Spice Jet from Mumbai into South India

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Yesterday (in Mumbai), despite Amit's misgivings about getting to the airport in time, we sat and ate a leisurely lunch set out by Jyotiben (Amit's cousin) that included multiple dishes, rotli, and rice. We left in the car at 2:15 pm for a 2:55 pm flight (a possible example of Indian Standard Time (IST)). Luckily, the airport is only about ten minutes from Jyotiben's flat. Even so, in his haste to get us there, her husband nearly rear-ended a motorbike on the way out of their apartment complex.

On our way, we saw an accident for the first time in Mumbai. A motorbike was on the ground at the center of the street. Amit could see its former riders kneeling up and brushing themselves off, and preparing to remount. They did not have on helmets.

In fairness, I found out that the Mumbai surburb where Hardick and his family live is more newly developed than much of the city; it was built up in the 1990s. The other areas where we stayed (which were developed in the 1970s) were comparatively tame. We still saw elephants, cows, and herds of goats, as well as a crush of pedestrians, in the streets, but the roads were (generally) paved, and the rickshaws, motorbikes, and cars drove in lanes (mostly). I perferred Hardick's neighborhood.

We flew on Spice Jet airlines, one of the "no frills" airlines that have sprung up in India in the past five years, to Chennai in the South. Interestingly, had we flown on the premier airline, we would have paid 2 and 1/2 times the standard fare, because we are foreign nationals. It was surprising how many white faces we saw yesterday at the domestic airport. When Amit asked the airline steward at the flight desk where we should be for our flight, she instinctively referred the two of us to the line for the flight to Goa.

Goa, a beach state on the Eastern coast, is the most popular destination for Westerners (according to Lonely Planet). Settled by the Pourtugese, Goa retains a large Christian population; visitors tour churches there, rather than temples. American hippies flocked to Goa in the 1960s. More recently, Goa became a destination for European and American ravers. In the mid 1990s, I heard about its multiple-day, full-moon raves next to the ocean. Lonely Planet advises that tourists can easily find such drugs as ectasy, acid, and hash there (albiet with a warning against indulging).

I am not stared at in Chennai, the way that I was in Mumbai (especially in the surburbs). Amit's uncle, Sanjaykaka, who lives in Chennai explained last night that there are many Westerners in Chennai because it is a center for IT in India. In general, American companies outsource their IT to Indian companies located in the South. The city of Banglore is at the center of this.

After staying the night with Sanjaykaka and his family, we are about to embark on our own. Everyone has been giving us much advice; in general, this consists of strongly-worded suggestions on how to travel most luxuriously. We have repeatedly turned down well-meaning relatives who want to book us on guided tours, as well as their suggestions to travel first-class on the train, or to book a private car and driver (it's unclear to me if this is a financially feasible option, even with the highly favorable exchange rate for the American dollar).

Our first destination is Banglore, where we will then be able to take a bus or train to the former Vijayanagar, once the capital of the Hindu empire that fell to the Moguls in the 16th century. The ruins of the city remain. The woman who bought my loveseat in San Francisco (off of Cragislist!) recommended that we travel there; Amit was enthusiastic since he had read the history of the area. The ruins consist primarily of decrepit temples, both Hindu and Jain. It will take us at least 8 hours to get to Banglore by bus, and another 12 hours to get to Hampi, the nearest town to the Vijayanagar ruins.

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