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Published: December 20th 2011
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We flew from Rajastan Province to the smallest province in India, Goa, which was a Portuguese colony for hundreds of years.It’s much cleaner than Nothern India and we felt like we were on vacation from India. It’s loaded with beaches and the alcohol is blissfully cheap. We even bought some palatable wine produced in India and Portugal for under $10 a bottle.
We stayed with the sweetest grandmother and her family in Anjuna. I asked her how long she’d lived in Goa and she said, “I was born in Kenya but moved here with my husband and children in 1963.” She raised her hand and exclaimed, “Oh, I’ve had a very interesting life. So many stories I could tell but it would take so much time. Days!” She dropped her arm as if to emphasize how exhausting that would be. I thought I’d love to sit and listen but didn’t want to impose (though I managed to get at least one interesting story out of her.) Her name was Clara, same as my own grandmother, and she had such a positive energy and adorable demeanor. We intended to stay only a few days but it was so pleasant a
place that we decided to extend for a whole week to which Clara replied, “Splendid, carry on!”
We rented a motorbike and explored a few other beaches such as Vagator which was my favorite due to it’s double crescent of sand interspersed with rocky outcrops and backed by hills sprouting coconut palms. (I’m narrowing down my description of the ideal beach – not very large, crescent shaped, masses of palms, mountain backdrop, soft white sand, turquoise water that’s clear as air and warm as a bath. No buildings taller than two stories, preferably only built of bamboo, wood, and if absolutely necessary, glass. And best if they’re tucked behind the palm trees. Ooh, and cheap beer and tasty food. All of this in one package doesn’t exist but it’s fun to dream.) vagator is chock full of Russians and most guys would love it here as the slim figured Russkie girls wear the tiniest thong bikinis. As they walked down the beach in little more than shoestrings, my grandmother’s words echoed in my head, “Why she’s naked as a jaybird!” OMG, being around Clara has channeled my gram!
We took a 7 or 8 hour train ride
to Hampi in Karnataka Province which has piles of dusky sandstone formations like Simi Valley but strewn with ancient temples, coconut palms and rice fields. We stayed in one of the hippy hangouts alongside a rushing river where you sit on cushions and eat at low tables. Several guesthouse restaurants play movies each night. We watched “Horrible Bosses” which made us laugh so hard we looked like complete idiots. Perhaps you have to be American to get some of it but it’s also likely that any movie would have had us in stitches after a month without TV.
We took another train to Bangalore to get our laptop fixed. I was told that the OS was corrupted and the simplest solution was to reset it to the factory settings which wiped it clean. Seemed like the sledge hammer approach but at least I can use the internet again. Thank Shiva for Dropbox so I could easily recover my data!
Bangalore had significantly less rubbish and filth than Delhi but the air quality was atrocious. After walking around for a couple of hours through the black plumes spewing from cars, I felt like I’d been sucking on
Child Labor
This was taken on a Wednesday. It's not a factory but just the same, the kid's not in school. Maybe I shouldn't have even taken a pic which perhaps encourages it. At least I didn't photograph any of the snake charmers. As soon as a hint of a tourist nears they pop the top off of the little basket. To avoid actually getting hurt, they cut out the fangs of such snakes which often results in infection and death. We saw a "charmer" so intently watching us that he didn't notice his snake snap his hand. Oops, the jig is up. a tailpipe. Our eyes burned and my throat was sore. Throughout our time in India I felt like I was coming down with a cold. We did succumb to one about a week into our trip but after that I think it was just symptoms from all the crap in the air. You’d think a Los Angelino would be immune but no. You’d have to be a coal miner circa 1900 for the place to not irritate your respiratory system.
Finally we flew to Cochin in Kerala province. There’s a peninsula there called Fort Cochin with several blocks of Colonial buildings, some have been renovated and converted to hotels while many are still in various states of disrepair. We took a day tour of the “backwaters” which refers to a river system that empties into lake and eventually into the Arabian Sea. The large brackish lake contains several lush islands where villagers live along man made canals. It’s very somnolent and peaceful after being in the city and it’s flitting with bird life and a few water snakes.
We prepaid for an overnight tour of the tea plantations in Munnar but Toby’s back went out on him
and he had to stay in Fort Cochin taking pain killers and resting up. I went without him and I almost regretted how beautiful it was as he wasn’t there to share it. It’s high above the smoggy cities, refreshingly cool, clean and organic. The flat topped, mushrooming rows of tea form psychedelic mazes of lime and emerald green. A stop in a tea factory showed the process though I only caught about a third of the blurb issued in heavily accented Inglish. The room where leaves were being dried/fermented smelled like an herbal bath of balsam. I did catch that green, white and black tea all come from the same plant which can live up to 100 years. The best quality tea comes from the new buds and the top two leaves beneath which are plucked by hand. When tea is cut into tiny pieces it turns black due to oxidation just like an apple. It’s dried and sifted. There are tea tasters who grade the tea and blend each batch for a consistent flavor.
One of the most unique Indian customs I’ve witnessed is the Indian head bobble. I noticed it in the north but in the
Any excuse for a party
It makes you wonder what was erased from the penultimate star. south it’s rampant. A person down here can’t finish a sentence without tossing in one or two bobbles for extra effect. Try making a figure 8 with your head swiveling on your neck but do it really fast and you’ve kind of got the idea of what it looks like. Some people also get a little right to left action going at the same time which can mislead you into believing they’re disagreeing. At first I thought this was used by persons who felt I was being an idiot for not understanding them or for irritating them with a stupid question but it could also mean, yes, no, maybe, thank you, it was nice talking with you – i.e. blimy anything! And it’s catching. I found myself unconsciously bobbling when talking to locals!
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Marius
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Hey
Hi guys! Long time no see (hope you remember Marius from Samoa:)! Can't believe you're still traveling! That's fantastic. Have you been home since you left? Hope you're having a great time still. In a few years I reckon I'll pack up and go too. I'm still in Sydney though and enjoying it here. Apart from a couple of trips back home, I haven't been travelling much since Samoa I'm afraid Take care and have a great Christmas! Cheers, Marius