Getting into the swing of things - Day 7

9.30am, up first Saturday morning. I bring a book, Yes to the breakfast table and sit with my toast and coffee taking in the stunning views. More white tourists arrive while I'm there. Ian's the first to come down for breakfast again. After our terribly strenuous day yesterday we plan to catch some rays and read our books. Laura and Kirsty join us shortly. Sometimes you end up sitting for three hours at the Paloleum resort diner, just for breakfast. So many more people arrive at the weekend so your constantly saying hello and exchanging travel stories. By the time we arrive back to the huts to sun bathe, Aidan and Peter are up chatting to a Canadian girl called Shannon. She is traveling with her boyfriend. Myself and Ian start catching some rays in the scorching Indian heat. Literally 5 mins and your face and body is beaded in sweat. Strangely this year the monsoon rains have kept at bay. TBTG. An offer of a swim an hour later is immediately accepted by me. Even against the warnings, four of us head out for a paddle. The water is glorious. A tad salty if you get it up your nose, although like silk gliding off you body.

After spending an hour arguing with Skype in the internet café I head off to explore the little village of Paloleum. The street we are staying on is topped by a T-junction. Numerous shops and businesses are obviously closed for the season. Empty lots and shells of building are scattered everywhere. The only places that are open are small shops like newsagents, travel agents, restaurants, accommodation and a barber shop. I head left to investigate a little further. Within a minute walking, its like traveling back in time. It reminds of my visit to Dublinia Viking tour. There is a collection of run down and modern brick house and guest houses and then amongst it lies wooden huts planted on red dirt grounds. Women dressed in the typcial Indian dress are preparing tea, brushing their pathways with wicker/twig swatches. Kids are running around playing. Beach dogs strolling across the road. The road way weaves to reveal more brick house. TVs sound from inside. Satelitte dishes sit on roofs. Different style bikes, scooters and motorbikes wizz by with their generic beep-beep. A woman sits on a path intersection, selling tiny fish from a wicker baskets. I stroll along, blown away totally by what I am experiencing. A truly magical experience. The simplicity. The community. The energy is... As I walk along I receive 100% reflection from my smiling and saying hello to the locals. It is something you have to experience to understand. It is very stilling and powerful. The roads continues to weave on. Dusks closes in fairly quickly. Further down mother and baby boars patter around one of the brick house front gardens. The roads comes to an end at a No Trespassing sign into a protected area. As I return along my 1km route, more women stand in the road chatting to each other. Nods are exchanged. Bright-eyed children wave from door, with beaming white smiles. There is an incredible sense of peace here.

By 9pm we are seated, cross legged, in the only real Italian restaurant in Paloleum. Stated to host an Italian chef. We order a selection of fine sounding meals and new selection of beers. One thing you will notice if you come to India is they have their own version of Diageo/Ryanair called Kingfisher. Its the number one beer supplier, an airline and they even produce water. Cashing in on the tourist business. The evening was thoroughly enjoyable with both food and conversation going down a treat. The only thing that took from it was the other locals having their meal that got on my wick. Munching away on my blood without my permission. We all left rubbing our bellies and strolled on down to the local. As we got closer to the bar the heavens opened and everyone ran inside. Aidan got inspired and decided to go for a run in it. After some minor effort he convinced me and we walked out in to the downpour. Within half a minute we were wet to the skin and loving it. We strolled down the beach in the dark with the towering beach light casting long shadows ahead of us. It felt bloody great. Aidan turned to me, placed his hand on my shoulder and said, “This is what it's all about.” I have to say, he was right. We took off our sandels and walked along as the sea washed over our feet.

By the time we got back a small group had gathered outside to drink on the beach. After five mintues or so I started chatting to an Indian gentleman. Can't quite remember his name, you'll probably hear this more than once over the next year. Anyhow, as anyone that knows me well, the conversation ranged from education to politics to poverty to taxation and the such. It He's in the area developing a piece of land, to place 5 to 6 one bed rented cottages on it. He has a number of businesses across India and some land in Darjeeling, in the north. He offered me to come along and help set up the school if i wished. It was exactly the type of chat I had being looking forward to since I arrived. I learnt a lot about the country and also how a businessman sees his own country. After knocking back another beer and chatting some more, he headed off for the night. We also met a few other new travelers that night, Glen and Will from the UK. They are very sound and relaxed. It was 4am before I knew it. The Irish of course were the last to leave. On our way back up the beach, myself, Eoghan and Peter decided to go for a walk towards the peninsula. The boys had beers I was wisely knocking back a litre of water. At night the tide goes out enormously. As we got near the end we noticed some people walking along in the dark. We continued on to where the river is and we were able to cross with the water only going up to our ankles. In the distance you could see the darker silhouette of figures moving around near the waters edge. Upon closer inspection they were moving in some form of unison. Its strange sight to see at 4am in the morning. It suddenly dawned on us that they were fishermen. This became more apparent with the outline of boat shadows on the sand. We passed them by and left them to there mysterious work. As we approached the island we could see thee channel intersecting it was now only 20 feet, nevertheless the water looked fairly fast moving. Crossing it was not really a consideration even though fairly tempting. As we walked back we decided to investigate the early morning workers a little closer. Now as our eyes were more accustomed to the dark we could see two separate groups of men sorting a net of some sort. A man walked out from the dark forest on our left and headed across our path towards the others. It was an amazing sight to see and a great insight into the villagers simplicity. Once again there is something about India that reminds me of old Ireland. There is a strong sense of community and working with nature. We stroll pack chuffed with our early morning find. Sleep comes upon us easily that night.

In to the heat of it - Day 1 - 16th of June - Mumbai

After finally peeling the boys off their beds at 3pm we met up with Peter and Ian and headed out to our first daylight tour of Mumbai. Clad in flip-flops and shorts brandishing fine Irish colour we walked onto the promenade of The Gate of India. The heat and smells are the first things that you notice. The aroma was a mixture of burning wood, spices and an underlying dirty smell melded together. It was funny for first time to feel like the outsiders. Eyes turning and gazing from the local Indians, as five irish lads walked down the path. Eoghan with his harmonica in hand was gaining the most glares. The Indian people love to look and I was pleased to smile back at any that gave eye contact. There is no unwanted feeling from them just a look of curiosity and wonderment. I imagine the blue and green eyed bunch of us was quite some site from their point of view. The promenade was lined with mainly young 20 to 30 year olds relaxing against the wall. Mobile phone in hand and dressed in a mixture of western to local clothing. Older men sat on the ground with basins of piled nuts, cooking them on top with a pan filled with some form of charcoal. Black and yellow cabs lined the roadside. The sea directly below the Indian gate is strewn with litter crashing up against the sea walls.

As we got closer to the square in front of the Gate of India the crowd was filled with Indian tourists taking pictures, hanging around chatting. Vendors will try to catch your eye and offer their wares and a polite although firm 'no thank you' seems to suffice, most of the time. As we made our way in front of the rather impressive colonial structure we were greeted by a pleasant young Indian man. He offered a handshake and a smile and suddenly we had gained ourselves a new buddy. He wanted to be our friend. He didn't beg, just followed us. Smiling and nodding and constantly moving between us to become our friend. We presumed if we kept walking he'd eventually stop. Not so easy. We all kept smiling. He kept smiling and talking to us, and following. We walked for around 20 mins before he finally gave up the ghost. There was no sense of danger in any way, we just had no idea what to do.

The city is bustling to say the least and everywhere there is a constant sound of beeping. Cars racing in around each other, taxis stopping to pick up fares, bus racing towards people as they stroll across these highway wide roads. Its a whirl wind of activity. The scattered piles of bricks now had a purpose, as the poor people lay on the unfinished path ways chipping away to create walkways for some of the many 15 million feet that fill this hectic city. The casting system becomes very evident as you make your through the streets. The most disturbing thing, although not unexpected after being told, nevertheless quite disturbing, is the sight of little children lying naked on the side of the streets. I imagine this is only the tip of the iceberg in India.

Our aim was now to find the tourist office. Leaving late in the afternoon is a wise move as the high mid-day heat has dissipated to a paltry Irish heat-wave. Weaving through the barage of stalls and shops is an amazing experience. The experience of new smells and sights is like nothing I've come across before. Sugar cane drink stands threshing the fresh cane as locals stand around, skilled men hand carving marble masterpieces, groups of men huddled over dismantled mobile phones soldering minute electronic components are just some of the many sights that great you. It is sensory overload even for the most avid traveler. We ended getting a little bit lost before we stopped and asked for directions. The Veer Naiman Rd is one the main roads cutting across the southern end of Mumbai. It opens out into a wide avenue, lined on either side by the tall trees of the Oval Maiden parks. I imagine popular cricket fields in days gone by, now in what seems to be a state of repair. There is definite improvements going on around the city, although it is so overwhelmed by the general disrepair you can see. We finally arrived at Church Gate Station and knew the Tourist Information was close by. We got a quick look inside as hoards of people were racing for their red and white trains. We thought perhaps another day might be better to explore further. As we finally entered the Indian tourist office across the road, we were welcomed with a blast of ice cold air. This is a super luxury after walking through the stifling heat. We were greeted by a lovely smiling indian lady reading her magazine. Myself and Ian collapsed, dripping in sweat, into the waiting seats. The boys found some nice couches to rest their weary and wilting bodies on.

The office was lavishly laid out in old 19^th century mahogany paneling with a quite spectacular silver hammered wall covering on one end of the room. It felt like stepping back in time to the 1950s. The place was empty apart from us and a few staff pottering around. We were assisted in every possible way and made feel most welcome. Finally after collecting our photocopies of hotels, maps and Mumbai guide we left the delicious cold office behind and headed back into the heat. One task completed, three hours later, 1.2 miles.

We raced across some more crazy roads dodging the onslaught of honking drivers. We decided to pick up an Indian SIM card in the Asiatic Centre. Not to unsimilar to a Wigoders in Ireland. Learning the lesson of Indian bureaucracy is one to take note of. It took nearly 1 hour to go through this process with forms filled, photos taken, and copies of my passport and visa to be got. After paying we were politely told that the card would be activated in 30 mins. After getting some water we decided to starting heading back towards our hotel and to pick something up along the way.

As we crossed back across town we noticed one of the most dilapidated buildings I had ever seen. It was hard to believe this imposing building was still standing. An Indian stopped to look at what possibly we could be taking a photo of. He smiled in a bemused look and kept stopping to watch as we snapped away. Within 10 mins we were back within minutes of our hotel walking down Mahatma Ghandi Rd. This leads onto an impressive roundabout surrounded by three and some of Mumbais most interesting looking buildings. We decided we need to break for food and beer. Eoghan noticed a Sports bar with a pool table and the decision was made.

SBKs is like a Captain Americas/Morrison Hotel Bar. Very chiq and only filled with the most well dressed young Indians we had seen. To get an idea of the cost, a game of pool was nearly €2 a game. This same amount can get you an air-con bed in the local very clean YMCA . I'm sure we were sitting amongst some of Bollywoods best although this was news to us. I felt like we were cheating a little, because we might as well have being back in Dublin, nevertheless I wasn't complaining when I sat down in the chilled stylish bar with cosy leather couches. We drank the local beer and ate the delectable food. A few games of pool was had and a couple of basketball hoops shot. We headed back to the hotel. Drank some beers out the front. I got a headache and went to bed. The boys followed followed shortly and another couple hours of chatting brought sleep upon us quickly.