Get us out of here..........NOW!

Greetings one and all,

We left you last time as we were about to board our train at Agra station at around 5.30am for a 6.10am departure to Jaipur, just a short 5 hour hop away. Things didn't quite work out that way.

There was an announcement that the train was running about one hour late. At 7.00am there was still no sign of it and we were told there would be another 45 minute wait. Needless to say, that deadline passed too and a new time of 9.00am was 'guessed at' by the station staff. The train finally arrived at 10.10am so we had 4-1/2 joyful hours to experience the delights of Agra station. The wandering cows, goats, pigs, dogs, rats and swinging monkeys lost their appeal after a couple of hours as did the beggars, sham holy men, families with 12 children lying all around you and obnoxious porters running their barrows over your feet every few minutes but fortunately we met 2 Swiss ladies and a Chinese guy who were also suffering the same fate and got engaged in conversation with them. The ladies were on their second visit to India and were meeting up with friends in Jaipur before travelling on to other parts of Rajasthan for a couple of weeks. The Chinese guy was hoping to spend the day in Jaipur before catching another overnight train to Jaisalmer but the way things were working out, it was likely he would be getting off one train straight on to another. However, he was a mine of information about China so we are a bit more prepared for our visit there later in the trip.

We had booked AC2 (Air Condition 2nd Class) seats on the train and located the right carriage OK but found that our seats were in fact a bunk bed in a 4 bed cabin sharing with an Indian family who spent the first 2 hours of the journey just staring at us in total silence. Jo's patience finally snapped and she enquired of them 'Who the F... are you looking at. Have you not seen anyone from Planet Zog before?'It may have been a coincidence but they got off at the next stop.

Considering the hell holes we had just come from, Jaipur looked quite a reasonable place as we approached on the train. On arrival, we jumped in a rickshaw to our chosen guest house, the Atithi. We managed to bag the last room with air conditioning for about 9 quid a night. The room had its own balcony which we could sit out on as well. This guest house turned out to be an excellent choice (another Lonely Planet recommendation) and is the best place we have stayed at so far in India. The staff were actually very helpful and for once in this country, nobody tried to rip us off.

Jaipur is known as 'The Pink City' as most of the buildings in the old part of town are painted pink. This is a tradition dating back to 1876 when the Maharaja had the whole city painted pink, a colour associated with hospitality, to welcome the Prince of Wales (later King Edward VII).

We stayed in Jaipur for 4 nights and visited several of the major attractions, the most extraordinary of which is 'Hawa Mahal' or 'Palace of the Winds'. This five storey building was constructed in 1799 and was built to enable ladies of the royal household to watch the life and processions of the city. It will no doubt be immediately recognisable to you as it has featured on several TV holiday programmes about India. The 'Palace of the Winds' is part of the much larger City Palace complex. Another morning was spent looking at the other buildings in the complex, all of which were interesting in their own right.

We also visited Jaigarh Fort and another at Nahargarh, some 5 miles up in the hills above Jaipur. Whilst there was not a great deal to see in either building, the views from the hills on which they stood were well worth the sore backside you got from the autorickshaw bombing along the bumpy roads.

On the way back we visited the Royal Cenotaphs of the past Mahararajas of Jaipur.

Jaipur's newest landmark is a rocket-shaped tower with a revolving restaurant on the 14th floor with magnificent views over the entire city. Of course, we couldn't resist having dinner there one night. It takes 45 minutes to complete one revolution and brought back memories of my one and only visit to the Post Office Tower restaurant in London back in the 1970s. Our two meals came to around GBP 10 which although expensive for India was well worth the added attraction the restaurant afforded.

On another evening we decided to visit a place called Chokhi Dhani which means 'Special Village'. It is hard to describe this place as there is no equivalent that we know of in the UK but suppose it can be described as a poor mans Disneyland. It is about 12 miles from Jaipur and consists of a neo-Rajasthani village where you can go for a Rajasthani thali with traditional floor seating. These are served in several restaurants which are housed in a huge garden about the size of St James Park in London. As well as the restaurants, there was a range of traditional entertainment happening all over the place. There were dancers, magicians, snake charmers, fortune tellers as well as elephant and camel rides. They even had cows pulling a sleigh as if they were reindeer. There were also mini fairground rides thrown in for good measure. Throughout the gardens stood full size models of old Rajasthani houses which, although very colourful, were empty shells. Of course, there were the usual handicraft shops and trades people trying to part you from your hard earned cash. I decided to splash out 50p and have a head massage but far from it being a relaxing experience, I came away feeling I had gone 10 rounds with Frank Bruno.

It only cost GBP 3.00 admission which included the meal so was very good value but its appeal to anyone used to more, let's say, 'sophisticated' theme parks, was rather limiting. Uncle Walt need have no worries about this competition. A very unusual evening but one we are glad we experienced.

We both quite liked Jaipur but after a few days we had seen all there was to see and it was time to move on to our next destination, Jodhpur (The Blue City).

We decided to take a local bus to Jodhpur so at 6.00am we were at the bus station, bright eyed and bushy tailed ready for the off. We handed over the equivalent of GBP 1 for the fare and got aboard for our 7 hour journey. Usually on journeys of between 5 and 10 hours, the buses will stop for 10-15 minutes to allow passengers to rush out to relieve themselves against the nearest wall, tree, tea stall or sleeping beggar. Usually, it is in the middle of nowhere yet 20 or more kids always appear, as if by magic, and board the bus to sell you anything from a bottle of water to a hand-made suit. Our bus driver obviously felt that breaks were for wimps and after 6 hours we were still coasting along merrily. However, after 6-1/4 hours he did finally pull over and with the engine still running jumped out of the bus and sprinted across the road, obviously in desperate need for the loo himself. This was the signal for the entire bus to vacate and run off in all different directions. The driver meanwhile returned to the bus, started driving away honking his horn whilst there was the usual scene of the passengers running alongside the bus trying to scramble aboard. Believe me, they have absolutely no qualms about leaving passengers behind be it in the middle of town or the middle of the desert. There are signs at every bus station to the effect that it is the passengers responsibility to ensure they are aboard the bus when required.

We arrived in Jodhpur to be met by the usual rickshaw touts. We picked one from the bunch and headed towards the old town where our 3 choices of guest house were sited. We arrived at the first one but could not raise anyones attention so, unfortunately for them, they weren't getting our money. The second one was a pig sty instead of the palace that Lonely Planet had described and the third one was full. The proprietor of the third one did however recommend another which he said belonged to his brothers cousin, a very common relationship we have found in India. We went along, not expecting much and that was exactly what we got. The bed was about 2 inches off the floor with the usual stained pillow and blanket. Of course, there were no towels, toilet rolls or other such luxuries like a light bulb. The guy was asking 600 rupees a night (about GBP 7). After feigning a heart attack and telling him that he should be on the stage, he asked us what we would be prepared to pay. The room did at least have air conditioning (an absolute essential in these parts but quite often lacking)so we felt 400 rupees would be fair provided he saw to all the above matters and threw in a TV for good measure. He readily agreed. This guest house also had a very good roof garden restaurant with splendid views over the whole city including the fort.

We only planned to spend about 2 nights in Jodhpur as there is not a great deal to see and it was far dirtier than Jaipur. The major attraction is the fort itself which is called Meherangarh. We were delighted to see that almost all of the guide touts had been put out of business because there was an audio tour actually included in the price of admission. There were 35 points of interest around the fort and the guided tour provided an excellent commentary and 2-1/2 hours passed by very quickly. Many of the exhibits on show were unique in India and the various buildings and rooms themselves were fantastically carved and ornate. At last, a place in India that was well preserved and worth visiting. After a spot of lunch we headed to Jaswant Thada, a memorial to Maharaja Jaswant Singh II. This too was a lovely building, spoilt only by the sheer commercialism of the traders, dancers and musicians that are a constant pain in the backside throughout India. After a walk around the old bazaar we headed to a restaurant on the edge of town recommended by Lonely Planet. Unfortunately, it must have closed down long ago as nobody in the area seemed to have heard of it and we ended up at a beautiful garden restaurant that is mainly hired out for weddings. Although, as usual, the lighting was so low we could barely make out each other let alone the food we were eating, it tasted OK and was very cheap for such a luxurious setting (two courses each plus several drinks for under a fiver).

We headed back reasonably early to the guest house for our final night. Our bus to Jaisalmer (The Gold City), our next port of call, was leaving at 6.30am so another early start was called for. The journey to Jaisalmer takes 5-1/2 hours.

I will say at the outset that we both hated Jaisalmer. Like Delhi, it is full of lying, cheating scammers whose only purpose in life is to relieve you from as much of your money as possible in the shortest amount of time.

As you approach the town there is an army checkpoint with a raised barrier across the road. Every vehicle that we could see for half a mile in front of us just drove straight through. When our bus approached (and it was a local bus, not a tourist one), the barrier came down and two border guards got on, came straight over to us and demanded 20 rupees each calling it a 'tourist tax'. We told 'em we lived in New Delhi but their repeat request for money and fixed stares suggested they didn't believe us so we gave them a 500 rupee note in the hope they wouldn't find change. In India, gold bars and diamonds are in wider circulation than small change, however these guys were the exception and they seemed to have loads of small notes. Checking it later, they had stolen an extra 20 rupees for themselves but we thought an official complaint might get bogged down by red tape for the next 150 years so didn't bother pursuing the matter.

As we drove away, we noticed the seat behind us was occupied where it had previously been vacant. A young guy had boarded the bus at the same time as the border guards and he tried to strike up the usual conversation of 'Where are you from?', 'Where are you staying?'. We told him we weren't interested in guided tours of the city, camel safaris, rickshaw rides, trips to Jupiter or any other scam that he was selling. I even got my ear plugs out which have now become an essential and put them in my ears. This was all to no avail. He just sat there prattling on about how great his hotel was and that it was only 100 rupees a night. Fortunately, 5 minutes later we pulled into the town bus station and we could get off. We had the usual fights with the rickshaw drivers who had boarded the bus before it came to a halt making a beeline for our luggage. A few well placed elbows in the ribs saw them off and we walked out of the bus station to find our own transport. A short way down the road we saw another rickshaw driver, woke him up and gave him the name of the hotel we wanted to go to.

In Jaisalmer you have the choice of staying in what they call the 'Fort' area or outside. Our two chosen hotels were in the 'Fort' area. Rickshaws can only park in the square which is in the centre of the 'Fort' area and from there you have to walk. As we arrived, a barrage of hotel touts were thrusting their cards in our faces shouting out the name of their hotel. When we recognised our first choice we asked him if it was air-conditioned. He assured it was. We then walked through the pedestrianised alleys for about half a mile to the hotel and asked to see what rooms he had available. He showed us 3 rooms but all only had fans and no air conditioning. Fans just seem to blow the hot air round and are next to useless. We asked to see one of the air-conditioned rooms and he pointed to the fan. We said our goodbyes and headed back to the rickshaw park. The other touts were of course still there harrassing other tourists so we called out the name of our second choice and off we trotted again. We followed this guy through a maze of alleys for another half mile in the opposite direction and finally arrived at the hotel which was a converted Haveli (a centuries old merchants house)which was full of character. It was then that he decided to tell us the hotel was full but that he had room at his sister hotel. After thanking him for wasting the last 15 minutes of our life we stormed out. An American tourist sitting nearby said that we should check the other hotel out as she had stayed there and it was very decent for the price. Begrudgingly, we went with the guy through more alleys to his other hotel and it looked pretty similar. The room he showed us was fine but there was no way we were going to pay the price he was asking. He refused our offer of a 3000 rupeee discount until we started walking out again and finally agreed to our price.

Time for lunch. We headed off to town to find a recommended Pizza restaurant. By now we were craving Western food and the meal was very good. The bill came to 200 rupees (GBP 2.20)and I handed over a 500 rupee note. Without hesitating the reply came back 'No change'. 'Tough s--t" I said, 'that's all I have'. Off he trots to three neighbouring shops to get the required change. It takes them forever but we know they will walk 10 miles over broken glass to get change if they have to so we always make a point of giving restaurants our high notes so we can stock up on change ourselves. This only works in restaurants as you have already had the meal so they have little option but to find you change unless they give it to you free and, believe me, 'India' and 'Free' are not two words that can be used in the same sentence.

We decided to take a walk around town and headed through the maze of narrow streets and alleyways just outside the fort area. They seemed particularly narrow and in several places it proved impossible to pass by the various varieties of farm animal that were very prevalent here and we had to turn back. With open sewers both sides and piles of rotting rubbish everywhere, this was not a plesant Sunday afternoon stroll. The shop keepers who never seem to keep shop but are always outside waving their goods in your face and shouting 'Hello sir, you want nice pashmina shawl' or 'Hello madam, we have genuine 13 carat diamonds'. The barrage is constant and after 10 minutes of this, your ears are ringing. Of course, this town had a proliferation of beggars and street kids too who kept pulling at your arm demanding money.
Although we are used to this scenario almost everywhere we go, this was a desert area and the temperatures were close on 100 degrees Farenheit which didn't help matters. We found respite in an Internet cafe and whiled away some time there until it got dark.

We then headed back to our hotel for a shower before seeking out somewhere for dinner. The water was freezing and no matter what controls on the shower unit we pressed, none of them made any difference. There was virtually no pressure either so the water barely trickled out. We asked the owner if it was on a timer and only then did he decide to tell us that there was never any hot water. We asked him if he felt we should at least be entitled to hot water for the extortionate amount he tried to demand from us but he just smiled coyly and said 'Sorry sir'. We have learnt there is absolutely no point in getting angry here and raising your voice. The Indians see it as a weakness and that you are losing 'face' and simply smile at you in a pitying way. This is even more infuriating so you have to hit them where it hurts.....no, not in the goolies but in the pocket. We told him we were leaving, packed our bags and walked out while he stood there in stunned silence.

It was around 8.00pm by now so we looked in Lonely Planet for other options and saw another mid-range one for around the same price. This one was located about 10 minutes walk outside town. We got a rickshaw and couldn't believe it when he pulled up outside a Maharajahs Palace however it was the right place. We noticed it was in total darkness as we came up the drive but suddenly all the lights came on and as we pulled up to the door we saw staff were adjusting their attire and rushing around making the place look lived in. We knew we were on to a winner here as obviously they had no guests so we were in a good bargaining position with the room rate. We asked to see a room and it was huge and opulent. Beautifully furnished, it had air conditioning, fridge, 125 channel tv, luxurious bathroom and a real soft bed (virtually unheard of in India). When we asked what the room rates were, we were quoted exactly what it said in Lonely Planet. We argued that the room rate he was quoting might be correct if he was full but the place was empty and we had numerous guest houses to choose from. He immediately dropped the price 3000 rupees and threw in a complimentary breakfast. We accepted the new price and ended up with a much better room than we had earlier in the day for a cheaper rate.

The following morning we went to have a look at the towns main attraction, Jaisalmer Fort. Again, an audio tour was included in the admission price. There was not quite as much to see as at Jodhpur but it was still very interesting and we whiled away a couple of hours soaking up the history.

Whilst the fort area was a bit cleaner than the town, the traders were constantly in your face, literally. They would wave their fake pashmina shawls or wallets under your nose every step of the way and I'm afraid violent tendencies got the better of us on more than one occasion. We grabbed the goods out of their hand and threw them to the ground when they got over zealous. Of course, they simply smiled, picked them up and were waiting again to hassle you next time you passed that way.

Every other shop in town is offering tours to see the sunset in the desert at a place called Sam. We decided to take Lonely Planets advice and book it through the Tourist Information Centre as we thought, they at least, would give you what they offered. However, this is India and even they are not adverse to scamming you. The TIC officer offered a group tour for 50 rupees more than the book quoted. When I queried the price, I was told 'Fuel surcharge'. His mate then came out and spoke to him for 5 minutes in Hindi and kept looking over at us. He then said there was an alternative 'couples' tour by air conditioned car rather than the group tour which was by landrover. Needless to say this was 400 rupees dearer. Of course, we knew there was no such tour and that one of them would be driving us and pocketing all the money for himself. We opted for the group tour and you could tell by their faces they weren't happy. The itinerary was that we would board the bus at the Tourist Information Centre at 3.30pm, be taken to look at a temple beside a lake before going on Sam where the dunes were located. We would then have a couple of hours there to watch the sunset before returning to Jaisalmer. We booked the tour for the following afternoon.

The following morning we went to have a look at the Jain temples, a complex of 7 beautiful sandstone temples. We paid our entrance fee (10 times what the Indians pay)plus a camera fee and entered the first temple. A so called holy man beckoned us over to take a photo of a gold statue which we did and then demanded what he called a 'Donation' for taking the photo. We showed him our camera ticket, walked over to the statue and took several more photos before going on to the next temple. They had the exact same statue there with another guy beckoning you over to take a photo. We told him 'Fine, but no money' and took some more shots. He stood there waiting for us to finish before blocking our path and demanding a 'Donation'. Prior to this we had seen he was putting the money other tourists were giving him (yep, some did actually pay up)into his pocket. The only charity that was going to benefit from these donations was his own one. We waited for him to address a party of Indians also looking at the particular room before telling him that as a holy man he should be ashamed of himself for extracting money from tourists under false pretences and that he was giving India a bad name. We went back to the ticket office to ask them why we were being asked for more money to take pictures when we had already purchased a camera ticket but they just smiled and said 'Donations'.

We then went on to Patwa-Ki-Haveli, the most magnificent of the Havelis in Jaisalmer. Immediately, we had paid our fee someone rushed over to offer his services as a guide for an extra 100 rupees. We declined as we knew there should be a free guide in the building itself. The Haveli was owned by 5 brothers and one of them greeted us as we entered. He then gave us the grand tour but seemed in rather a hurry. Halfway around we noticed a courtyard below which was surrounded by carpet shops. In the centre of the courtyard was a group of tourists being given the usual spiel and having umpteen carpets rolled out in front of them. We realised then that the tour was free because they were expecting you to sit through this demonstration of carpet making in the hope that you would buy something. We made it clear to our guide that we were not prepared to be subjected to a load of waffle on carpets and requested he showed us another way out of the building. He said there wasn't another way so as we approached the courtyard we just kept yelling 'Exit, Exit, Exit' as loud as we could to disrupt the demonstration and continued doing so until they showed us the way out which was through a small door in one of the shops. We would never have discovered it ourselves and that was obviously their plan.

At 3.00pm we headed down to the Tourist Office to pick up our bus and found an Australian guy plus two Spanish people waiting also. We got chatting to the Aussie who had travelled extensively not only in India but around most of the world and picked up one or two accommodation tips. A landrover did actually turn up at the specified time and the 5 of us plus driver set off. We thought this was nice and comfortable and hoped that at last we are getting what we paid for. I've said it before and I'll say it again 'But this is India'. Five minutes later we stopped in town. Our seating arrangements were hastily rearranged as an Indian family got aboard and took the best seats. We then set off towards Sam which was about 25 miles away. On the way we noticed the sign leading off the road for the temple but shot straight past the turning and continued on to Sam. 100 yards from the car park, several Indians stuck their heads through the windows demanding from each of the foreigners a 'car park fee'. Our real choice of words are not printable here but basically we told them they weren't getting a penny from us and if there was a car park fee to be paid, then they would have to get it from the driver. We did notice that none of the Indians were asked to cough up. After a five minute stand off where we agreed not to look at them or answer them, they had little option but to let us pass. Obviously, the driver was in on this scam too as he just sat there whilst they were demanding money with menaces. As it turned out, there was no car park and the landrover just parked on the sand with the hundreds of other vehicles that were also there. The coaches alone must have numbered over 100.

We looked at the scene before us and saw several thousand people (almost all Indians, which was a big surprise). Whilst we weren't expecting a 'Lawrence of Arabia' experience, we definitely didn't bargain for seeing 500 camels ferrying people in all directions across the dunes. Before we had even closed the car door we were surrounded by camel drivers offering rides for 100 rupees.

Fighting them off, we walked towards a large sandhill in the distance which seemed to be the gathering point to watch the sunset. We couldn't take five paces without a camel blocking our way and the driver yelling down at us. About halfway to the hill the price had dropped to 20 rupees. Sam was not a real town but just a collection of tents and slum dwellings where presumably the camel herders lived plus no end of shacks selling warm drinks as they had no refrigeration. Apart from the camel rides, there were no end of women in fancy dress demanding money to take their photos, dancers demanding money to take their photos, snake charmers demanding money to take their photos as well as a myriad of begging children just demanding money. This constant hassling lasted for almost 2 hours; the sunset itself lasted little more than 10 seconds. Whilst we got one or two decent photos, this was a desert experience definitely not worth repeating. On our return to the car we asked about the visit to the temple. The driver just said 'No time'. Just another lying, cheating Indian we thought.

We had heard good reports from the Aussie about Udaipur (The White City) which was to be our next port of call so we decided to get out of the s**thole that was Jaisalmer as early as possible the following morning for the 12 hour journey to Udaipur. Of course, every travel agent in town was offering a direct overnight luxury bus service for around 500 rupees but although it would mean changing buses in Jodphur, we decided to use the local ones as we didn't intend to be scammed any more with the tourist bus.

We took the 7.00am bus for the 5-1/2 hour journey back to Jodhpur and the fare was 75 rupees (about 90p). We had to hang around Jodhpur bus station for two hours, which believe me, is not a pleasant experience. The smell alone from the urinals (read 'any handy wall') and the rotting rubbish is enough to make you nauseous after 15 minutes. We finally boarded the bus to Udaipur for the 6-1/2 hour journey. We were due to arrive there around 7.00pm but actually got there at 10.30pm thanks to two breakdowns and numerous pit stops at indescribable health hazards along the way. As it turned out, the bus didn't actually go to the bus station but decided to stop a couple of miles short in a goods yard. Nevertheless, despite the late hour, the rickshaw drivers were waiting in force to ferry any unsuspecting tourist to a hotel of their choice. As we were the only tourists on the bus, they made a beeline for us. On asking the fare to the hotel WE had chosen, we got it down by more than half as they fought among themselves to offer the lowest price. We said the first one to offer it for free would get the job but although that particular price wasn't on offer, we did pretty well nonetheless.

Fortunately, the hotel had one room left and although it was adequate, we felt it was overpriced and they weren't prepared to discount for a longer stay, so we checked out the following morning. We found another just along the road and secured an air conditioned room with a balcony overlooking the lake for less tha half the price of the first hotel. Now, Udaipur is not perfect by any means. The stray dogs alone can be counted in their hundreds and the callings from the mosques always kicked off at 3.00am in the morning so you could never sleep right through but the setting was beautiful and it was easily the best place we have been to in India. It's just a pity we couldn't afford to stay at the Lake Palace Hotel (around 300 quid a night), one of the great hotels of the world that seems to just float serenely in the middle of the lake.

Unfortunately, Delhi Belly set in again and our first day in Udaipur was wiped out but thanks to a magic remedy (an extremely vile yoghurt concoction with the texture of a dry sponge) dished up by the hotel owner, I felt much better the following day.

We headed for the City Palace which stands commandingly over the town and is Rajasthan's largest. There were many interesting artifacts to see but as always, it was the architecture which impressed the most. These maharajahs certainly knew how to enjoy life. We followed this visit with an hour long boat trip on the lake which was worth it for the cool breeze alone plus it allowed you to get a close up view of the Lake Palace Hotel to see how the other half lives.

Another day was spent visiting the Jagdish Temple, an Indo-Aryan temple which had magnificent carvings. On another day we went to the main Haveli in town in the morning and took a rickshaw out to Ahar in the afternoon. Ahar is the burial ground of all the Maharajahs of the region and is a spectacular city of 250 snowy white domes built over 250 years.

One of the main attractions in Udaipur is to watch the sunset from the Monsoon Palace, a fairy-tale like castle perched on top of a distant mountain. Whilst there is little in the building itself, the views from the top are incredible and you can really appreciate the lovely setting of Udaipur as it sits nestled below surrounding mountains. The sunset wasn't too bad either.

Although we had enjoyed our time in Udaipur we were looking forward to going to Mumbai in the hope that there would be plenty to keep us occupied there as well as being able to get our hands on some decent Western food. Much as I love Indian food at home, the stuff they dish up here is a very poor substitute. Not only that but you have to wait half an hour to be served by surly waiters with major attitude problems. We are convinced that the normally very pleasant Indian restaurant owners in the UK all originate from Bangladesh as they bear absolutely no resemblence to their counterparts in India.

As we didn't fancy a 20 hour bus journey all the way from Udaipur to Mumbai, we decided to break the journey in Ahmedabad, the capital of Gujarat state. We booked our bus ticket in one of the recommended agents offices in Udaipur and he showed us the plan of the bus. We booked two particular seats which had no seats in front so that nobody would be reclining into our laps throughout the journey. Of course, the bus we got was not the one on the plan but another death trap with no reserved seats or air conditioning as promised. Scammed again but with little choice but to grin and bear it, we set off for Ahmedabad. At least it was mainly motorway the whole way so was a relatively smooth journey. Ahmedabad is where many of the Indians living in the UK originate from and is where the 'Patel' surname originates. It is also the most polluted town we have ever been in. The traffic is just horrendous and black smoke seems to emanate from every vehicle on the road. Spitting is a national pastime in India but in Ahmedabad, they are world champions. The life expectancy there must be about 45 and we were very glad we would only be staying one night. However, the hotel we had picked out of LP turned out to be very decent and we had a comfortable nights stay. Soon after we checked in we had to head for the station to book our train ticket for the following day. Every reservation office has a special counter reserved for foreigners and as we seemed to be the only foreigners in town, we were in and out in five minutes. Looking at the scrum at the other 50 odd counters made us thankful that we didn't have to queue up at any of those. The journey to Mumbai takes 8 hours but doesn't leave until 2.30pm so would mean a late arrival. We spent the next morning in our hotel room not able to face the pollution outside. We boarded our carriage and were a little concerned to see that nobody else was in there as we pulled out dead on time. We were told that because of the Diwali holiday, the biggest in the Hindu calendar, the train would be packed. It turned out that hardly any Indian could afford the extra rupees it costs to travel in an air conditioned car and were all crammed in to second and third class carriages. Meanwhile, we were being waited on hand and foot with drinks, meals and newspapers....but did we feel guilty?

Thanks to Diwali, we were stuck in Mumbai for 7 days when 7 hours would have been long enough. A full report in the next blog.

The observant among you will have noticed that we are now in Goa. Being a former Portuguese colony and a popular holiday destination for Brits, we thought it would be completely different to the rest of India and might restore some of our faith in the country. Sad to say, first impressions show it to be just another toilet like the rest of the country. Can anyone please tell us why Brits spend good money to come to a beach full of vicious stray dogs shitting everywhere and piles of rotting rubbish as high as Mount Everest?

We have decided to cut our losses and skip the rest of India as each place seems to be as bad, if not worse, than the last. We will stay in Goa only as long as it takes to sort out our flights to Kathmandu. Hopefully Nepal will turn out to be friendlier and cleaner than India. If anyone knows different, please let us know soonest.

On that happy note, we bid you farewell until next time.

Love
Mike and Jo
X X

p.s. More photos on Page 3 (Where else!)

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