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Published: January 18th 2010
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I pull it down from the attic, dust off the cobwebs and look at it adoringly. The backpack has made a sudden comeback. I never really supposed I would travel with it again, but here I am easing it's thick padding onto my hips. Not that it weighs much - fully loaded for the trip to India it's a mere seven kilos. If I remember correctly, the heaviness of the experience of India necessitates a light a load as possible in life possible in order to find the space to appreciate the country. That was eighteen years ago. This time....
This time is different. I'm travelling with family. And I'm travelling with some (albeit limited) interest. The departure date is as hectic as one might expect when trying to haul a family of five on their first trip to India. We land at Thiruvanathapuram, the capital of the state of Kerala, south India. India has a way of impacting all of one's senses simultaneously such that there is an initial shock, an initial heightened sensation, an awakening if you like that lets one know that one is in India. It smells. The smell is one of heat, dirt, sweat, spices
and hard work. It's also hot. A scorching burning kind of hot that makes standing still hard work. It's noisy. A noise that is alive with life, people, traffic and chaos.
That moment is a bit of a deja vu moment for me. For India is exactly as I had remembered it eighteen years ago. Not a single thing different. In that moment I am also ready to leave, for what I really need is a holiday, not an exotic and interesting travel experience. Still, I am here, and so I shall endeavour to make the most of it.
We spend several days with my dad's sister and her husband in the coastal town of Kovalum, having the opportunity to get to know many of the locals (as my aunt/uncle live there part of the year), and taking walks along the beach. It's not quite a beach holiday in the sense of bikinis and beach bums - to my surprise Indians bathe in the sea fully clothed! I've always known that the overt display of flesh is generally frowned upon by the Indian community (with the exception of Bollywood movies) but to swim in the sea in a
sari is something else! Anyway, we don't swim in the sea - we merely use the beach as a chance to watch fishermen bring the nets in, and to catch an evening breeze after supper. We spend a day lazing on a boat in the backwaters and then it is time to move.
We drive six hours northbound to Cochin. A place acclaimed by travel guides for being wonderful, relaxed, travel worthy. Our experience is somewhat contrary to say the very least. We arrive at a shocking hotel in an impoverished area near the old Jewish settlement. That is to say, the hotel and surrounding buildings are crumbling to pieces, rats are scuttling around finding treats to eat, stray dogs roam the roads, and suspicious eyes cast their glances every which way we turn. Horrified, dad checks us out, finds a business hotel and puts us all in there for the night. The next morning we move hotel again to something more reasonably priced. One day in Cochin and three hotels. Jeez this travel stuff is exhausting. I remember now why I prefer holidaying to travelling. The one thing we do like about Cochin is the harbour - its
a chilled out walkway with lots of trees for shade. Needless to say, we don't have time for much sightseeing.
Next stop is Goa. We fly from Cochin to Bangalore's shiny airport, and then onto the state of Goa. This, I am told is to be the relaxing part of the trip. Unfortunately however, we arrive to discover that a hotel has been arranged for us in Baga, the north of the state - an abysmal excuse for a holiday destination that is paramount to the 'Costa del Sol' of India. It's dirty, loud, noisy and crowded. My sister and I recoil at the thought of spending another four days here and so once again we find ourselves in an internet cafe til midnight researching good locations and decent hotels. We finally find something in the south of Goa and take a taxi there. Fortunately it's much nicer but by this time I am simply tired. Tired of travelling, tired of India. I'm exhausted, with a mosquito ridden body, that is also suffering from ongoing stomach upsets. So much for being appreciative. I can say one positive thing about the trip - time with family. It's something that we
haven't had much of in recent years and it's nice to have had the time together. Next time though, we're going back to summers in Cornwall eating scones and ice creams on the pebbled Cornish coves.
The last couple of days in Goa improve as we meet family friends who are out here overseeing the construction of their recently purchased holiday home. They take us out to eat at their favourite restaurants, resorts and beaches. My sister and I also take an evening out for some pampering - ayurvedic massages and french manicures. We drink freshly squeezed sugar cane juice, we shop for saris and we stroll the shops late at night.
The final leg is Mumbai. Flying into the state of Maharastra we are all a little apprehensive for we have heard many a bad thing about this big busy city - from high crime rates, pollution to poverty and general hustle and bustle. To my surprise - I love it! I'm a city girl at heart and that could have something to do with it, but there's something about the architecture, the busyness of the people, the variety of things to see, do, eat, the beautiful
parks, the languages, the sheer vibrancy of the place that has me feel it's a good end to a bad trip. As my parents continue north onto Gujarat and Rajasthan, I am happy to be back on homeground.
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