Smelly cities and beautiful beaches

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Lottys version;

After an extremely dusty, bumpy ride we arrived at the train station. Outside was a cow with the biggest horns I have ever seen in my life! He can't have been comfortable carrying those round on his head! We entered the station and were shown to the upper class waiting room to use the bathroom if we needed. We walked into the waiting room and the stench of stale urine hit us hard. We bravely continued, knowing we faced a 13 hour train ride where the toilets would probably be worse. In the toilets we peered into the cubicles and recoiled in horror. We had seen more western toilets than I expected, and we had also used squat toilets, but this was a tiled room with a tiny little hole in the corner, how on earth do you wee into that! needless to say we didn't go any further. We decided against joining the locals in walking across the tracks to get to the other platform and used the footbridge. Once over we were in a sea of Indians, how all those people fit on one train I don't know, although this is India and they are the masters at sharing personal space! We were told that we were sat in approximately the right position for our carriage, g15 but there was no guarantee that's where it would stop. There was a family of sixty all piling on in the same area and the train only stops for a limited time so when it does arrive we should run and get on any carriage and then worry about where we should be. I looked from my hundred kilo rucksack to Shaz and back again in disbelief... He wanted me to run... With that! We got ready, but obviously the train was late and unable to read Hindi we had a couple of false starts. When it was time to go we sprinted a few meters up the platform, implying he is a gentleman Planty hung back making sure all the girls got on, as the train pulled away I still couldn't see him in the madness and I just walked forward blindly! We found our seats, I found Planty and then we sat and took in our surroundings. The train was split into bays with 6 to a bay, the other side of the walk way was space for two more people, everything was open, I expected separate cabins but that was not the case. Plus Indians take so long to settle! Seriously how many times can you walk up and down the aisle? Our bay sleeping 6 consisted of two bench style seats that we sat on but also doubled as beds. A top bunk and a fold out shelf to really squeeze us in. There was little to no leg room sat down. We braved the toilet, deciding they had to be the best they'd ever be as it was the beginning. We got there and there was an Indian woman stood in the queue. "Indian Indian" she proclaimed. We just looked blankly, later we realised she meant these were the Indian squat toilets, the western were the other end. However we got a waft of the western one up the carriage and decided that because the Indians probably don't know how to use the western one properly and we were nearly certain using the squat one we weed straight onto the tracks, the Indian was probably the most hygienic! After taking it in turns to go and hold the door for each other as it had a tendency to swing open with the motion of the train we stumbled back to our group. After putting our pjs on and getting comfyish the guys played a few games of would you rather that included licking the train windows and disturbing the guy opposite who was the loudest snorer I have ever heard and the girls cringed in disgust. The train staff started bringing round food that we had all opted out of, (except for one who had eatern like a local from day one and suffered the consequences) being told Pringles and oreos were much more substantial for dinner. after about an hour of them walking round with different shades and consistancys of green goo and proclaiming what they were at the top of their lungs, the only noise was us laughing and the snoring guy, the rest of the carriage fell into a sort of stupor. We decided it was time to attempt a sleep so we put down the shelf beds and crawled into our spaces. The only way to lie was with bent legs so your feet didn't go over the edge. For this reason the tallest went at the top. I got a shelf bed, once in you couldn't sit up, or move around. For 30 rupees you could get a clean sheet, pillow and blanket. We opted out having silk sleeping bag liners that we had bought especially for the journey, at first I was jealous of the pillows and blankets, until the others started examining them and counting the types of bodily fluid stains, I knew I had made the right decision! I got to sleep pretty quickly considering where I was, and the only time I woke up was when Planty woke me to ask the time (thanks for that Planty!) and I slept for hours! I was prepared for a sleepless night however I didn't wake up until the train attendants woke the whole carriage individually shouting things like "veg cutlet" "omelette" and "chai" (the latter must have gone past at least 20 times!)

We got up, my whole body ached, I had in my wisdom, packed a change of clothes, toothbrush deodorant etc, I don't know what I expected, but there was none of that, we didn't even brave the bathroom to do our teeth. We looked out the window for abit at the biggest slums in Asia, then, before we could really absorb what we were seeing, it was all systems go again! We got off and into taxis, our driver went a couple of meters and then stopped to grab his breakfast, by which point I had made up my mind, I didn't like Mumbai at all! We drove through a narrow market, I knew this was not the slums but it wasn't far off. It was muggy and smelly and alive with people going about their daily lives, right there in the street. As the streets bettered I became more and more relieved about where we were staying! The hotel seemed ok at first glance. They had a greeter and the reception looked fairly modern. They had a table in the middle of it which also served as a fish tank, possibly made for goldfish and not the carp that were in it, but still! We were told our rooms were not ready and we were to be given one between 14 people to freshen up and leave our bags. We had a particularly nasty breakfast in a 1960s style restaurant. There was salt in the orange juice and tea was served in a flask, then a briefing, before being given 10 minutes to remove the dust from the Jeep ride and god knows what from the train ride and make ourselves presentable for a day sightseeing. The room we were given was to be someone’s room for the night, it had to be the smallest room in the world, with a tiny Indian sized door, beds that wouldn't look out of place in a nursery and a bathroom that had seen a good few guests! Needless to say I couldn't wait to see our room!

We all got into taxis for a day tour of Mumbai. our driver showed us some places including the uni, the beach (which is apparently a massive party place but the sea water is toxic), Mumbai's famous train station which was beautiful and nothing like the dive we had arrived into. We also saw the Gandhi museum. this was in a former residence of his and was fantastic! it was free entry and charted his life with pictures, correspondence to people including Hitler and Tolstoy and there was a room with different scenes depicting pinnacle points in his life, acted out by little dolls.

I went in not really knowing much about Gandhi, I knew he was famous as a peace maker and human rights activist but I didn’t realize how much of his life he spent campaigning for the poor, or how many countries he visited. The museum was an eye opener to say the least and we were that impressed we even made a donation! we also stopped to look over Mahalaxmi Dhobi Ghat- where they all do their washing. Particularly for the train that runs past (remember the 30 rupee sheets?) it is washing on an industrial scale! Everywhere are massive troughs (1026 to be precise) of washing being beaten and scrubbed, everywhere massive washing lines are hung with rows and rows of linen and clothing. I have seen it before on TV but is one of those moments that can never be properly experienced until you see it first hand.

when planning our day we had opted for a tour that included a visit to the slums, I hadn’t wanted to do this. I was worried about safety, however I knew that this was something you should really experience to put life into perspective. by this point I trusted Shaz completely and knew he would not let us endanger our safety. so agreed to go. We pulled over at the side of the road and went down a narrow street. All of us walked single file through a maze of houses and then back out again. All together we were in there about five minutes and that was really enough. We had actually visited a richer part of the slums. These were buildings where people lived and made pottery to sell in the market. We saw a potter at work on a potters wheel, his level of skill was incredible, each pot was identical and he sculpted it from a lump of clay in about four well practiced hand movements. Although we had not truly seen the slums (we were told it was too dangerous to go any further) it was still an eye-opener. Peoples lives are so intertwined and everything is done in the street. If I lived in that close proximity to neighbours back home i'm not convinced it would work the same way as here!

After we left we stopped on an overpass to look at where we had just been. It was a very smelly sea of blue tarpaulin and satellite dishes, it was horrifying to imagine living like that, however the irony is many second generation, educated, white collar individuals live there, having been raised in that environment and sticking to family and tradition. On leaving we were approached by a woman in a sari begging, only when she spoke she was certainly a man. On referring to the lonely planet guide book I discovered his tale is probably sad, being a 'Hijras' he was an outcast, socially frowned upon and quite possibly had had a traumatic life.

We were happy when the driver dropped us at the gateway of India and said his bit was finished. Primarily because his taste in music was dire (think very screechy woman meets Bollywood) but also partly because this was part of Mumbai that is actually beautiful! The gateway is massive and imposing and was built to commemorate king George v 1911 royal visit to India. It is also flanked by a Taj hotel which is a gorgeous, ornate building. We had planned on getting a boat over to Elephanta island but that proved difficult because of the crowds of people, the fact that the ticket sellers were just guys mingled in with the crowds and when I pulled out a wad of cash it turned out I had managed to only bring out 10 rupee notes (around 11p a note) this doesn't stretch very far (even in India) We borrowed money from Louise and hopped on a boat just as they decided it full, we squeezed in and stared in awe at the retreating gateway and then to naval ships, fishing boats, an expensive yacht and some freight ships. A few ships later and a fair distance from land we wondered where on earth we were going! It was taking ages and we were on a time limit. When we finally arrived we had to walk across 5 boats and up a jetty. To Plantys disappointment we had not come to see elephants, but rock temples!

Elephanta island takes its name from a stone elephant that used to sit in the port. However it is most famous for its rock temples, dedicated to lord Shiva. They are basalt caves carved into the rock with huge carvings of the god in different scenes adorning every wall and pillar. They are believed to have been created between AD 450 and 750 and although they are crumbling they remain impressive!

We made it to the base of the hill were there was a bar, from there was a steep climb along a narrow path with sellers on either side, whilst members of our group went the toilet we stood and ate some crisps whilst being midered by a very irritating goat! On setting off up the path a monkey ran across and jumped onto the wall beside, he sat aggressively screaming at us, everyone backed off and a local began motioning to a member of our group to give him her can of coke, we stared in disbelief as the guy took her coke and gave it to the monkey who proceeded to run up a tree with it and drink it. This put a member of our group off going any further and Planty gallantly offered to stay in the bar with her, I however made the sweaty journey up the hill to the temples. They were impressive, we have seen a fair few temples over the last couple of weeks and these were some of the most impressive. They are similar to the pyramids in the sense that you just stand and wonder how on earth people managed to create such impressive structures. On our way down another monkey ran at us as someone was carrying a bottle of sprite, he threw it and the monkey ran off with it triumphant. We couldn't wait to leave this island and its crazy junk food obsessed animals. Even the cows were pushy and they are normally the most placid of creatures! The sea was getting rougher as we departed and we kept getting drowned in spray! Although we were filthy, the sea was like the rest of Mumbai.. Dirty and we huddled together in the middle of the boat trying to avoid the murky cholera water! We rushed back to the hotel with under an hour to get ready, our taxi driver basically gave us a guided tour of Mumbai which we had already done that day. He also offered one of the lads drugs and then changed his price once we got to the hotel. When we finally got rid of him we grabbed our bags and dashed to our room. We were in 309, we walked up and down the corridor with all our luggage going from 308 to 310 round the corner wondering were our room was! Obviously it was the door with no number on that was different to all the others! Our room was actually impressive! Flat screen TV, rain shower (the water wasn't hot but we didn't even have a shower in ranakpur), it must have been refurbished recently. We quickly washed and met downstairs for dinner. We were going to Leopolds for dinner, a massive tourist trap it is known for its shady gangster past, 3L beer and being a target in the 2008 terror attacks on Mumbai. Behind where we sat was bullet holes in the wall serving as a constant reminder of the tragedy. Furthermore the guy with the massive gun on the door prevents it from happening again! Leopolds also served beef – the first I had seen in India, I had a steak burger and in true Indian style it was really spicy! This is after all a country where they eat curry for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

From there we went to the gateway of India to see it all lit up at night. All the way there and for most of the way back we were followed by Mafia owned begging street kids, one even had a money tin, I also got the impression they were not above a little pickpocketing either! After many no's and a couple of go aways, even a torrent of profanities from Planty they still persisted, it wasn't until a policeman shouted at them they left.

The next morning we decided to brave the streets of Mumbai over the hotel “restaurant” for breakfast. However this turned out to be no easy feat, the safety of a McDonald’s was too far so we set off looking for an alternative. We saw the others in a coffee shop and they warned us not to eat anything with cheese in... which was everything, so we tried a bakery, they only sold cake, the previous night I had a dessert called “chocolate ecstasy” it was amazing and the bakery sold them, we purchased two thinking it would be a substantial breakfast item! Over the road was “wrap express” probably a little more wholesome than a calorific sugar overhaul we headed over to it. We never saw the wraps so cannot comment, however I can comment on the express bit, it was a lie! We stood for 10 minutes watching them mess with a gas cylinder, we knew they hadn’t started our wraps yet and had to get back to the hotel so said we would just buy our drinks and leave. That in itself took another 10 minutes and included questions such as “what is your mobile number?” ...not a chance!

We scoffed our chocolate and set off for Mumbai airport. In the taxi the driver asked if we liked music. I recalled the horror we listened to the previous day but before I could protest we were blasting out Indian dance music. He was a funny one, I could see him looking back at us in his rear-view mirror and laughing at our horror every time he had a near miss of slammed on, especially when another taxi nearly crashed trying to overtake... that was apparently hilarious! When you get stuck in traffic in Mumbai beggars come up to the car, we had people trying to sell us books, souvenirs and there was a girl, no older then 14 carrying a baby with a really bad skin condition asking for money. It was horrific! We were told by our guide that she could very easily be treated in a hospital, however the girls were gang owned and she could earn more money in that condition. It was heartbreaking!

We checked in our luggage and passed through security unhindered except for the shopperholic ladies (Planty will give his opinio of them shortly) who had taped up a hammock they had been carrying round since Delhi so it looked suspicious and got scanned as a potential weapon! On the other side of security was a KFC! After an unsuccessful mornings forage us westerners where at it like moths to a flame! I was had by the “upgrade your drink for only 10 rupees” ad, it looked like green slush, I should have noted Plantys new rule of never order anything green as it turned out to be a sort of salty mango jelly concoction, yum! I even attempted to palm it off on someone else but to no avail. The best was Shaz though, he had to ask someone what to order as he had never had KFC before, bless!

The flight was pretty uneventful and Goa airport was a dump! We were welcomed by a cloudy sky (not conforming to our 2 day beach plan) and a sign saying merry Christmas. There were also plastic figures of Hindu gods and a half naked Gandhi everywhere, making me double take constantly.

We got in a taxi with an orange Ganesh and two plastic crocodiles on the dashboard. We asked the driver what the recent weather had been like, optimistic this was a brief hiccup..... “rain” was our only response. Failing conversation we turned our attention to the radio. This was our first indication we were in an area of India we were unfamiliar with. The radio elsewhere had been quite traditional Indian music, some drivers had been partial to some Indian dance/trance but Goa radio was the worst! It was a combination of annoying jingles and hits ranging from “the locomotion” to “call me maybe”. Furthermore these were interspersed by really dramatic adverts about how if you tremor you should film yourself and take it to the local hospital for analysis, and ensure you don’t have any standing water as it breeds mosquitoes from the national vector programme, it was just weird!

More bemused and a little traumatised by the radio we began looking out of our windows and absorbing the scenery. I went from not wanting to look because of the threatening grey sky to being mesmerised by how lush and tropical Goa appeared, in addition the damp air gave it a misty, sleepy feel, like the inhabitants were waking up to a new day (although the day was nearly over). It was a sharp contrast to the dust of Pushkar and the pollution of Mumbai, even the main roads were meandering rural lanes and despite the grim sky I really felt on holiday. We arrived at our destination, the “alor resort” was not much of a resort, we were shown to our room which was obviously back out the hotel, past a gaggling congregation of locals and through a rusty gate next to someone’s washing. Our apartment was huge, four bed for the two of us, but I wouldn’t count that as praise. I’m still trying to work out which was worse, this or Delhi, oh and you had to walk through the shower to get to the toilet again.....

Again we had very little time to get ready for dinner, we rushed down to find most of our group sat drinking beer, at £1 for a large bottle most had decided they like Goa already! The cheap beer continued in the restaurant. In Goa the trend is to bring out the fresh catch of the day so you can pick something that takes your fancy, I decided that as we were in Goa I would be adventurous and go for a stuffed masala crab with a side salad. The salad was amazing, I'd been craving one for weeks and the crab was far too much hard work for very little food. It started raining whilst we were in the restaurant, only it doesn’t rain in Goa it pours! I’ve never seen anything like it! After eating and when the rain had eased slightly we waded to a bar. It was buy one get one free on beer making it 40p a bottle, the same applied for some of the spirits which were by far not small measures. Goa was so weird, we had become used to dressing conservatively so I had put on a maxi dress but all the local girls were in hot pants and mini dresses, we had literally gone from one extreme to another! Shaz had also warned us about them saying they have a few drinks and go mental! I was watching one in the bar toying with two young men and no sooner had I mentioned it she turned her attention to the locals playing pool with Rick and Planty. Shaz was over in a flash warning us about her but she soon moved on. The whole thing was so strange. Indian women are not like that! They are conservative and demur, not absolute tarts and it was sad to see the majority behaving like that. Conveniently at half time in the Liverpool match it was time to leave. We also had an early start, with a breakfast meeting planned for 8am.

Breakfast we pushed the boundaries and had a fry up style breakfast. OK the bacon was streaky and crispy and I couldn't even tell you what animal the sausage came from, but there was not even an essence of masala or chilli so it was good! From there the plan was to go to old Goa and then to a spice farm to see the elephants. We got to a church in old Goa, had a look round and then went to go further. We could feel a change in the wind "oh it feels like it could rain" said Planty, and then it did! We ran for cover but it took us around 30 seconds to get drenched through. We made it back to our taxi and told him we'd seen enough of old Goa and to go to the spice farm. It was the same driver with his orange Ganesh, surly attitude and Goa FM. He didn't even flinch when four soggy westerners bundled into his taxi and told him to basically skip all of Goa's history and culture and find the elephants. He just obediently drove. When we arrived at the spice farm the weather was beginning to ease. After a cup of hot lemon grass tea we were shown around the plantation. This was a collection of all the different herbs, spices and fruit the Indians harvest. Unfortunately I didn't pay much attention as the humid wet weather had brought the mosquitoes out to play. Possibly the most memorable quote of the whole trip came from the guide at this point:

"oh these mosquitoes are OK, they are organic mosquitoes so don't have malaria"

How is that supposed to reassure me?? An insect the size of a bee is stealing my blood but its ok, because it won't give me malaria. The huge big itchy lumps I had for days all over the backs of my knees weren’t a problem whatsoever! Furthermore it is tradition that after leaving the plantation they wash with lemon grass in the stream. The tourist alternative is to have it poured down your back. Already wet and a little cold with itches all over from imaginary mosquitoes... I was not impressed! After the tour was a buffet. It was quite a good spread considering our rustic surroundings. It was quite spicy, but then we were on a spice farm! We were also given a shot of Fenny, the local coconut spirit to try. It was rancid! We picked bananas straight from the stem which were the tastiest bananas ever, by this point we were feeling a little stung that we hadn't seen any elephants, that was after all what we came for! We asked at reception and they told us we had to get our driver to take us round the back of the farm, we did and pulled up at the dodgiest looking set up. There were three elephants stood half asleep. The big male had his tusks tipped to remove the sharp ends. The other two, a female and a juvenile were next to him, all had a chain around one foot but freedom to move. There was a price list to one side with bathe, ride or feed and that was pretty much it! We went for bathe then followed the elephant and its trainer through someone’s back garden and into the spice farm.

She settled in some murky water and we were given coconut shells and told to go in and scratch her with them. She lay on her side with her head fully submerged and only the end of her trunk showing. We scrubbed her back, her head and then down her trunk. The trainer got us to put our hands over her trunk whilst she blew air. It is so powerful! She had the most beautiful intelligent eyes with massive dark eyelashes. I fell in love with her immediately! We gave her some space whilst she sat up and then were told to climb up her back leg and sit on her back. I felt a little nervous at first, she was so huge! But she was also really laid back! We sat there whilst here trainer shouted to her to spray us with water. We got absolutely drenched through. She was also able to predict him, filling her trunk before she was asked. When we got down it was Rick and Amanda turn and then we left. As we dried off she stood up and started grazing the trees and spraying water on herself. The trainer was helping her wash and scratching her face, they obviously had a very strong bond which was reassuring to see. It had been by far the best experience with a wild animal I have ever had. It was natural and she got as much enjoyment from the interaction as we did. I would go as far as to say it was my highlight so far.

After a well needed shower we were out again this time we were having a look at the beach. The weather had managed to clear up but down at the beach it became evident it was going to rain again. The beach was absolutely full of locals. It looked like the prime meeting point. It was like a where's wally for tourists, in fact all the beach sellers made a beeline for us!

It had began to rain and we had spotted some of our group sat in one of the beach bars, we quickly joined them and ordered a beer off the waiter who clearly wasn't on this planet. We began taking in our surroundings, Bob Marley and Jimi Hendrix posters adorned the wall, the "DJ" was playing every song by Pittbull ever made... Repeatedly and it was frequented by young Indian men. If we had any doubts as to the not so hidden agenda of the bar, these were quickly forgotten when the shifty eyed waiter offered Rick a shisha and then feigned offense when he asked for no drugs. Since Planty was out of clean clothes and the ones we had sent to be laundered wouldn't be returned until the next morning I offered to go and buy him a top for the evening. This was met with much enthusiasm by the other girls and we made a swift exit. We didn't have much time to browse as we had evening plans and I quickly chose a striped polo t-shirt for £2.50. We estimated how long it would take the boys to finish their beers and timed it just right so we didn't have to sit back down. I was greeted by an excited Planty "the man with the BBQ has a baby shark can you take a picture of me with it please" he proclaimed in one breath, I tried to argue the ethics of taking an animal out of the gene pool before it has chance to breed, but before I knew it I was stood taking a picture of him with a dead shark and then listened to him moan about how his hands stunk of fish all the way home and tried to get everyone to smell them! After the quickest change known to (wo)man we were out for our final group dinner. I couldn't believe that was our last one. However we definitely went out with a bang! They brought out the fresh catch and we didn't pay much attention to it. Planty typically opted for the most expensive thing on the menu, I chose a kingfish steak on the basis that I don't eat fish very much but being in Goa I should and I know I like tuna and swordfish steaks. Mine was nice, but Plantys was amazing! On the recommendation of the waiter he had abandoned his fish and prawn concoction and gone for the tandoori red snapper, part of the fresh catch. I'm sure he will fill you in on the details, however I must say I helped him eat it! I had some amazing chocolate creation for dessert. During the meal we had passed round an envelope to give Shaz a parting gift. He went out for a cigarette and we all followed. Planty being the master of spouting rubbish spontaneously gave a speech about how wonderful Shaz had been that had people in tears. I was very proud!

After a farewell drink, Planty who had over indulged slightly needed to go back to the hotel. We got a taxi which proved to be the slowest journey ever. It seems Friday night is party night in Goa and everywhere was packed. It was a relief to return to our less than pleasant hotel!

The plan for the next day was to check out hire mopeds to check out the other beaches north Goa has to offer. Mopeds are the mode of transport in Goa, and in India over the last two weeks we had many feats involving mopeds carrying different things including whole Indian families including mother holding tiny baby, goats, chickens and panes of glass. Also we had seen school kids zipping around on them... How hard could it be? We paid our £2.50 for a days hire and set off. Our first incident occurred when we were going down a dirt track. I felt Planty tense and his legs went out to stop, I think he misjudged how to turn. This shook me and the next turn I completely panicked making him have to slam on again, he shouted at me and when we met up with the others at breakfast, both times were my fault! I sulked for most of breakfast, partly because I could not stop shaking and I had been portrayed as a wimp and partly because it had begun to rain.. HARD. There was no way I was getting back on that thing in the rain. We toyed with our options, go shopping (my suggestion) go to the beach anyway because were only going to get wet (Plantys) and the one that eventually won- take the moped back and just go to our next place. We said goodbye to our group, perhaps not as emotional as it could have been as I was preoccupied about getting back on the death-trap, I don't think either of us enjoyed the journey back to the hotel and its safe to say mopeds were not my favourite mode of transport whilst in India, but we tried it! We managed to leave the hotel pretty much straight away, we were reliant on Shaz one last time to sort our taxi and we parted with him telling us if we need anything whilst in India or if we ever return to not hesitate to call, but soon after the realisation that we were once again on our own hit us. Its not that we don't enjoy each others company, its just a lot more daunting when there is two of you. We had become so dependant on Shaz and there is no way we could have done India without him, well we could but I would have been a nervous wreck by the end of it! It was so good to just immerse ourselves in India and not have to worry about the logistics. Being alone I was back playing the responsible one and I had enjoyed not having to. About hour and a half later we reached our second hotel. We had debated whether to keep our booking for the south Goan hotel as we only had one night there and were leaving early next morning. We had been told it was hours away and we had really concluded it wasn't worth it! However it wasn't that far, if we hadn't had the worlds slowest taxi driver and got lost the journey would have been minimal, however it felt like we were in a completely different country! The hotel was beautiful! There was complimentary drinks, toiletries and you could see all the way to the bottom of the pool! The bathroom had a separate shower cubical and you didn't have to walk through it to get to the toilet! We dragged ourselves out of our luxurious room and down a palm tree lined path to the beach. The long white sandy beach was desolate. There were lifeguards and a few local fishermen but you could lie here forever. The sun was shining and the stark contrast to north Goa was overwhelming. We relished the peace and quiet and just strolled up the beach, enjoying the moment. The only hassle we encountered were a couple of older ladies who were selling jewellery but seemed a little more interested in us then anything. Everyone seemed friendly here. The life guards said hi as you walk past, people stared but it was with curiosity whereas in north Goa it had felt slimy and intimidating. We stopped at a beach bar, the menu stated the salad was washed with mineral water so I had a Caesar salad, Planty was on the beer but my new favourite drink was fresh lime soda, basically for 40p you get a lime and soda made with fresh lime not cordial, massively refreshing sat in the sun! Every fruit juice is made fresh in India. You order pineapple juice, its a pineapple in a blender, watermelon juice, orange and so on! All for the price of a beer which is cheap anyway! We sat in the bar, looking out onto the beach talking about how much the rest of our group would love it. It was so strange, 15 days ago we had met as complete strangers but now it was strange to be apart. We had spent every waking moment with them and it was strangely quiet, and come to think of it conversation was abnormally tame! Walking back we met a bouncy mongrel who evidently wanted to play, she play bowed and wagged and barked then ran off into the sea and back again, the game quickly became Planty kicking water at her and her running off into the sea and then back for more. Soon she stopped and watched us as we continued to walk. It must have been a territory line. Its been hard not touching the dogs here, we are both so soft over them, and she was the worst. we just wanted to take her home! Back at the hotel there was time for a quick dip in the pool before dinner. Dinner was again good food but I think Plantys red snapper was still to fresh in his mind for him to properly enjoy it!

When my alarm went off at 4.30 the next morning I thought it was a joke! Instead of going back to sleep I sat and thought about why it was going off at that time, which was lucky because we were catching a flight to Chennai that morning! Our hotel arranged a taxi and we made it to the airport in around 30 mins. We were flying air India, our flight to Goa had been with spice jet so we had slightly higher expectations for air India, even the terminal put a stop to that! It wouldn't have looked out of place in a museum, "exhibit a is a replica of the first passenger airport, as you can see nothing was electronic, even the numbers on the check-in desks had to be changed by hand"... You get the idea! The plane was carpeted and patterned with an orange-brown- red design and we were sat behind the worlds worst group of idiots! I remember on one of the flights browsing the in-flight magazine and reading an article about the 10 worst ways to irritate your fellow passengers, these ticked all the boxes! They asked for extra food after it had been brought round, midered the flight attendants for coffee and their seats were back from the moment the cabin crew had finished making their take off checks until even after we landed. Putting the seat back irritates me, I can't help it. If they ask politely I can tolerate, however if they just throw it back, put their hands above their head and get in my personal space I get annoyed, especially when you have leg room fit for a toddler! He didn't even get the hint of a few well placed kicks, or the fact that we were not quiet in our criticisms of him, when the one in front of Planty followed suit I thought Planty might burst! Finally when we had landed he did, as I was trying to grab our belongings from the floor, he proceeded to dramatically throw his chair back and then push it when he found it wouldn't go any further because it was meeting my head! He seemed surprised when Planty objected to his girlfriend having a seat bashed across her head... We both stared disapprovingly as we left the aircraft!

we decided on another prepaid government taxi service from the airport and for £3.50 you can't really complain. We paid and them were quickly ushered towards a taxi, it was the same black and yellow monstrosity from Delhi... Come back to haunt us! However this one didn't smell of goat, it just had a lovely brown floral pattern on the floor, ceiling, doors, seats... Every surface in the cab in fact was floral! From the rear-view mirror hung an elaborate mix of tassels and key rings with Ganesh on them and a display of dead flowers and more statues of the elephant god covered his dashboard. The guy who's job it was to allocate taxis pestered for a tip, we refused saying we had no money, because we found him rude bur then ensured we tipped our taxi driver double (the look on his face said he knew our game) our arrival at the hotel was bizarre. We had booked five star because it was cheap and I thought it would be good to go from Dubai to basic backpacker accommodation to luxury, and ok I may have been sold by the pretty staircase in the pictures, but I wasn't expecting this! Before our taxi entered the premises a guard had a metal detector in the boot. We walked in the doors through the metal detector and were greeted by marble and chandeliers and good morning sir, madam. We had bottles of water and cold towels handed to us, in the meantime all I could think of was what do we and our grubby rucksacks look like after 2 weeks of India! We got to our room and to be honest we saw as much of Chennai as we did of Delhi! We did some sleeping, some blogging and skyping and ate lots! For our evening dinner we got dressed up and went to the rooftop restaurant. Here we had a waiter/ manservant who's name began with k, but that's all I remember. We were seated overlooking Chennai, I was slightly disappointed with Chennai if i'm honest, being the business centre and full of swanky hotels I expected more. The impression I've created of India is that the little towns each have their own unique charm, whereas the big cities are a segregated into the mega rich and those struggling to survive!

Anyway our meal was definitely a fitting goodbye to India, just when you think you're safe and nothing completely bizarre can happen, it does! Our waiter drove me mental, he needed permission from us to breathe! I know he must have been trained in that manner but seriously! He brought drinks over “can I open it” we finished a drink “can I clear” the same applied to when we finished eating, we asked for the bill “shall I get you the bill sir” he was exhausting! Also if you had a sip of water he was straight over pouring more into your glass, he just hovered for the whole meal! We ordered starters and mains, what we should have ordered was just a main and noodles or rice! Both the starter and main were exactly the same size and consistency, just different meats and sauces and my starter came with Plantys main and the waiter was spooning bits of it onto our plates, insisting we share dishes. Planty had prawns and mushrooms, two things I hate! Afterwards we went into the hotel bar and had a beer. This was the first place I had seen kingfisher on draft. These too gave us more snacks. They will literally have to roll me through customs if I eat any more. My plan for India was to get ill and lose loads of weight, in fact I had begun to believe it inevitable, everyone gets the dreaded “Delhi belly” don’t they? No is the answer, I ate so well in India and I’ve gained weight which was really surprising.

The next morning we waved goodbye to this amazing country. Our hotel said bye with a complimentary box of south Indian sweets (an acquired taste). We had tried to book a taxi again but failed, i'm sure Planty will go into the colourful detail so ended up travelling to the airport in a hotel car with “accord metropolitan” splashed up the side. We definitely began our trip to Sri Lanka in style, the rest of the journey is a whole new entry!



Shaz's favourite motto was “embrace the bizarre” and with India I certainly felt we embraced, squeezed and extracted every ounce of bizarre they had to offer! Every new town was a different level of strange and no two days were even remotely the same. India took us out of our comfort zones and really showed what we are capable of. I don't ever think my comfort zone will shrink back to what it was and I think I’ve learnt a lot about valuing experiences over possessions. I've really struggled to describe India, its one of those places where you cannot put into words what is happening to all your senses and many of the sights have to be seen to be believed. It is truly unique, like nowhere else!

My highlights were the elephant bathe, the tranquillity of Belbatim beach (South Goa) and the crazy day of the Ganesh festival in Udaipur when I felt we really did embrace the bizarre!







Plantys version: (Family i apologise for his colourful language!) Inside the station at Falna I was bursting for the toilet, and our guide showed us to the 'high class toilets', but like everything in India that is considered high class, you mustn’t expect a solid gold toilet, or a toilet at all in this case. The toilet was a choice of either 2 cubicles that had holes in the floor or a very smelly and unclean urinal. I opted for the urinal but had to hold my t-shirt over my nose due to repulsive smell from my surroundings, I would have much rather licked a sumo wrestlers arse crack than have to deal with the smell from that toilet again. Once I'd survived my ordeal of a high class toilet, we stocked up on crisps and biscuits, and headed across to our platform to wait for the train, all the while having every other passenger listen in curiously as our guide told us what to do when the train arrives, which carriage we where on and our seat numbers. A few of us had seat numbers that were on their own but our guide told us not to worry, just sit in them, and he would sort it out. After a few anxious minutes the train arrived, and with our backpacks strapped to our backs, we ran down the platform to the carriage, I waited and made sure all the girls where on before I climbed aboard (because I'm a true gentleman), but the train had barely stopped for a minute, and began to set off again, while I was part on the platform, part on the train.



We walked down the train to our seats, and observed our surroundings for what would be our new hotel for the night. As you walk down the carriage, there are bunk bed style things on the right hand side, lining the train all the way, while in the opposite side, there are bunk beds situated back to back all the way down the train, with a back rest that folds out to be the middle bed, sleeping 6 in each bay. I happened to get an aisle bed, while one of the girls ended up with 5 Indian lads, but our guide told us to stay in our seats, and give him 5 minutes. By now I knew we could trust our guide, every place we went he had so much attention, as we walked through the streets of various places, people shook his hand, and everywhere we ate, we discounted beer. He had a high level of respect from the locals, but then again, he's taking 14 westerners through India, so the more people keep him sweet, the more chance there is of us using their hotel/restaurant/tuk tuk etc. What our guide did for the next few minutes was ask people who weren't part of our group, but were sat with them, to move to accommodate for someone on their own, so we could all be sat together in one big group. People politely agreed without hesitation, they were more than happy to be of assistance, either that or they didn't want to be in the middle of the crude conversations that would get worse as the night progressed. Finally everyone was sorted, with me being moved into a bay with Lotty, Amanda and Rick (the Aussie couple), Greg, and Louise (Lotty's favourite person of the trip). As the train set off, the lads took it in turns to play 'what would you rather?' were they give the option of 2 disgusting choices, and you pick which one you would rather do, and as you can probably guess, it got more foul, more disgusting and very crude very quickly.



The hours rolled on, and people started to drift off to sleep while our bay was still in full flow of conversation, it was getting on for about 11pm, so we folded out our make shift shelves and settled down for the night. Me and Lotty had the privilege of sleeping on the fold out shelves, while the 2 girls slept on the bottom, and the other 2 lads, who were quite tall, had the top ones. As we didn't have pillows, and Lotty had bought some sort of sleeping bag liner for us to sleep in, we stuffed the part where a pillow goes, with shorts, socks, t-shirts and so on, which was fine, until you wake up at 3am with belt buckle sticking into the side of your head.



I kept waking up every few hours, after making sure our bags where still there, I drifted off again, apart from the time I was woken by some Idiots alarm, that got loader and loader as he tried to find the phone. He soon managed to find it when I shouted him to “TURN THAT F*****G ALARM OFF!!!!”, to which our guide gave him a bit of a telling off in Hindi too. 7Am arrived, and whether I liked it or not, I was to be kept awake by the sounded of 2 guys walking up and down the carriage offering masala chai and potato omelettes, in the most annoying, high pitched, screechy, put on voice in the world. Everytime they walked past, they received a collective 'no' from our bay, as they drifted down the carriage, Luke (a Scottish lad on our group, who had a great sense of humour) was coming back from the toilet when he mimicked the guys selling food, by offering 'Bacon butties, Sausage supper', which pretty much sent the entire group into fits of laughter, its was probably one of those 'you had to be there' moments, but I was still giggling about it hours later.



Safely off the train, we got a bunch of taxi's to the hotel, not before our driver decided to stop for his breakfast around the corner, leaving us all sweating our arse's off in the taxi wanting to gently remove every extremity from his body. After a journey that felt like 5 hours, we arrived, soaked with sweat, at our hotel, Mumbai was very muggy and sweaty, although there was a bit of cloud cover. We grabbed some breakfast and then received a bit of crap news. After our overnight train ride, and sweaty taxi journey, all I wanted to do was have a shower, but our rooms weren’t ready yet. There was only one room ready, so 14 of us piled our bags in there and tried to freshen up, to save time and avoid making people wait, me Lotty and Louise shared the bathroom to do our teeth, being as quick as we could when one of the older women on our group stood in the door way asking if we had finished yet. The 3 of us stood there, toothbrushes in mouths, with toothpaste halfway down our cheeks and gave her a vacant stare. Yes obviously we had finished in the bathroom, that's why we proceeded to stand in there brushing our teeth you absolute moron (I didn't speak to her or her friend much, because I had sod all to say to either of them, and they are both horrendously rude).



After our pitstop freshen up and change, we had a driver that gave us a tour of Mumbai, we stopped at Bombay University, which looks amazing from the outside. We couldn't go inside, but the gardens, the architecture and just the feel of the place looks fantastic, from there, we stopped at various pointless places until we got to the Gandhi museum, where we met up with another part of the group. I don't mean to sound a bit dense, but I didn't really know much about Gandhi, apart from he used to walk around everywhere semi-naked and with a smile that would make anyone thing he was high on drugs. The museum documented his fight for human rights, and the struggles he faced in the process, his struggles with illness and death. Some of the information and the things that he said were really interesting, there was one quote that he said that I liked so much, I'm contemplating getting it tattooed on me, which I'm sure will delight my mother.



From there we asked to be taken to the slums of Mumbai, which are the biggest in Asia. Mumbai has a population of around 20 million, and 55% of that lives in the slums, it's essentially a city within a city. Our drivers took us to the outskirts of the slums and gave us a quick tour, and I've gotta say, the living conditions are pretty grim, I knew that the further in you go, the worse it gets, but the outskirts were enough. It really makes you appreciate what you have back home when you see places like this. People who moan that they don't have Sky tv, or wi-fi, or they don't have the latest I-phone should take a trip down there. When we asked why we weren’t taken deeper into the slums, our drivers told us that it's not safe for westerners, and the further in you go, the higher the danger. We stopped at a bridge overlooking another part of the slums, when a local ladyboy approached us asking for money, I was confused at first as to what this creature before me was, it was definitely part man, with its hairy arms and Adams apple, but wearing a dress and make up? Very bizarre indeed.



So, slum tour over, we headed to the gateway of India to get a boat over to Elephanta island, and I was quite disappointed when I found out there are no elephants on there. While we waited for our tickets, a local with his camera asked if his friend could have a picture with one of the girls, she declined, but he took the picture anyway. Not wanting to cause a scene, the girl ignored him when he took another one, I decided to step in and remind the lad that she'd said no, and told him to get lost. The same lad then asked for my picture, practically begging me, I again said no, before he claimed that he knew who I was and that I'm famous. I was confused too, but after it felt like I was getting nowhere with the clown, I raised my voice slightly, and told him where to go. As we waited for the boat the same lad casually walked over and hurled some abuse at me in Hindi, to which I responded that I don't have a clue what he's saying, nor do I care, and for what felt like the tenth time, asked him politely to sod off.



Shortly after, some of the other group turned up and we headed to the island on the same boat, our guide had told us it takes about 45 minutes to get there, but he was wrong, it was more like 1 hour 45 minutes. Eventually at the Island, we followed the crowds to the bottom of the hill, passing dogs, goats, cows, chickens and monkeys on the way. I should have mentioned what elephant island is, it's an island with some hand carved temples, that's about it. One of the girls got freaked out by one of the monkeys who was screeching and trying to steal things off people, as she decided she didn't want to go, I said I'd stay back with her to keep her company, what I really meant, was I'd stay back with her and drink beer. We sat drinking beer, nice and relaxed in a air conditioned bar and waited for the others to come back, and they did a while later, covered in sweat and looking severely exhausted. Not for the first time on this trip, I think I made the right decision in sitting in a bar having a beer.



Back on the boat and heading for the mainland, the sea was ever so slightly choppy, and we all got drenched, although after the day we'd had, with no shower after the overnight train, a sweaty taxi ride and a tour of Mumbai, things couldn't get any worse. Back in Mumbai we got a couple of taxi's back to the hotel, and our driver decided to give Luke a lesson on how to drive in Mumbai and a guided tour of the city and discription of what we where passing on the roads, I was trying not to laugh when Luke pointed at a horse at the side of the road and sarcastically stated “that’s a horse” basically humouring the driver. Back at the hotel, we had a quick argument with the driver who tried to charge us more than we agreed, but he certainly wasn't going to win an argument with a lad from Glasgow.



Finally, we had the chance to have a shower, and it felt so good, like I said before, Mumbai is a very sweaty place, so it was good to get clean as we headed out for dinner, to a very famous place that made world news in 2008. The tragic terrorist attacks that took place in Mumbai in 2008 targeted a place called Leopold's, which has been famous with tourists and backpackers since it opened in 1876. The terrorists had struck at the Taj Hotel not far from away when they ran to the restaurant, threw a grenade in and opened fire on the customers and staff, so as you can imagine, I was rather nervous on the walk down there. The restaurant now has armed guards on each door, checking peoples bags as they enter, our table was over near the back wall and as we sat down, the extent of the attacks was still plain to see. 2 of the people on our table sat at the same place where shots had been fired into the wall, as they looked behind them, the bullet holes still remained in the wall. This was a frightful reminder of what had taken place that night.



The food in the restaurant was really good, like the majority of Indian foods, but the 3 litre towers of beer seemed more appealing, although they ruined it by filling them with carslberg. I don't want to sound like a snob, but I'd rather drink sea water that has been poured directly into my mouth from between Noel Edmunds unwashed toes than drink carlsberg, its just so bland and disgusting, never the less, we had beer to drink, and drink it we did, although I didn't enjoy it too much. After the meal we wanted to check out the bar upstairs, just for a quick look around, as was always the case with Leopold's, it was heaving, but as we turned to leave, I noticed yet another reminder of the attacks in 2008. 2 of the windows had been shot at, but they had not been replaced, the bullet holes and the shattered glass still remain in place, I felt an overwhelming shudder up my spine as we walked out, knowing that innocent people had suffered in this place.



Heading back to the hotel we got caught up in a monsoon, which wasn't the nicest thing to be caught up in. The heavens opened and within 30 seconds we were all drenched, it was pointless running for cover or getting taxi's because we really couldn't get any wetter, so we plodded on with our shoes squelching out the rain water and my hair product seeping down my face and into my eyes, just what I always wanted out of a holiday.



We left Mumbai the next morning bound for the airport to catch a flight to Goa. Although our visit to Mumbai was very brief, we were all happy to leave, everyone agreed that in general, Mumbai was a massive shit hole, I'd rather go swimming in the artic circle in a pair of speedo's than go back to Mumbai. We got into a taxi and headed for the airport, what seemed to be a common factor about our local drivers, is they are all bonkers, ours must have been about 65/70 years old and asked if we liked music, we reluctantly said yes, thinking it was going to be old school bollywood that he played, but it was modern dance music. We hurtled towards the airport with the music blasting, and everyone else on the roads thinking we were absolute lunatics, but it was our driver, he was crazy.



The airport was only a small one as it only catered for domestic flights, so we pretty much checked in, went through security and grabbed some lunch. Staying true to the stereotypical view of westerners, we all grabbed a KFC and scoffed it down as if it was our last supper. We didn't really do much else in the airport, well I bought a book, but that was really it. A while later we boarded our plane, and I'm not joking here, but we flew with 'Spice Airways', I thought it was a joke, but its actually an airline. The flight was quite short, about an hour I think, we also found out that a famous bollywood star was on board, but no one seemed to care. We landed a short time later to be greeted by a dull, cloudy Goa. After getting our bags, we headed outside to be greeted by our already waiting taxi's, and then it started to rain......great. We'd all been looking forward to Goa, a chance to unwind on the beach and really chill out, but I was starting to realise that this wasn't going to be the case.



We arrived after an hour drive through the tropical climate of Goa and arrived at our hotel and checked in. We were shown to our room which was out of the hotel, up a side street and up some dodgy looking stair case to our room. As was becoming common, we unpacked, showered, got changed and met up in the reception to go out for dinner. At the restaurant, we discovered that beer was even cheaper than previous places, so we started gulping away, deciding what to eat. I, being all macho, opted for a prawn vindaloo, partly because I'm stupid, but partly because I'm adventurous. We waited a while for our food, but I don't mind waiting for food, when it's good, but before our food came, I could feel some sort of regret about my choice of curries, I was beginning to think that I wouldn't be able to finish a vindaloo and would go hungry for the rest of the night, and the next morning my delicate bottom wouldn't be able to cope with pain of getting rid of a vindaloo. The food eventually arrived and I was highly surprised, a curry that is known in the UK for being nothing more than an extremely hot fireball burning its way through your digestive system, while removing multiple layers of skin from the inside of your mouth, was the tastiest dish I had tried so far on my travels. I sat there speechless at how delicious it was, there were so many flavours all working together to give you the ultimate taste in curry. I had to let the others try it, and they all agreed, that it was the nicest tasting curry they had tried, I was so happy with my choice. I cleared my entire plate wanting more. During our meal, the resort was hit by a monsoon, and the restaurant had slight gaps in the ceiling, as we where getting trickles of rain running down our backs we had to constantly move our tables out of the way. The street outside the restaurant was now a full flowing river, we waited for the rain to stop as we paid our bills, with our bellies full and ready for a few drinks at a local bar.



After a short walk we reached the bar and already had a long table set up for us, while the bar staff came over with free shots for us (which were the size of a triple shot back in the UK) we were informed that 330ml bottles of kingfisher were on offer at 2-4-1, what made it better was they worked out at 40p per bottle. The night wore on, and the alcohol consumption grew higher, eventually we all headed back to the hotel. When we got back I attempted to Skype my parents, I can't remember what the hell I was talking to them about because I was pretty hammered, I could have been telling them anything for all I know.



Feeling no exactly fresh, I was rudely awoken by Lotty telling me politely to remove myself from the bed, as it was time to get up, due to the amount of beer I had consumed hours earlier, this was a difficult task for me to deal with. We all headed to a local restaurant for some breakfast, which I was hoping would sort me out, then headed off on a small tour of Goa, 4 of us in a car with a driver. Me and Lotty set off with the Aussie couple, first stop was to be north Goa, basically to see some old churches. Still not feeling too good, we reached our first destination with me walking around like a half eaten caterpillar, struggling to find enthusiasm as we wandered aimlessly around the church, all the while noticing that the weather didn't look too pleasant. As we made our way to the second church, a gust of wind swept past us, I knew the weather was about to make a turn for the worse. About 2 minutes later, the heavens opened, not like the typical British rain, this was tropical monsoon rain, and as was the same in Mumbai, and the previous night in Goa, we looked like rats that had been submerged in a swimming pool as we desperately ran to find shelter. We reached the same spot that we had been dropped off at by our driver but couldn't find him, we basically wanted to get the hell out of the area quickly!



As the others stood in the shelter, I (in my severely hungover and unimpressed state) decided to have a quick run further down the road to see if our driver had parked up, although I didn't even know what car he was driving. Just before I had decided that I'd had enough showers for the day, and headed back to the others, a parked car began beeping his horn and flashing his lights, being confused, I thought it was some local nutter who wanted to lure me into his car with the promise of sweets and chocolate. Turns out it was our driver, as I found out soon after when he swiftly came to our rescue as we rung our clothes dry at the side of the road.



Thankfully out of the rain and into our car, we opted to head to the next port of call for the day, the spice farms, to which we had read that they have elephants that you can wash and feed. Arriving at the spice farms, the rain had started to subside, and we made our way inside to wait for our tour of the farms. I won't bore you with a lot of details (I know Lotty loves to do that), but our tour consisted of us being shown how various spices such as cinnamon, cloves, curry leaves and so on, are grown, the foods they are used in, and any medicinal purposes they hold.



Tour over, it was time for lunch, hopefully this would sort my stomach out a bit, as I still wasn't feeling 100%. As we waited for the buffet to be prepared, we were all given a free 'shot' of Fenny (local spirit), I say shot, it was basically a double shot, not what I needed in my hungover state. I didn't drink it all, but I did try and sip it, just to see what it tastes like. I wouldn't really say it has a taste, as the only thing I experienced as I sipped it was my entire mouth and oesophagus eroding as the spirit attacked my insides. The buffet arrived, and as usual, I was the first in line, surveying what was on offer, which all looked delicious, apart from the lime pickle in one of the dishes. For those who aren't familiar with this dish, lime pickle is used in the UK at Indian restaurants as an accompaniment to food, but has a horrendously overpowering sensation of bitter, sour and spicy. For the first time that day, I avoided the dish, basically because I knew it tastes like a 9 volt battery, the same however, could not be said for Rick. As we all sat down, I noticed the huge dollop of lime pickle in the middle of his plate, and it quickly crossed my mind, he had no idea what that was, I should have told him what it was....but I didn't.



Sat there trying not to smirk, and giving him the 'that looks good' expression on my face, I watched as he scooped up some lime pickle and went to eat it. It felt like a lifetime from the fork leaving the plate to reaching his mouth, but as soon as it did, and he began to chew on it, his facial expression was priceless. His eyes wider than the Mersey tunnel and open mouthed face was an absolute picture, followed by his outbursts of 'what the hell is that?' and 'oh my god! That’s hideous', as I sat there giggling like a school kid to myself, to which he realised that I knew what he had just eaten. Coincidentally, I felt a lot better at this time, probably because someone else in our group was not having the best of times.



We headed out of the spice farm slightly annoyed, we had wanted to go there for the sole reason of the elephants, we had seen pictures of them around the farm, but they were nowhere to be seen. We stopped at the entrance desk and enquired, and they simply told us to tell our driver and he would take us to them. A short drive around the corner (basically at the back of the spice farm), we came across the place to wash, feed and ride elephants, for a very small price. We went in and opted the wash, as we followed our elephant into a very familiar large stream that we had walked across not long before in the spice farm. The elephant walked into the stream and under the command of its owner, lay on its side, almost fully submerged in the water, apart from the tip of it's trunk. Lotty and I went in first, using a coconut shell, we scrubbed the massive creature as it lay so placid without a care in the world, while our Aussie mates took photo's for us. A few minutes later, the elephant was commanded to sit up, allowing us to climb on top of her, using her leg and bum cheek as steps to manoeuvre into position, this was the part we had all been looking forward to. We sat just behind the elephants head and waited as the owner gave a command....all was quiet, for a few seconds at least, then we realised what was happening as the elephants trunk rose from the water, over its head and squirted us with water like a fire hose. The command was basically to fill the trunk with water, and give us a shower, not for the first time that day. As we sat on the elephant getting even more drenched and trying to pose for pictures, a sudden feeling came over me, one that I had felt in Udaipur when we got caught up in the passing festivals. This day, that had started so bad for so many reasons, and had proceeded to get worse, was now one of those days that I will look back on for years and years to come as one of the best experiences in India, and of all time.



Anyway, enough of that soppy crap, about 10 minutes passed by and we got wetter and wetter and wetter, the owner asked if we would like to get down, Lotty did, but I stayed on, feeling like Mogli from the jungle book as me and my elephant sat chilling in the stream, with me getting a torrent of water sprayed in my face every minute or so. Eventually I felt that I'd had enough, and it was time for the Aussies to have their turn to wash this oversized creature and have a cannon of water fired at them repeatedly. As they had done for us, we took pictures for them as they enjoyed their time on top of our new favourite animal.



We left the site and headed back to our hotel, all with massive grins on our faces, and all had the same things to say about what we had just experienced with the elephant, we all loved it, and it was our favourite thing that we had done in India so far. Arriving back, we decided to have a quick shower and change, and head to the beach to see what there was to do for the next day. We walked up the beach, which was full of locals, as ever starring at us as if we had just came up with a cure for being a Man United fan (I hope that one day someone will find a cure for this terrible disease), and were surprised that we were the only westerners around. So, doing what westerners do best, we headed for a shop to buy some beer, the perfect hangover cure of course. The girls being sensible, declined our offer of a Kingfisher Strong (which by the way is beautiful, even if it is 8%) so we headed back along the beach, beers in hand looking like a couple of typical chav's swigging on their tennants super strength lager, when we noticed another of the girls waving at us hysterically as if she was about to eaten by a walrus. Heading over to the bar she was in with another lad, we pulled some tables together and got even more beer, and a shisha for the table obviously. Time passed by quite quickly as it suddenly became almost time for our last meal with the group, so rapidly heading back to the hotel, we met up with everyone.



I always looked forward to our evening dinners with the group, but with this being our last, I felt quite sad about it too, but I knew we'd have a good time. Our restaurant was on the beach and we'd been told by our guide (who know's his stuff about eating in India), that this one of the best in the region. As always, we analysed the menu while gulping down the very cold and very cheap beer, and I had opted for a seafood dish, as that's what Goa is famous for. Pomfret stuffed with prawns is what I had asked for when the waiter came over, but he told me that this dish is not good, the fish is horrible, and all you can taste is prawns, feeling a bit disappointed and also trusting him, I asked for his recommendation, as my previous choices have turned out to be a vulgar green colour, so tandoori red snapper it was.



While we waited for our food, I felt a bit nervous (as I had done the night before), had I made the right choice? Was I going to be severely disappointed? This was our last meal together, I really wanted to have a good dish, and when it was placed down infront of me, I knew I had done the right thing. The food was spectacular, they hadn't bothered chopping the fishes head of tail off, they just covered it in spices and threw it in the oven, I couldn't get enough of it, if the curry I had the previous night was the best one I've ever had, this was the best seafood I've ever had. I wished we had more time with the group to eat at more amazing places like this, but all good things must come to an end, but not before we got say a group thank you to our guide.



We had mentioned getting him a gift, like a bottle of rum, but they only cost £3.80, and getting him one each is a bit excessive, so we opted for money, think of it as a large tip. While he was engaged in conversation, we passed an envelope under the table to each other and put the agreed amounts in and came up with a plan of when to give it him. Rick went out for a cigarette and asked Shaz (our guide) to join him, but Shaz had just had one, I started to think of another plan, before Rick insisted Shaz joined him, that was our cue to get ready. As soon as they went down the steps onto the beach I stood up, ushering everyone outside to join them, much to the surprise of Shaz who with a confused look began asking what was going on. Rick then began talking, telling Shaz that the cigarette was an excuse to get him out here as we had something to say....and then passed proceedings over to me. With everyone's eyes fixed on me, I knew I had to make this special, I had to highlight how good Shaz had been to us over the past couple of weeks, every time we needed something, Shaz sorted it, every time we went somewhere, ate some where, visited somewhere, Shaz was the guy who made sure we got there, got what we wanted and saw what we wanted. I know it's all part of the job, but when the guy is on call to us 24/7 for 15 days, he needs to be shown much more gratitude than just a thank you.



I don't know how I did it, but I managed to pull off a speech that seemed to impress my fellow travellers, with most of them congratulating me later on my public speaking skills. Shaz does these tours all the time, all across India with only a couple of days off inbetween, a few days later, he'd have a different group to look after, but I wanted him to always remember us for as long as he could. As I ended the speech and passed him the envelope, I could see in his eye that what I had just said really meant something to him, and people didn't do that kind of thing all the time, he gave a quick speech back thanking us all for taking part and everyone headed back inside, me and Rick stayed outside for a short while when Shaz highlighted how we'd made the trip so much fun for him, our constant jokes and banter must have been a change to the norm of what he's used to, but nevertheless, I felt good for making the speech.



We left the restaurant and headed for the bar we had visited the previous night, me and Lotty only stayed for one because I felt pretty rough, probably from beer, probably from all the food I'd just eaten, but we decided to get our heads down for the night. The next day was departure day, we were free to leave at any time, and most of the older ones did, but we had decided to hire a couple of mopeds and head down to Baga beach to have a ride on some jet-ski's. Paying 250 ruppees (£2.90) for a moped, without asking for our driving licenses our if we knew how to drive one, we set off stopping at the same restaurant we had breakfast in the previous day. As we sat there waiting for our food, the heavens once again opened, we waited for a few hours to see if the rain would pass by so we could head to the beach, but it didn't. We sadly decided that it was our time to leave the group and head to south Goa to our accommodation that we had booked separately to the trip, as the weather would probably be better there.



Saying goodbye to the group was quite upsetting, and it's different than when you say goodbye to someone you meet on a 2 week holiday elsewhere. We had been through so much together, over the past 15 days, travelling from Delhi to Goa, experiencing the highs and lows of India, the moto for G Adventures (the company we used) was “embrace the bizzare”, and we had all done that so well as a group. We had all been there for each other, lent money when the useless ATM's of India didn't accept anything other than curry leaves, shared stories of our home countries and towns and really had a good time together. I think the thing that upset me the most, was from that point until we get to Australia, it was just me and Lotty, how on earth was I going to survive the next couple of months with just her? God help me. We said our goodbyes, both feeling upset, although we knew we were going to see Rick and Amanda because they live 10 mins from where we will be staying in Melbourne, and we would meet up with Louise.



Back at the hotel, again drenched from the rain, we dropped our moped off and met up with Shaz, who told us that he'd sort out a taxi for us to take us to south Goa. After our final farewell and another thank you for all that he had done for us, we set off in some sort of mini van type thing, with our 90 year old driver not being able to get out of 2^nd gear, or go over 25 miles per hour. A journey that should have taken 1 hour took nearly double as he had to stop a few times to ask locals where the hotel was, and eventually we arrived. The hotel was amazing, certainly a step up from the cheap and not so cheerful cesspit’s that we had stayed in over the last 15 days, and it had a clean pool, which was nice. As we only had the one night in the hotel (due to our original direct flight from Goa to Sri Lanka being cancelled) we decided to make the most of our time there, got a quick shower, changed, and headed for a stroll down the beach.



South Goa was definitely a much more idyllic setting than where we had just come from, the beach was deserted, no one trying to sell us anything, it was pure bliss. We discussed how, although it may cost slightly more, we thought our trip should have ended in south Goa, it really was just what we needed after a heavy, hectic and fast paced schedule travelling the country, and we wished our fellow travellers could have been there to soak up the very welcoming sunshine that we enjoyed. We stopped for lunch (and beer obviously) on the way back to the hotel, and enjoyed a quick dip in the hotel pool, before making sure we had everything ready for our very early departure to the airport the next morning.



5am was our pick up time from the hotel to quickly whisk us to the airport to catch our flight to Chennai, where we would stay for 1 night. This all seems a bit pointless, staying in south Goa for less than 24 hours, flight across to the other side of India, but there is a reason. Our original plan was to spend 2 full days in south Goa, then fly from there to Sri Lanka, but the ever so pleasant people at Kingfisher Airways, decided to go bankrupt not long before we left the country. Due to us having accommodation already paid for in Sri Lanka on a certain date, the only feasible way of sorting another flight was to cut our stay in south Goa down to 1 night, get a flight from there to Chennai, stay there for 1 night, then fly out the next morning, it was a real pain in the arse. So, we got to the airport, and my god, it's an absolute dump, looks like it was designed by a blind hippy, built by the entire cast of Trainspotting and had survived several civil wars, of all the airports I've ever visited, this one was the absolute worst.



Thankfully, due to the stupid hour that we got there, the time went pretty quickly, and even though the flight was late, we made it away from that dreadful airport. As was becoming more common, we got fed on the flight, again it was only a short one, about 1 hour 15 minutes, and it was breakfast time, I was so happy. I had a quick look at the food, one of the things on my tray being an omelette, and quickly got to work scoffing the food, which was delicious, until I realised it had green chillies in it. I don't mind spicy food, but not at silly o'clock in the morning, for my breakfast, on a plane, by now I was seriously craving a good bacon butty.



We arrived in Chennai, got our bags and headed to our hotel in a taxi, about a half an hour drive away. The hotel was amazing, a 5 star hotel with security guards who check the boot of the car, and underneath to make sure there are no explosives, or other dangerous devices. Once inside, every single staff member stopped what they were doing, placed their hand on the heart, bowed, and greeted you, this was the sort of service I could have done with over the past few weeks. We checked in and headed to our room, collapsing on the beds from lack of sleep and waking up a few hours later, just in time to order some room service, as we had missed out on lunch.



We didn't leave the hotel, party because we didn't have time, and mostly because I couldn't be bothered, I'd seen most of it from the taxi to the airport. A few hours later it was time for dinner, and our last meal in India, so what do you have for your last meal in India? A Chinese of course! The hotel had a roof top restaurant overlooking Chennai, but it only served Chinese food, but we ate there anyway, more for the novelty of the restaurant being on the rooftop. Our waiter was ever so polite but didn't half ask some idiotic questions, like when he came over with our drinks, he placed my bottle of beer down with the lid still on and asked me if I would like him to open it. I replied 'yes please' while thinking, no it's alright mate, you leave that bottle there, and I'll use my super human powers to extract the beer through the glass bottle and ingest it that way, bloody moron! The food was quite nice, although again, the waiter made a slight balls up. He brought my main course out, then a short while later, Lotty's starter arrived, then my starter, then Lotty's main course, all the while he was trying to split each dish between the 2 of us. I put this down to him not understanding why we ordered starters and main courses, but all in all, the food was good.



We headed down to one of the hotel bars for one drink before we went to bed, and for the first time in India, I saw a place that sold kingfisher on draught, but looking back I wish I never had one. In the UK, cleaning beer lines is a weekly task to ensure that the best quality beer is being served, as yeast builds up in the lines, hampering the taste, although I'm not too sure that this method of cleaning has been discovered in India. I'd drank Kingfisher in bottles of the last few weeks and loved it, but the stuff on draught tastes like horse wee (no I don't drink horse wee, but I would rather have done so that night), I felt like I needed to bleach the taste from my mouth.



Reluctantly finishing my beer, we got our bags packed (again) and got our heads down for our final night in India. Next morning, after a quick balls up trying to organise a taxi, we had to settle for the hotel to take us, which was 3 times more expensive, but the cars did have air conditioning and free bottles of water, so yet again, we headed to the airport. We checked in with no problems, and with nothing to do, we sat in a corner and waited for our flight to be called, I kept checking the screens just to be sure. Without thinking what I was putting on earlier that morning, I grabbed a Liverpool top, thinking nothing of it, until a guy in the airport that looked like Usain Bolt walked past me, pointed at my top, smiling and said something which sounded like he was offering me a guinea pig I think.



Not long later we began to board our flight to Sri Lanka, after the past few weeks I couldn't wait to lie on a beach for a few weeks and relax after the hustle and bustle of India. But looking back and thinking about things, I really didn't want to go to India, it was the one country out of all the one's we were going to that I was not looking forward to the most, but I had the time of my life. I think what made it better was the people we did it with, there is no way me and Lotty would have been able to do that tour on our own, without a guide and the friends we made along they way. The sights, sounds, smells, experiences not to forget the good times with others, the drunken conversations and even the sober ones too, all made the trip well worth it. I was happy to be leaving India to see a new country, but I knew deep down that I would truly miss it, I though Morocco was really insane, India takes insane to a whole new level. I never though I'd ever say this, but I loved India and everything about it, and I'd have no problems in going back and doing it all over again.

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