2014

Bombaystic Mumbai

I wish I could tell you the story of how we went to Mumbai and saw everything there and took lots of pictures and were extras in a Bollywood movie and had the time of our lives. Sorry to disappoint.

On the bus, as we get off it to have our only toilet break that night, instead of available toilets, I am sent off to pee behind a bush. Not only is is pitch black outside, I am also very worried that the bus will leave without me, so I hurry up and relieve myself behind a friggin’ bush. As I walk back, a girl, Jill, jumps out and begs me to not let the bus leave without her, as she is running towards the bush now.

We arrive in Mumbai early in the morning, and Sara feels a bit sick and I want a shower more than I could want World Peace or a million dollars. We get into a cab, arranging to meet later at a café with Mike, Jill and a girl named Victoria. We take a long time agreeing on a price with our driver, and as we get in, another driver/businesspartner gets in with him. We start driving, and the deal we made with the driver is out of the window. When we come to a stop in traffic, we get out and start getting our luggage, until they both agree to lower the price a bit, but it is far from what we initially agreed on. They’re upset, we’re upset, and there’s just no winning this, but we’re sick and tired and dirty, so we stay in the cab. Turns out that not only is our hotel nearly impossible for taxi drivers to find (then again, they seem to know the city as well as we do), it is also very far away from the bus station. We drive through neighbourhoods consisting of old, worn-down buildings, “nicer” slums and a whole lot of pollution. At first I think it’s just a very foggy day, until someone tells me it is actually dirty air. How nice.

We are staying at Bentley Hotel Churchgate (on Marine Drive), and it is better than we could have ever expected. Our room is so big and clean, with a vanity, air-con, a couch and a safe box omigoshyouguys! The bathroom is out of this world, compared to what we’ve had to deal with lately, although showering is still just pouring a bucket of water over your head.

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Shower time

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We put on our Salwar Kameez’/Punjabi dresses that we bought in Delhi, and go to Leopold’s for lunch, with all the men outside yelling “Bollywood extras!?” It has been on my bucket list for ages, but with two days in Mumbai and Sara feeling sick, it seems that will have to wait until next time. Oh well. We break our vegetarian streak by eating a Caesar salad, and I actually feel bad about it. I was kind of proud of myself , since I am a huge fan of meat. After that, we walk around for like an hour trying to get a taxi that isn’t trying to scam us, and of course we almost rip each other’s heads off in the process.

We take a nap at the hotel, hoping that it will make Sara feel better, but it doesn’t. We have to meet up with our friends from the bus at 7 though, so we get out of bed and into a cab. Our driver is hilarious, saying he doesn’t want our money and proceeds to ask us if we “like Indian banana?” I am appalled, thinking he means he wants something other than money as payment for the ride, but then suddenly he gets out an actual banana and hands it to me, insisting I keep it. Needless to say, we payed him, ’cause that was just plain weird. At Leopold’s (again) we meet Mike, Victoria and Jill. A big meal, 6 huge Kingfisher’s and a banana covered in ketchup (that I actually eat on a dare) later, it’s almost 11 at night, which seems to be a dangerous time to be out as a white girl in India. We all say goodbye, I get Jill’s number in case she wants to hang out before her flight the following night, and we head home.

Next morning, Sara isn’t feeling any better, but we have a lot to do on our last whole day in Mumbai. After breakfast at the hotel (more masala chai, yum!), we take a long taxi ride to a much recommended, super hard to find travel agent. Holi Festival is coming up, and we have been thinking about celebrating it in Pushkar, as alcohol is not allowed there. Sara is concerned for our safety during such a big celebration. Well, no one seems to be able to get us to Pushkar in time, so instead we book a bus to Udaipur. We’re so spontaineous, ha ha.

We go see the Gateway of India, which is kinda underwhelming, but it gives us a reason to take a picture of me.

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Close by there is an Indian Starbucks which means air-con! We head in and grab something to drink, share a cake, and Sara steals a roll of toilet paper in the bathroom. We are so cultural.

Next thing on our list of things to get done is to find a charger for the computer that we brought. After another drive with a confused man behind the wheel, we find a place where the nice people promise to order one and bring it to our hotel – and they even agree to take a look at my camera too, but can’t promise anything. Well, a few hours later, a guy brings us our stuff to the hotel and we are beyond excited… Until we realize a part of the charger/adaptor is missing! I call the company, but no one understands me, so the nice receptionist at our hotel talks to them for us, but it doesn’t help. Instead, he gives us directions to a department store that’s closing within an hour, where we can find plugs, so we run down to Asiatic and pick up a plug, along with some colours for Holi. Day saved!

We then watch the sunset from Chowpatty beach, which is right across the street from the hotel. It’s so beautiful, that everyone gathers at the beach to look at the drowning sun, even the crabs. Sara and I sit there for a long time, just watching the crabs have an epic duel.

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We have a late dinner at Pizza by the Bay, where we also had lunch (we’re repeat offenders). The lunch was amazing and the dinner good, although I underestimated the amount of chilli flakes on my pasta, and I end up eating less than half of my portion. The waiters are all very nice, but I think they are a bit offended that I don’t finish. Still a bit hungry, but unable to finish my pasta, I order dessert, and so does Sara. Halfway through my cheesecake I am full. Once again, the waiters seem to think I hate the food, and it’s really awkward.

I’m a bit bummed we didn’t see more of Mumbai, but we definitely needed more time. Even though it is more populous than Delhi, it doesn’t seem nearly as crowded or aggressive, and therefore not as scary for a tourist. While a lot of what we’ve seen are poor neighbourhoods, the cleaner parts of Mumbai has some amazing architecture (Central train station, High Court and so on) that reminds me a bit of Europe. It seems very different from the flamboyant India, with the bright colours and details, we’ve seen so far. I thought wearing a Punjabi dress would make us blend in more with the locals, but not only do a lot of them wear more “western” styled clothing, it also gives us more attention than ever. Especially from men. I will definitely recommend any tourist doing it though, as people really seem to appreciate that you try to blend in, and I’ve gotten so many compliments on my dress!

No Hospetality in Hospet

Since we’re becoming packing geniuses, we have a lot of time to kill before checkout from Hema Guest House, so we sit at their restaurant and relaxed for a few hours. Then we move on to an internet café for an hour. Then The Laughing Buddha for a couple of hours as well. Today is our fourth day as accidental vegetarians!

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A group of aussies are also sitting at The Laughing Buddha and I basically just listen to them talk. I love the aussie accent and I miss it every day. India is like New Europe – full of Germans, Brits and the occassional Scandinavian. Well, it’s 3-ish and we put on our backpacks and get on one of the little boats to get to the other side of the river. This glamorous broad falls. On my knees. On a boat. That is just a little bit awkward.

We get on a tuk tuk and drive off to Hospet. Our bus stop here is basically just a pile of dirt on the main road. Mike from England is the first person on the bus to get there, and we sit there just the three of us for an hour until we start wondering where that bus to Mumbai is at. Robin from Canada and Victoria from Spain arrives and announces it’s delayed a few hours (of course), so we all go for some Thali, which is so spicy it makes me cry, but at least it’s only 50 Rupees. Poor Mike goes on an hour-long search for a bathroom, as only women are allowed to use the ones around the bus stop. People in Hospet don’t seem too helpful, I tell you that. Also, women actually have the upper hand here? That is new.

Finally our bus arrives, and it is a bit nicer than our last one. Still a bumpy ride though.

Hampi

A night at Ludu’s Guest house is like sleeping on the beach. Our room, or should I say hut, is located right on a giant rock, that’s attached to several others going out in the water. As we are slowly snoozing off, we can hear the waves from the ocean hitting the rocks, and we feel the cold air streaming through the windows – they aren’t completely sealed, as one could imagine. Definitely an experience.

By 11.00 we are all packed and ready to go, except we need to find that guy who showed up out of nowhere last time we needed him. Whaddaya know, he’s right there! It’s amazing! Truly magical! We pay him 600 rupees and head off with our heavy backpacks once again. Sara sneakily picked up an old edition of Lonely Planet at The Jungle Hostel that had recommended the Relax Inn restaurant, so we go there for breakfast (err, pancakes), which is nice. We still have a lot of time to kill before going to Mapusa though, so we go to a café close to the bazaar and the beach, and just abuse the Wi-Fi for travel planning (and Facebook, who are we kidding?)

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When we are super bored of that, we grab a shady-looking cab, but I negotiate a very low price, and there are no better options around. 30-60 minutes later we are in Mapusa and meet up with Selina and Angi at Ashkor restaurant. In the heat, eating this super spicy food with nothing but water to drink, our eyes are watering and the sweat is running, not dripping, from our faces.

The next couple of hours we all sit pretty much in silence by the bus station, waiting impatiently for our busses – theirs to Mumbai, ours to Hampi, which Angi recommended for us back at The Jungle Hostel. The sunburn is slowly turning into a painful scab on my face, and the Nivea cream Tal gave me helps, although the perfume stings a bit. I feel miserable and ugly. Lucky, our bus has a nice double sleeper bed in the front waiting for us, but calling it a bumpy ride to Hampi would be an understatement. Really.

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At one point, the bus stops to let the passengers empty their bladders. 10 rupees each, and you got this luxurious stall:

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Now, I don’t mind paying to sit on a porcelain throne, use silk to wipe my ass and water to flush with. Paying to squat in harem pants is just wrong. I can happily announce it went well though. Back to the sleeper for a ride that has me singing Mohombi – Bumpy Ride all night long.

At 7 or so in the morning, the roads get even bumpier, and nature outside is looking greener and more lush. We are finally in Hampi. As we haven’t booked a hostel, we get our backpacks and go straight on the hunt for a hostel, as do all the backpackers. It is like a race to see who gets the last room in a hostel first, so we are all taking big steps. We first go to Mowgli’s Guest House, but it is a bit too expensive and too long until check-in. We move on, and a few minutes later, as all hope leaves my body, we find Hema Guest House, which consists of a cozy restaurant and turquoise houses with bright hammocks. We immediatley check in and demand a hammock. A monkey is jumping around on the thin roof of our house, which gives off loud, thundering noises, so we name him Lars Ulrich.

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We drop off our stuff and head to the river and buy a ticket for a tiny boat to take us to the other side, where Hampi Bazaar is. The elephant Lakshimi of the main temple is getting a bath in the river as we arrive, so people are gathered around the drop-off.

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Hampi bazar from our part of the town

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We are surrounded by drivers that offer to take us around to see the sights for the day. We get into a tuk tuk and start our day of sightseeing. It takes most people at least 5 hours, if not several days to see it all, but we are done in about two hours – we didn’t bother to get a guide book, so all of these pretty ruins are just that: pretty ruins. I took a 1000 pictures of them, though. Prepare to be visually bombed.

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Lotus Mahal, the Queen’s palace, in Vijayanagara

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The elephant stables in Vijayanagara

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Rice field across the street from our hostel

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A place to wash your feet at one of the temples

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The Queen’s bath

We go back home to nap, and then head to The Laughing Buddha for dinner. It has the best atmosphere yet, with candles, Bob Marley posters on the wall, chill music and pillows on the floor instead of chairs. The walk there through small paths seems a bit sketchy though.

The next day we wake up early to go see the main temple, Virupaksha, and the elephant. Absolutely amazing. For 10 rupees, Lakshimi will smooch (bless) you, which feels, uhm, funny. Sara takes the most unfocused picture ever, so I try going back to do it again, but an elephant never forgets, so it refuses to accept my money.

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The kid is obviously excited about this elephant. At home, we pay to see them. It’s called a zoo.  SONY DSC
There are so many monkeys around the temple, it’s (pea)nuts.

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Groups of young local people approach us and ask for pictures with us. It’s pretty common for tourists in India to experience this, but this is our first time! I feel like a celebrity! Actually, thank God I am not a celebrity back home, this will get old really fast.

As we are walking out of the temple, two men dressed up in God-know-what approach us and ask for a picture, too. We get the feeling that they want us to pay afterwards, just like the gladiators do at the Colosseum in Rome, so we politely decline. They don’t back down and we explain to them that we do not have any money on us, which they say they’re fine with. I take a picture of them with Sara, the one of me is too blurry to make out.

 

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After the pictures have been taken, SURPRISE SURPRISE, they want money from us. We just tell them the same thing we did before, and they let us go with the promise that we will pay them next time we see them. Yeah right.

For lunch we go to The Mango Tree, that unfortunately is not the same as in Vagator. It’s still very cute though. We also look around the bazaar and buy some stuff, and I meet a couple of kids and have a “sword fight” with them. So adorable. At this point, we are just a nose ring away from looking like every other tourist around here in our tank tops, harem pants, messy hair in a bun and colorful anklets and toerings. I swear I also have a Ganesh T-shirt now.

For post-lunch snack and dinner we go to Sai Plaza, which is close to our hostel and has terrible service and just alright food, but at night they show The Wolf of Wall Street, so we decide to come back for some entertainment. Although a sign in the restaurant specifically says “no drugs allowed”, a couple decides to pass a joint around, and the guy sitting next to us holds on to it long enough to finish it. It’s kinda off-putting when you’re eating, really.

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Goan at it in Goa – part II

I think The Jungle Hostel the Goan equivalent of The Pink Palace, Greece. Every morning we wake up, even more lazy than the day before, making it a habit to get several King Fisher beers from the fridge before joining the circle of people in hammocks. The dilemma of the day is which dish and cocktail to order from the huge menu at The Mango Tree, the restaurant right next to us.

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Today, we finally decide to go to see the beach – in daylight, that is. Our new German friends and Katherine from Canada join us. The beach isn’t quite the lonely tropical paradise one might assume, although it is rather empty. Still, we head toward the end of the beach to avoid onlookers. It is very common to get stared at and have your picture taken when you’re a tourist in India, but if you’re a tourist in India wearing a BIKINI, all hell breaks loose, and the video cameras are out. It’s not exactly pleasant to have your fat, milky white thighs on a strange Indian man’s cellphone forever… or until he breaks it and gets a new one.

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A very nice old lady with a big bucket on her head stops by and offers us various fruits, like mangos, papayas and coconuts. I have always wanted to drink out of a coconut, so she hands me one with a long red straw, along with a smaller coconut to eat. This is just amazing, soaking up the sun and overdosing on coconuts!

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After a few hours of tanning, throwing sand at each other and crashing into the huge waves, we go back for a shower and some lunch at The Mango Tree. Being out in the sun always gets me so light headed and tired, so we take a short nap before going back to the common room. We’re leaving tomorrow, so we need to figure out our next step. After that and a meeting with a travel agent on the other side of the road, we grab dinner at – drum roll – The Mango Tree (surprise, surprise) with Selina and a guy named Tal. We have a pretty amazing feast of fried rice with eggs and a thai dish of vegetables, walnuts and almonds. So much yum. With full stomachs we join the circle of people on pillows at the hostel, where drinks, beers and joints were passed around – we thanked no to one of these, but we wont tell you which one it was ;-)

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Will you look at this trippy panorama I took!?

It’s around 1.00 and it’s time for bed. I am exhausted.

Several hours later, I wake up with the worst sunburn. I am one huge sensitive lobster – but the worst part is my back. At this point, I could just go to The Pink Palace and stand with my face to the wall and no one would notice me.

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We pack our stuff and meet with a travel agent across the street to get some bus tickets for our next three destinations. In India, a travel agent is just really the way to go. But always go to more than one before booking anything, as one might tell you there are no available busses or trains to your desired destination, or they could overcharge you. a lot. We end up going back there three times before actually getting our tickets, due to whatever reason there could possibly be. It’s not too much trouble though, as we can spend more time in the common room with our friends. One guy from New Zealand is sitting in a hammock and playing the ukulele – or, at least trying to. Tal is offering me his jar of Nivea creme for men for my sunburn. There is just a good vibe and nice people, and it’s hard to leave.

In the taxi from the airport to Vagator, we met two American girls who were going to Arambol. They let us take a few pictures of their Lonely Planet, and painted a lovely picture of the place they were going to, so we decided to give it a try.

At 1.30 we get in a taxi and head to Arambol – it’s only 600 rupees. We are dropped off at the end of a looong bazar, and at the end of that, there is an even longer walk with our backpacks through the beach, another bazar and then a few huts. It has been the worst hike of my life – so far. We arrive at Ludu’s Guest House, and a man shows up out of nowhere and shows us a room and that’s it – no reception, no money, no check-in. It’s a bit shady, but whatever. We just lock our bags to the windows to be extra safe, and we head out to explore the shops – of course, we spend way too many rupees. This place has so many shops full of everything that a hippie could ever want, so of course Arambol is filled with white people with dreadlocks, stretches and wifebeaters with Ganesh printed on them. They’re all probably into yoga, too.

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We’re about to go find some dinner. It’s funny, but we almost have to force down our three meals a day. It might be the heat, it might be the food, or it might be the fact that we are too busy, but we only feel hunger in small waves, and quickly get over it. We rarely finish our food, unless it’s something familiar and bland, like a vegetarian burger or pizza. Indian food is just not for us, I guess.

Well, off to find something edible we go. Right now, I’m blogging from our balcony at Ludu’s Guest House, watching the waves hit the cliffs underneath us while the sun sets. This is life.

 

 

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