Mumbai, West India

"Chai, coffee, chai, chai, chai, coffee" yelled a man walking through our carriage who had probably just jumped on at the last stop. 

Mumbai Central Train Station

We waved at him from our third story bunk, where our shoulders touched the roof when we turned and our breath left condensation above us. 
He poured two piping hot plastic cups of sweet tea and moved on. 

It was still early, probably around 5am. The sky outside was a grey blue and the light rain which had started several hours ago had already seeped through the roof onto the dirty floor. 
It's was muggy and the hair at the back of our heads stuck to our damp necks. Our eyes were heavy but opening them meant looking at the people who seemed to always be staring at us. The train was whistling, we were already at Mumbai, old Bombay, and the most populous city in India. With more than 21million people crowded in the harbour city, it looked like they were living on top of each other. Disoriented we clambered onto the concrete platform barely missing the odd shaped legs of the homeless beggars. 

Off into the rain

Hunger was our strongest motivation, but it was early and not much was open. We put aside the pangs of emptiness and sought out the ticket office; we needed to keep moving. We knew looking out of the train window at the people defecating on the train tracks, Mumbai wasn't for us. 

With late afternoon tickets to Udaipur secured in our money belt we scavenged for something to eat. In the main terminal was a small cafe, and since it was the only thing open we thought that it would do. As we ate our breakfast we realised, just across from us, a family were eating off a cardboard casket. Grandad was probably in there, god knows how they were going to get him in the train, probably lean him up against something. Nice, there went our appetite, which had already been wavering. 

Central Train Station

Walking the main streets

It was still drizzling down but it wasn't cold, so we decided to have a walk around the city for a few hours (with of course our one huge umbrella). Outside it was busy with morning commuters, racing across the roads forcing the cars to swerve around them, honking in annoyance. The rain had pushed rubbish around, leaving it behind in the gutters causing the dirty water to cover half the road and splash on pedestrians, stray cows or the sides of buildings as the ongoing slaughter of traffic sped by every which way.

All modes of transport

Animals scurrying about

A goods carrier

According to latest figures from the World Bank more than half of Mumbai's population live in slums, while thirty percent of those have no shanty house and live on footpaths. It's estimated that 100-300 new families come to Mumbai every day and with little housing options they join the growing 10.5million living already in slums. Having seen hundreds of kilometres of them along the railway line we decided rather to explore the city centre, sticking to the main roads.

The Coastline looking towards the CBD

From the Mumbai Central Railway station we ventured west towards the Muslim pilgrimage site of Haji Ali Dargah, which is one the most popular religious places in Mumbai. On the way we were forced to stop for morning tea, hiding from a thunderous burst of torrential downpour. After waiting it out we continued on, waving our temperamental GPS around trying to figure out where we were going. There didn't seem to be any street signs, just that awful smell of sewage following us everywhere. We passed some beautiful buildings surrounded by oak trees and large fences built by the Portuguese and French. 

Path to Haji Ali Dargah

Alongside them, under more thinning trees were corrugated iron awnings where the small faces of grubby children peered out. Their eyes already reflecting loss and hardship. Some shanties built two or three stories high, surrounded by flood water and accessible only by waddling through a small mosquito invested swamp.

The Haji Ali Dargah was surprisingly a couple of hundred meters off the filthy uninhabitable coastline set away some distance on moldy green rocks, accessible by a long curving concrete path. 

The smell of the seaside was atrocious, something worse than a horror film and had us gagging. The large dirty-white mosque, is also the tomb of a wealthy Muslim merchant who gave up all his worldly possessions before making a pilgrimage to Mecca. The mosque was built in 1431AD in memory of Muslim Saint Pir Haji Ali Shah Bukhari. It's said 10,000-15,000 people visit daily to receive blessings from the legendary Saint, but thankfully the low grey sky and rain had made the white coloured structure almost empty of visitors when we arrived. Aware that maybe their sales weren't prospering as much hawkers and salesmen hounded us as we got closer, racing away from the stench. Walking through the entrance each took a turn to thrust their Chinese-bought wares in front of us and calling out for our immediate attention.

We didn't stay long, the rain had started up again and we were very exposed out on the streets so we stopped in at a mall. The security looked us up and down. Our soggy clothes clinging to us, our jandaled feet a strange brown colour darkened from the monsoonal streets and our large backpacks waving like a turtle shell behind us. But our white skin spoke money and they let us in. 

Taking a rest stop

Inside the mall

Dinner at the Train Station

Locals waiting for trains

By the time we returned to the train station we were exhausted, so dirty and smelly and our shoulders ached from carrying our bags around all day. It was a relief to get on the train and have a lie down.

Tot siens,

John and Kara

Colva, Goa, India

Traveling east to Goa on threw the Karanataka mountains

The power is off, again. It’s dark, no its pitch black. Local dogs bark loudly at each other and cars beep their horns outside. We can hear young boys playing local tunes on their phones in the street. With an hour of battery left in the computer it’s a perfect time to relax, have a beer and contemplate our journey so far.

Many have described India as a land of possibilities. We have come to find that anything is possible in India. You want it, it will be found. It’s not on the menu? No problem the chef will make. Price to high? … well that’s actually negotiable.

A special present for Kara from India's
wine region Nashik

A true Indian has a hard time, and will avoid at all cost, using the word no. Rather than a verbal answer you will get a fast head side waggle, translating as ‘ok’. Do we need to get on the train to upgrade? ‘Ok’. Is it a pay toilet? ‘Ok’. Which way is the beach? ‘Ok’. What time is check out? ‘Ok’. Although it sounds like a laugh.. it can be mucho frustrating!

The head waggle is also used as a form of greeting a stranger and means ‘hello, ok, I’m friendly’. As foreigners emulating the waggle it usually causes much laughter and just as much unproductivity!!

After we left Hampi and spent a night in Hospet before boarding an early morning train on Friday into Goa. The train was packed and we had some difficulty getting tickets. At the time we didn’t realize we were heading straight into the middle of an ‘Id Ul Fitr’ festival. 

Sunbathing on Colva beach

This is an international event celebrating the end of Ramadan. Rather than dancing and singing, friends get together and drink- a lot. 
Our main concern was to make it to the beach, have a cold shower and relax… when we arrived to a small tourist spot called Colva it was overflowing with young Muslim boys celebrating the festival! We walked hotel to guesthouse, to homestay and resort seeking a room. 
Eventually locating a small guesthouse by the beach with reasonable priced rooms; we were exhausted.

What happened though was quite amusing. Over the last few days it seems we have been the local tourist attraction! 

Bags of fish at the ready

Kara has been very popular with the male muslim population and have posed arm in arm for at least fifty photographs! I'm sure if we had charged for photographs we could have at least bought several 100 samoas! John has been notorious named ‘moustache man’ and hundreds have asked whether he is a policeman and what’s his rank. We just go with it…. When we sat on the dirty beach to watch the sunset people would come and sit with us and ask about the cricket, further passer-byers would join in asking us many questions in broken English.

Women and children preparing the fresh fish

The beach itself is huge, but not much to call home about. Dogs and cattle sleep on the warm sand. Young girls wander across the beach selling cheap tacky Chinese bracelets and jewelry. Adolescent men stand at each walkway across the beach entrances selling small ice creams. Taxi touts line up in the car park convincing you, that you need a ride and although the beach is lined with lifeguards no Indian ventures into the sea more than knee depth. Above all, its filthy. Rubbish is everywhere and to enter the water you wade through several feet of bubbling scum.

Do you fancy some Indian food?

However, compared to the other areas of India we have visited its relaxing. You can spend the morning watching the fisherman come ashore and sort the small fish with the king prawns before delivering it to the women and children to ‘de-gill’ and 'de-shell' or you can take a book and sit at one of the many beachside restaurants and eat some local Goan cuisine all afternoon.

Us? We prefer to drink our Indian red wine and watch the world go by.

Tot siens
John and Kara

Hampi, Karnataka, India

By the swollen and surging Hampi river

Still raining? Yip! We hoped to escape the persistent monsoonal rain in Kerala and ventured north on an overnight train to Goa. Upon reaching Goa it was still raining! The kind that is persistent. The train arrived at 4.15am so we sat down on the ground with our bags, had coffee that was unreasonably hot and pondered our next move.

Rather than stay here in the rain we decided to catch the 7.30am train seven hours inland to Hospet which would get us a short bus ride away from Hampi in the region of Karnataka. Hampi wasn't on our original plan but after meeting many people who exclaimed it was their favourite place in India, we made the journey through the wet mountains.

The Hampi Bazzar

The train ride was dirty and smelly. We relaxed on the top sleeper beds and were well fed and hydrated by the many food sellers that travel through the train.

However we didn't appreciate the constant 'coffee, coffee, chai, chai' calls every 40 seconds- it was a bit overwhelming on the bladder. From the train, views were outstanding as we traveled over the high rugged mountains and through carefully built rice fields and acres of sunflower farms.

Looking over the main Hampi township
and Virupaksha temple 

Getting into Hampi from Hospet was more difficult than we expected as auto-rickshaw drivers seem to direct their full and utter attention towards any westerner with a backpack. Actually naming it harassment is probably being generous, it was like we were rotting meat and they were hungry flies. 

Kara relaxing outside a 13th century Jain temple

We had planned to bus the 12kms from the train station and even from within the bus they were still screaming at us! (Some English, some Hindu). On making it to Hampi our arrival then created a parade of rickshaw drivers looking to show us rooms (the guest houses give commissions to the drivers)… (so bad parade).

Aside from the annoying, over eager rick shaw drivers Hampi is beautiful: set within a landscape of giant granite boulders it feels like your stepping back into a different time. 

Climbing to Achutaraya Temple (highest point in Hampi)

The area around Hampi was the 15^th century city Vijayanagar (and one of the largest Hindu empires of India). It was destroyed by Sultanates in 1565 and today visitors can literally wander around, over and on the ancient ruins of the city and its many, many godly temples. It is believed that the original city was built by magical Hindu monkey gods, of course their ancestors remain today in the form of cheeky little monkeys.

Looking toward an old palace ruin

It's beyond fascinating that even as a historic heritage town there are no limitations to touching, climbing or jumping on the ruins.

There seems to be a vibe that if the monkeys do it, people can to (and the goats, cows and wild cats)! We hope that in the future the government will also initiate some kind of pollution regulation in the area to help reduce the prevalent rubbish problem.  

Sunset point (check the monsoon cloud)

In Hampi we have hired bicycles to move around the thousands of temples and ruins quicker. Bike hire is about 40c a day and quite an economical option! It is also possible to walk to many temples, up and down the many hills.

The muslim 'Noble mans' quarters opposite the
Mohammadan temple 

Excitingly we have also escaped the rain, as per the plan… but it is hot!! A few days ago we bought some new SPF90 sunscreen from a local shop. We applied it three times in five hours only to get horrific sunburns.

We guess this demonstrates one of the ugly sides of travelling through India. People can be driven to push their own ethical and moral boundaries just to feed their families.

Needless to say we were a bit disappointed and took a day off to relax in our room and catch up on our forever growing pile of washing. With just a small bath tub we did the old stud and squish routine! 

Watching the sunset on the river

Although Hampi now survives on the tourist trade solely it remains economical if you can keep your wits about you.

Rooms range from 250-500 rupees (AUS$4.70-9.00), food is slightly more expensive than other areas we have been but we can eat comfortably on 150 rupees per day. We would definitely recommend a visit to this amazing little village in the middle of South India!

We have tried to included some of our top photos so far as we have so many!! So please scroll down to see more of Hampi.

Tot siens,

John and Kara

Visiting the inside of a temple (some where in rural Krishnapura)

Granite carvings inside a large temple

John with two magic men outside Virupaksha temple

Having a break after a bit of rockclimbing

Varaha Temple

A view from the underground temple

Kerala; God's Country, Thiruvananthapuram, India

Luxury night bus to Trivandrum - yeh right!

We left our host in Pondicherry with nervous excitement. Having said never again (after our Auckland to Wellington trip) we reluctantly booked a night bus south to Trivandrum. On boarding we were so excited, our sleeper class had an upstairs double bed, blankets and free water! Yay!! But…. It turned out to be the worst night ever! Auckland to Wellington was a breeze compared to this. The bus powered through the night over millions of pot holes and tactically our bed was at the back of the bus we FLEW at least 30cm high after each hole. 


Early in the morning as our bodies ached and we tried to open our swollen eyes, the bus stopped. After some confusion (lack of English) we gathered the town was striking and we must get on the public train.

Vakala Beach, Kerala 

Backwaters tour from Kochi

We survived the slow train trip and from there managed to find a local bus to take us to our next couchsurfers. Because of the strikes buses were limited, unbelievably over 100 crammed into the 40 seater bus. It was almost lunch time and 37 degrees as the bus departed. Quickly we approached the strike and passengers closed the metal shutters to avoid flying rocks. 
Kara had one leg in the air and an elbow in her eye, John got off lightly with just being squished! The worst part was not actually knowing where to get off the bus!

We did make it, and after a nap spent a fun night with a group of Indian rocket scientists (think four Raj’s from the Big Bang Theory) their friend the policeman and three Spainards we found, gorging on south indian foods. 
The following day the strikes were over and no one really new what they were about. 

(Now would be a good time to mention India actually has heaps of official languages and each state has its own language so its quite common that generally people have no idea what’s going on). 

Backwaters, Kerala

From Trivandrum we went north on a general class train ticket (so yes- eight people to a four person seat and three standing on your feet balancing themselves against your knees) to a deserted Varkala beach and spent the evening in a guest house overlooking the ocean. 

Backwaters lunch! 

The area was literally empty of any tourists and eventually we found a small shop that was just closing where we could buy half a kilo of buja mix for dinner. We raced back to our guest house just before the power went off for the evening!. From Varkala we selectfully reserved sleeper tickets with more room and went via train to Kochi. We have spent the last 4 nights in Fort Kochi a small historical port settlement that was built by the Portuguese and Chinese.

A very expensive Henna

Kochi is a tourist hotspot, we spent a day exploring and walking the unpaved streets, and another day in the Kerala backwaters comfortbaly being paddled on the large house boats through the most unclean water we have ever seen. The tour was mucho relaxing and we even got to see a huge water snake!! Soon after arriving in Kerala the rain came! Hard, fast and heavy! Lasting anywhere between three to seven minutes once or twice in 24hours. It is very exciting –experiencing the early monsoon, which brings a light cool breeze carrying smells of fish fry and wet coconuts. The big rains then arrived, around lunchtime on Sunday and didn’t stop. 

Locals working the boats

Naively we thought it would be fun to go and play in the rain and grab some dinner! About 15minutes later we were drenched, our phone was destroyed and nothing was open! (One of the initial advantages of the rain is that it clears the air so your skin can avoid the lather of dust which accumulates as soon as you step outside)

Below is a quick video we took prior to the phone extinction (turn up the volume). Deflated we returned back to our homestay with only several cold somosas and a bottle of the local toddy. Toddy is an awful smelling, tangy and bitter tasting alcoholic beverage harvested from the flower on a coconut tree. When super fresh its still lukewarm and has around 5% alcohol volume. Over time it ferments and within 12 hours can reach 20% alcohol volume.   

Chinese fishing nets on the waters edge

On Monday we cancelled our hike to Munnar (sad face) because there's too much rain and the passage will be too dangerous. Now we are heading north to Goa (happy face) to avoid the rain. 

We’ll see how we go with the train tickets, its an over night journey on the train- god safe us (and India) if its worse than the bus.

Tot siens
John and Kara

John and Kara from the boat

Pondicherry, Tamil Nadu, India

From the roof top of our couchsurfers home

Pondicherry is a small city and the capital of Puducherry, it was established and was a thriving French colony in the 1800’s. The city, which was returned to Indian government but remains strongly French influenced. Bakeries sell croissants, strong coffee and pastries, and French tourism is very much alive and well here. We arrived into Pondicherry via government bus and stayed with a couch surfing host in Auroville. We ended up staying longer in Pondicherry than we planned…. Unfortunately (or fortunately?) there was an array of things to do and see and we were having far too much fun with our host Nahid!

A spiritual Ross

Each morning after a swim our first stop was to the local ‘Kofi bar’ for a ‘world famous coffee’ ice-cream coffee extreme and sometimes a vege curry with dosa.  Our host was an acentric and young self proclaimed free women with the desire to help anyone with anything… after our first evening at her beachfront house, the household quickly become full with several people bunking on the floor! She hosted a roof top party one evening and we danced for hours to popular Bollywood music before all clambering down to the ocean for a swim under the full moon. Nahid was inspiring and frightfully independent and through her we made many friends!

Indian party food (a mix of deep fried snacks)

In Pondi we also went along to our first Indian blockbuster. A mix of police brutality, romance, slap fighting and singing. In summary the good policeman was promoted, got married and slapped up lots of bad guys. It wasn’t an English subtitle day so were just guessing here?  We also visited some more temples and also went inland for an evening in the Sadana forest. Unfortunately India’s forests have been 99.9% wiped out by deforestation but we got to see the current practices in place for restoring what once was a very lush beautiful part of the country.

Struggling to squeeze through another door!

The neighbors shrine 

         













                 

Now that we have been in India for almost two weeks we consider ourselves quite lucky that we haven’t been struck down with a gastro intestinal bug or sickness. We have been very diligent with the hand washing and using mosquito spray but admittedly it took several days to figure out the mosquitos are so hungry and so big they can bite through cotton clothes. So now everything is covered with citronella oil. 

Consuming the delicious masala dosa

The only real issue (aside from the tireless touters and scammers) is the heat, it is overwhelming and it makes travelling (or actually just moving) difficult. We still can’t get over that we are experiencing the coldest part of the year…. Ek.

Tot siens,

John and Kara

Pool party, Pondichery