so it was that we very quickly mastered the fine art of loitering around beds, beaches, bars and brestaurants ( I had to keep the alliteration going). It's so English orientated that the young local girls selling their wares, address you with "'Scuse me love, fancy a butchers? It's dead cheap", in unfaltering Cockney jive! It's uncanny. There are 10 year old children there who do not go to school but who can converse in their own language as well as English, French, Spanish, German and Italian they should open a language school instead of selling bracelets and sarongs!

From Goa, we took a 33 hour train trip north to "the blue city" of Jodhpur, which was named after silly looking pants them fellas that do be jumping horses wear. We stayed in the old fort part of city, Venetian style winding streets leading from calm quiet to manic motion of bizarres and traffic after a few turns. The locals here are extremely friendly and never ceased to approach us and ask "Hello, what country?" to which, when we answered, they would reply with a slow, sagely nod "Iiiiland!". It was strange having all these fellas queuing up to us wanting to shake our hands. Now I realise why those politicians love their jobs so much.

There's pages more of writing I could do on Jodhpur but I've just got the call that we have to get ready for out three day camel trek that kicks off in the morning, from a city called Jasalmer, where we moved to today after, without question, the hairiest bus trip I've ever endured, but a great laugh now that it's over!

Thanks for all the news from home, keep it coming.

Gra mor is meas mor on Ind,

John

A Push Over in Pushkar

A chairde go leir,

I’m e-mailing from the city of Pushkar, finally getting my cool back after getting into a big row with a “holyman” today at a sacred lake, who tried to threaten and cure money out of me after I refused to donate 10 euros to him for painting a dot on my forehead. This place is full of hippies and religious chancers. Sorry for my skepticism but these lads would wear anyone’s patience down.

Rant over. We arrived here after doing a 3 day, 2 night camel safari near the city of Jaisalmer. It was a great experience. We were lead out by a camel driver called Magoo who was ably assisted by his son Goodie. I learnt more about camel husbandry and desert agriculture than I’d care to recount. I drank tea with Magoo’s future in-laws and he invited me to spend Dewali ( a big national festival of light) with his family in his desert village. He’s a fascinating character who’s spent his life in the desert but thought me things about life, religion and what’s important that couldn’t be thought in any university. The man is also a legend of a cook who whipped up a new culinary experience from the same small bag of tricks on numerous occasions. Oh, and he sings! We did the trek with an Israeli couple who weren’t to be cajoled into singing around the campfire any night. They wouldn’t even join in with Paul’s moving rendition of Britney Spear’s “Hit me Baby One More Time”, sure there’s no explaining some people!


While we were out in the desert, there were a number of bombings in Delhi, to which we were completely oblivious until after we returned. Ye probably have more news of it at home than we get here.

We’re up at 5am tomorrow morning to climb a mountain to watch the sun rise over Pushkar Lake. We’ll head off on a Tiger Safari after that. Three days riding tiger! Before heading to Agra and the Taj Mahal.


Thanks for all the news from home, keep it coming.

Gra mor is meas mor on Ind,

John

Travel East of White's Cross

Travel East of White's Cross

Mumbai (Bombay) Madness


Dia dhaoibh a Dhaoine Uasail go Leir,

Day 6 in India and the world is still in a spin around me. This country is a whole different world. None of my senses have yet got over the shock: the food, the smells, the noise, the humidity and heat. All change, but all good!

We spent 5 days in Mumbai and saw some truly stunning sites. We met up with a remarkable Indian man (though he claims to be 1/8th Irish, his great grandfather from Laois fought with the British Army in India), and he guided us around the city and suburbs. His very unusual name is Terence Allen Bradley; I’m still trying to get my tongue around that one!

We saw sites in the city that there is no way we would have got to without him, we walked through a city slum where 1.6million people live in a square kilometer of space. Three generations of a family living in a 10m by 10m space, some of them with widescreen TV’s in the room! Open sewers running between the houses, boiling up with germs and rotting waste, lovely stuff altogether.

We traveled and hung out from vastly over-crowded buses and trains. Were you swelter in the heat while being compressed on four sides by Indians who can’t understand why this Westerner is streaming sweat from his face.

We stayed in an un-touristy area of the city where the streets are lined with traders and craftsmen all plying their wares: mobile barbers, radio repair men, fruit juicers, shavers, clothers traders, fruit traders, typists ..you name it and somebody will provide it.


500 water buffaloes in sheds where their owners and families live above them in the sweltering heat and smell. We went through the Red Light District where we had to keep dragging Ray back into the taxi, the castrated Eunuchs and male prostitutes were just too reminiscent of home for him.

Unusually I suppose, the food has been amazing and 100% non-sick inducing. Our man Terence gave us a great introduction to our first few meals and gave us tuition on the different food types as well as eating etiquette etc.

After being taken through the morning meat and fish markets of Mumbai, the three of us swore a policy of no fish or meat while on Indian soil. The places were rank. Butchered meat staked next to where animals to be killed eat and defecate. Cats and dogs rooting through heaps of meat destined for Mumbai’s finest restaurants. Enough to turn anyone vegetarian really!

Sleeping was a troubled affair in Mumbai, it’s abut 33 degrees Celsius at night time there and good high humidity. Not much night time rest for us wicked!

Luckily, mosquitoes have not proven too much of a problem so far, long may it continue. In general, Indian people are a great race, they are friendly, respectful, hard-working, very intelligent people and we have not felt threatened once during our time so far.


So after our stint in Mumbai, we decided we needed a bit of R&R, as well as some clean air, clean sea water and traffic not intently trying to run over you with every step you take. I am writing from Goa, south of Mumbai now, a place which fits all of the above requirements. From here we will re-launch ourselves to the hot north, up to a mostly desert region called Rajasthan.

Take care to you all, and I’ll try to do likewise from this side of the world. Please let me know of any news from the Emerald Isle, like any recent news on Fianna Fail’s revised strategy for CAP reform, important stuff like that!


Regards,


John