Day 125 - Xian at factor X

A fairly good nights sleep, all and all. Went to freshen up only to find a queue of people doing the same. We pulled into Xian just after seven. Walking out of the station, I see my name printed on a piece of paper and being held in the air. A pleasant young rather roundish guy smiles and greets me. He is waiting for two others off the same train. I help him by holding one of the sheets. I notice some whities walking towards us and as they get closer, I recognise one of them. Racing through the memory of faces I try to make the association. Can you imagine how bizarre to see it from his point of view. Some guy he's met in China two weeks ago, holding his name on a sheet of paper, as he walks out of a random train station. He smiled and we shook hands. Still no recollection. He informed me it was Nanjing. The other guy with him I had met also. I was also introduced to a new travelling partner of theirs from the Ukraine, called Alexandria. Our guide asked us to follow him. Bit surprised when he walked us to a local bus instead of a minibus. Nevertheless, he did pay the fares. Xian seemed to be another super city. I caught up on the guys adventures in the 20 minutes it took us to get to the Bell Tower youth hostel. It was raining and pretty miserable as we got off the bus. My decision on staying the one day seemed to be a wise one so far. When guys heard the tour was 280rmb they decided they'd organise it themselves. Due to my time restraints I didn't have that luxury. After grabbing a bacon butty and Skyping Jojo I made my way with my guide to a nearby hotel. He informed me that due to it costing so much they'd include lunch as part of the package. I was introduced to my guide, who I paid the 260 to. He chatted to me for a bit and then I was brought to a minibus that had pulled up outside. Suddenly my guide was gone and another new guide was introduced to me. I jumped in and said hello to all the whiteys on board.

We began our tour by driving around Xian. I got to see and hear about the wall which surrounded the city. Our first stop was a museum built over an archaeological suite of a prehistoric site. Like a hole in the ground. It was this vast warehouse style building with the dusty and unrecognisable remains of an old village. Coming from Ireland it didn't seem that big deal when every second field has some historic remains. I quickly befriended the English couple who found the museum as hilarious as me. We made our comments fairly clear as we laughed at seeing a glass case were they had cut out a section of earth that contained an old fire pit. Other humorous sights were holes that they excavated to tell us this used to be a hole for a stick. We were beginning to realise this tour was a lot of padding. After being given 10 minutes to do our own thing we were off to see a factory to see where they made replicas of the Terracotta Warriors. As expected it was 3 minutes of a chat to say how the pottery had being made and then a tour through a very large shop. I joked with Tom and Sarah that this might the opportune moment to get some pics beside some life like warriors. Handy if you want to pretend to friends that you had being given a special tour. We proceeded to have fun laughing and trying to escape from the warehouse as quickly as possible. When I walked out I was informed by my guide that he was changing me into a different tour bus to ensure I got back in time for my bus to the airport at 5. I was sad to say goodbye to the possie I had being touring although I think a relief to our tour guide 'Andy' who I think had become a bit annoyed with us not taking it seriously. So I waved Tom and Sarah and the rest of the bus goodbye. Jumped in to my new bus.

By the time we arrived at our next location I was getting to know the new group. Two Candian girls were very chatty. We were brought into a reconstruction of the Qing Emperors Tomb. It was a bit of a joke. Tacky looking place with loads of colourful lights. I met Tom and Sarah again and they were laughing at the state of the place. We were shipped in an out in less than 8 mins. Next we were brought to a restaurant for lunch. People that hadn't got lunch thrown in had to pay 40rmb for a shared lunch. Delighted I munched and drank my free worth. Finally we arrived on the outskirts of the Terracota Army. They parked over 1t mintues of a walk away. We learnt along the way that the original owner of the land, a farmer, had to give over the land to the government. Large concrete grey buildings housed the museums. We were brought into a 360 degree theatre to watch the storey of the find and some history of the warriors and the emperor. We got to see the last five minutes. Herded along by our guide, a sweet little Chinese girl, who looked particularly cold and bored through the whole thing. At long last we arrived into the main Pit, Pit 1. It is quite a sight when you walk in to this vast aircarft hanger style building. You stand at an elevated position overlooking the sunken earth. Below large pits containing rows and rows of terracota soldiers stand in military formation waiting some great feat. Its quite a sight. Some of the pits hold the broken remains piled on top of each other. You are able to walk around the outside of the enormous archaeological dig site. Sadly you are just that bit too far way. For 400rmb you can get a little closer if you want a photo taken. A lot of the site is still in place and has not being excavated due to fear of destroying the paint on the warriors. They are waiting for further technology to exist before taking this venture forward.

There are two further dig sites held in separate buildings. One of these contains an interesting collection of generals displayed in hallways with a large ramp leading into the room. Its quite a thing to realise the ego of this emperor and his need to recreate a life size army to protect him and to continue to show his strength after his death. We spent the next hour walking around taking the usual obligatory photos like the good tourist you are. The other big dig site was pretty much in its original state, with only a very small amount of it excavated. I was glad to have had the experience of the terracotta army although it did blow me away as much as I thought it would. The group gathered outside in the drizzling rain and made their way back to our minibus. We were pretty much soaked to the skin by the time we got there. The journey back into Xian was uneventful.

I was shown to the airport express bus by our tour guide after we got back into the city. For 45rmb you get brought out to the Xianyang airport, over 1 hour and 50kms away. We pulled up to Terminal 1, just before six o'clock. I checked in and went straight through to gates. I found a cafe that had an internet connection and logged on. As I was sitting there, a lady from airport security, came over and said something in broken English. She took hold of my bag and started waking away with it. I grabbed it off her and pulled it back. She was desperately trying to explain something to me. I asked her to wait while i grabbed my laptop, before she just walked away with the bag. She looked embarrassed as we walked back to the security check-in that I had already being through. She tried to explain again and this time I understood. A lighter, was in the bag. She checked through the bag and indeed she produced a lighter. I never understand what danger a lighter is on board a plane. Can you hijack a plane with one? So, all the excitement over I headed to my gate to board. Two staff members were standing handing out, dinners in a box. I was informed the plane was to be delayed for 3 hours. I gratefully took my free dinner and sat in a diner next to my gate. Loaded up some Heroes and watched the first 7 episodes of the 3^rd series. Throughout the time passengers were conversing with airport staff. All airport announcements in Chinese and English although the airport staff were only calling out in Chinese what was going. As the crowd seemed to get more and more anxious, i knew something was up. I asked the guy who had being taking to everyone. He told me the plane was delayed again. Next thing I started hearing was planes were being canceled. One after another. Our flight was still listed as delayed. The same airport employee returned to announce something to the crowd. He spoke for around 5 minutes in Chinese. People seemed pissed off and started calling out questions to him. I had no idea what was going on. As he walked away, everyone started to stand up and follow. I caught him and asked him what was going on. All planes had being canceled due to the fog/smog. We were to be driven back in to Xian and put up in a hotel for the night.

Everyone was loaded into awaiting coaches and we were off back in to the city. Quite ironical that my reason for flying was to save time and now at this rate I would get there sooner if I had taken the 16 hour train journey. One hour later we pulled up outside a business hotel in the centre of Xian. The crowd raced off the bus to get to the reception desk. People were pushing to get there IDs into the staff to book in. When I handed my passport in, I was told I'd have to pay 80rmb if I was in a room by myself. I refused and next thing he called out something to the rest of the crowd and he gave me the room key card.

Not knowing what happened i stood there wondering if I was sharing with someone. I waited, although no one approached. As I went up to the room a Chinese man was standing outside my hotel room door. I asked him was he sharing and he didn't speak a word of English. I opened the door and he looked at me quizically. I went in and he stood at the door looking in. After a few minutes he walked in and rang reception. Obviously this was to be my room mate for the night. He spoke to me in Chinese and I spoke to him in English. This went on for a while. We both laughed. I plugged in the laptop to see if there was an internet connection. No luck. I turned on the TV and gave the remote to my new room mate. He headed off and freshened up before he went to bed. It was kind of strange. Me sitting up on my bed and him on his. Neither of us had ever met each other and could not communicate one word. He stayed watching TV the whole time I was on the computer. After a while I turned off the light and we both went to sleep.

Day 124 - Back in the driving seat

As soon as I picked up my card I headed to Beijing Railway Station to get the first ticket to Xian. Knowing now that I only had a week left, I needed to start moving pretty quick. Wanting to see at least some of the west. My bank card worked first time I tried. Delighted to suddenly be independent again, after nearly a month, is a great feeling. With this new sense of purpose I marched over to work out how to get a ticket out of Beijing. Expecting the worst it was actually a lot easier than I thought. Be aware that, next to nothing is written in English in China. You'll see toilet signs and some basic ones although that's about it. Try to stop a young person. As them do they speak English and tell them what you are doing. If that fails, try to find a westerner. Otherwise you need to queue, hope the person behind the counter speaks English and you don't have to queue again. Hard-sleeper ticket booked on that evenings night train to Xian. Was planning on doing a zoom trip o Xian and then heading on to Chengdu that night. Jumped on the metro and went to back to the Youth Hostel. Grabbed a ride on one of those hilarious rickshaw type things from the metro stop to the youth hostel.

Grabbed my laptop and went into Fish Nation for the Big Breakfast. Deserved the treat. After many hours online, Ian joined me and then Eoghan and Aidan came in for the much loved over Fish and Chips. I had booked a flight from Xian to Chengdu for the same evening as arrived. Allowing me to hit two cities in one. With less than a week left there had to be some trimming. I got my stuff together, bid my farewells. It was going to nearly 6 weeks before I saw Ian, Peter and Aidan again. Eoghan walked me to a taxi at the end of Nan Lu Guo. With my directions to West Beijing Railway Station written down I was on my way with loads of time to spare. Five mintues later we were stuck in a four lane bumper to bumper tail back. Knowing I had time to spare I remained calm. Fairly calm. My trust in taxi drivers is never the best. The lack of language, kept me quiet, lets say. I was certain he had brought us into the middle of this madness to mount up the fair. We got to the station 40 minutes before the trains departure. The outside of the railway station was similar in size to the front of the terminal in Dublin Airport.

People had already started boarding by the time I got to the waiting area. I went straight through and down on to the platform for the awaiting train. Hard sleeper is the same as AC3 on the Indian trains. 3 bunks opposite 3 bunks. There is a bit more headroom and no additional bunks across the passageway. Instead there are two small fold down seats and a table. The beds are all fixed down so, you either have to climb into your bed or hope that you can grab one of the small seats. The trains are impeccable and staff are constantly moving through the train. There is a hot and cold water supply, toilets are spotless and toilet paper available. There is a pleasant dining car and smoking areas available throughout the train. Food and sundry carts travel up and down the train. I purchased a flask, similar to the ones you see Chinese people constantly carrying. If you thought the Irish like tea, well the Chinese are in a different league of their own. They carry these flasks of tea everywhere they go. After walking around for a bit I rang a youth hostel in Xian to book a trip to the Terracotta Warriors. They were happy to facilitate and even agreed to pick me up at the the train station upon my arrival. Next I the I sat down and watched some of the new series of Heroes on my Asus Eee PC. I went to bed with the laptop and watched another one or two episodes before getting to sleep.

Day 38 - Wednesday - Fort Cochin

We packed our bags in preparation to head south to Alleppey. I was originally going to wait for the boys on Fort Kochin although decided at the last moment to stay with the group. We had beakfast on the roof terrace. Eoghan looked like he hadn't had enough sleep. He pulled out his Barry Tea Bags and asked for a pot of boiling water. You can't leave home without them. The lads told us Peter's face had swollen baldy during the night. Peter was in no state to go anywhere. He wanted to check with the dentist what was going on. He was not in pain although he did have a rather ape like face on him. Didn't take photos. You'll have to let your imagination do the work. We checked out and left our bags in the hotel. Peter and Eoghan headed to the dentist, Ian and Aidan went to get cakes and I went off in search of the Post Office to get some stamps.

By the time I got back to the internet cafe Peter was there. The dentist was not due in until after 4pm. I remembered seeing a rather smart looking dental clinic the day myself and Ian went for a cycle so I suggested this to Peter. We jumped into a rickshaw and were there in less a moment. We sat waiting for over an hour. While we were sitting there we met a guy from Belfast. He had comes over to India specifically to get dental work done. This particular dentist had being recommended by someone in Ireland. Suddenly, it made so much sense. If you can find someone that is good and it costs at least a tenth of the price if not more. Any cosmetic work is going to save you a fortune. All you got is the cost of the flight plus the time needed to do the work. Peter finally got to see the dentist and when he walked out he seemed a little thrown. He told me that it was a different tooth to his wisdom tooth and some work was going to need to be done. He didn't want to explain it until everyone was around.

We met back with the group and went to Coffee Day. He told us that he was probably going to need to stay a minimum of ten days. This included a root canal and recovery time as there was going to be a lot of pain and swelling. We decided he was going to book into a good hotel with internet and room service. There was no point in us hanging around and we might be better off heading on to Alleppey and he would meet up with us in ten days. With that all decided it was just a matter of finding the right hotel. It came down to a choice of the Malabar House for €120 per night or the Brunton Boatyard for €90 per night. He went for the Malabar. We greeted him farewell and headed to Ernakulam. We jumped on the government bus and journey across in the direction of the railway station. The skies opened and the monsoon rains began to fall. The journey was the usual roaring engine and bone chattering jolts and bumps. Pot holes seem to make the majority of the roads in India. I realised as we were travelling that there was an enormous naval base also on Willingdon island. It took around an hour and the bus was jammed by the time we arrived in Ernakulam. Eoghan picked up to pairs of new flip-flops and we headed to railway station. The next train to Alleppey was not until 11.30pm, only 5 hours to wait. We left the bags in left luggage and headed to get food and see if we could find somewhere to buy PSPs for Ian and Aidan.

The city was packed and bustling at night. We found an Indian styled KFC type joint by the name of ChicKing. Fast food is not what it was. It looked like a fast food joint although they took your order and your food was finally delivered around 15 minute later. Meh. It was okay. Not enough chips and the drink was a mouth full that you got with the meal. We left still feeling hungry although the lads were determined to find the PSPs. We found a music shop called Planet M that had one for sale. They were so chuffed at the chance of making a sale they rang another shop 3km away and got the shop owner to come with another PSP and some games. This was at 9.20pm. The boys did a bit of haggling and got 6% discount after an hour. We head back and found a smoke filled bar. It was like something out of a movie or the type of bar we've all seeing at some christening you've being to down in a country hotel. We tried to order in the none a/c side and we nearly gave them a heart attack. They pretty much refused to serve us. We sat drinking our cold Kingfisher as locals and staff walked by staring as Eoghan and Aidan strummed the guitar.

We boarded the train just in time. It was packed and people lays asleep everywhere. This is not an exaggeration. They were actually lying asleep on the overhead baggage shelves. Some men lying asleep on the chairs woke and allowed us some room to sit down. We arrived and hour later in Alleppey station. The rain was pouring down. All of our spirits were high. We stood waiting, chatting to locals. Our rickshaw driver agreed to 40rps and all four of us and our bags piled in. We were dropped off at the Vrundavanam Guest. We were warmly greeted by two young guys that showed us to our rooms. The place had an amazing over grown garden courtyard surrounded by guest quarters. Each room had an ornate heavy doors at its entrance. We threw our bags in and sat for an hour or so chatting to a group of four Indian friends that all ran the place. They were amazingly welcoming and when they heard I was not doing the boat journey they insisted I do it with the rest of the gang for free. They insisted so I thanked them. I headed off to bed shortly afterwards and left Aidan and Eoghan chatting away to our new friends.

Headin South - Day 4

I awoke at 8.30am. Our bags seemed to be still be all there. The lads were K.O.'d and there was not as much as a whisper out of them as I climbed down and made my way to the toilet. As I walked through from one carriage to the next a man was standing in the open doorway of the train as we hurtled along at 60kms an hour. The toilets are remarkably cleaner than I expected. Within ten minutes of getting back to my bunk and reading my book the breakfasts were delivered. I also got some Chai tea from one of the many passing tradesman, with there train like passing sound, "chai tea, Chai Tea, CHAI TEA, Chai Tea, chai tea". I sat there in comfort lying back munching into my vegetable omelette, to slices of buttered white bread and my steaming sweet tea. It was quite some sight. One that I never expected upon what I had heard of India.

An hour later to keep myself amused I went for a little walk. This time I saw the outdoor open and decided to stand in it. Its such a wonderful experience standing there watching a new country fly by. Paddy fields, old collonial homes, plantations, unusual never before seen trees, oxs pulling ploughs and people. People always dressed in colour. No matter how poor. The train had an unbelievable number of carriages. You could see other passengers with there heads stuck out many other door ways along the length of it. This was one of those moments I will hold dear for many years to come.

By the time I got back to our compartment Ian was awake and Peter was beginning to move a little. Ian gave his cheese sambo a go. He didn't seem to disgusted as he munched it all down fairly quickly. We chatted for a bit and he then went back to sleep for another bit. By 10.30 most of our compartment was awake. We sat around chatting and playing the guitar. Most of us were still totally surprised at the comfort of the journey. Its great when the unexpected happens, especially when its in the form of a 13 an half hour train journey. Another very unexpected thing happened, when we were visited by an Indian mother an daughter they wanted to hear Eoghan playing the guitar. They sat in the compartment with four Irish men and chatted away as friendly as could be. The daughter was studying medicine and spoke mostly while the mother sat there smiling and adding a few comments here and there. Peter was in his element conversing fluidly with the pretty young lady. 20 minutes after they left and ten minutes before we arrived in the station, Aidan arose from his slumber delighted with sleeping the majority of the long journey.

As the train pulled into Madagor we collected our bags and jumped off the train. As we stood on the platform with people all around us, we met three girls from America. They were heading to Paloleum Beach also. We chatted with them as we left the station. I noticed the clock read 12.30 Madagon station is fairly modern and as big as Galway station. There is a Cyber Café, Retaurants, Air-Con waiting room and tourist office. The group of us stood, shaded from the sun, by the large roofed canopy at the front of the station. I called over to the Tourist Office to find out what bus we need to get to Paloleum. I was informed otherwise. A one hour train journey, leaving at 3.10pm would get us to a station beside where we wanted to go. I thanked the lady and left to tell the boys we had a two hour wait ahead of us. We discussed getting a taxi into the local town to pass the time. The usual tourist tax was imposed, so we began to haggle and declined the rather heafty 800rps for a 3km journey. The boys decided to get some lunch and myself and Eoghan thought we might go exploring on foot. The heat, even in the mid-day sun, was fresher or thinner than air in Mumbai. Rickshaws raced up the long drive beeping and swerving as usual. A number stopped to offer us a ride as we strolled down onto the main road. We took a left onto the main road. Piles of bricks lay in a pile on the inside lane. I just realised this very moment, they drive on the same side of road as they do in Ireland. Funny how something doesn't stand out as unusual when you're used to it. Cars, trucks and bike raced by as we strolled along the side of the road. An old man with a Bindi stopped me and asked where I ws from. I told him and he smiled and took my hand, kised it and blessed himself. My first Indian blessing was taken gratefully. As we continued our walk we saw a local shop on the fart side of the road. We walked over to pick up a cold drink. A man at the entrance said, “Welcome, welcome, come in.” We picked up a bottle of Pepsi and I joked about the usual tourist tax. The shop keeper smiled and collected the 100rps. As we walked off sweating, a group of men in the shop stood in the door smiling. The group of houses we came to, some kids were standing around looking at us. As we got closer Eoghan took some balloons out of his pocket and handed them out. At the same time a small taxi van pulled up, beeping, with more kids piled inside. As soon as they saw the curly haired stranger handing out stuff they were all over him. Eoghan standing there with little kids all around him reaching up to grab the remaining colourful treasures the westerner was dealing out. Parents and adults stood back with wide grins at the circus in front of them. We went on our way, leaving the older kids fighting to get the balloons.

The town suburbs are not a million miles off our own Irish towns. Outskirted with scrap yards, welders, small shops and garages, rent-a-cars and some run down houses and 4 storey flats. There is a constant flow of people walking along the roadside. Big wide grins and welcoming hello's everywhere you turn. As we got further down the road, we noticed a Kingfisher sponsored stadium, the national Indian beer, on our left hand-side. We entered the MCC gateway to stop and look at the pitch. The grass seemed lush although sporadic in covering. The large field was surrounded with palm trees and an assortment of shrubbery. We stood there leaning against the wall drinking our cold drink. A voice called “Hello” from a covered practice cricket pitch off to our left. Some locals lay resting under the shade of the corrugated roof. We checked the time and headed back towards the station on the far side of the road. We received an array of smiles and hellos on our return journey from walkers and cyclists passing us by.

As we improved the rather impressive railway station we noticed the Sky Bus railway hanging high in the air. An Indian mono-rail project that looked like it had gone astray as the rusting rails hung, looking very unused overhead. We entered the station and met up with the gang. They had indulged with some unknown foods in the local restaurant. Ian mentioned a green sludge that actually tasted a lot better than it looked. We decided to spend the remainder of our wait in the nice chilled waiting room. I retired to the cyber café to catch up on some unfinished business I had left in Ireland. As placed in a small room with an air-con unit while the locals sat in a separate room. When I joined the others, Eoghan was strumming away on the guitar. The room was large and filled with a collection of westerners, ladies with kids and a few indian men. A TV with a snowy reception hung in the corner displaying some local shows. Ian sat chatting to Laura, one of the american girls. I took a seat in the grubby couch and cooled myself down. Eoghan decided after a few minutes to hand out some more balloons to some of the kids in the room. We blew up one of them and gave it to a kid with colourful rimmed glasses. He seemed very chuffed as he proceeded to rub the inflated balloon making a rather annoying sound. I turned and smiled at the mother and she looked back with laughter her in eyes. The kid continued to rub the balloon thinking it was hilarious. We got a game of balloon volley going with a few surrounding travellers.

Platform 2 was filled with 99% indians and the eight of us. Once again, the goldfish effect, as we trundled down the platform with our backpacks. It is quite strange always being looked at, I can only imagine what it is like if you are famous. They quitely murmur to each other and sometimes there's a few laughs between them. We stood together in a group at the far end of the long platform. Eoghan played away on the guitar and seemed to be gaining the most attention. One rather strange man stood behind us and bit by bit kept creeping more forward. He was inching forward behind the three american girls with his hand out hoping he might brush off them. The lads and the girls noticed so we moved together in a circle and sat down as a group. The train arrived forty minutes late. As the train pulled in crowds of people gathered at the edge of the platform to quickly board. We entered a fairly old but clean carriage with numerous ceiling fans whirling away. We threw our bags above. I grabbed a seat beside the windowless barred window. The train took off at speed a moment later. The journey was pleasant and a great oppurtunity to catch some views of the surrounding countryside flying by. The usual traders went by offering ice creams, chai tea, cheese sambos and cold drinks. We pulled into Canacona one later not knowing where we were going. We asked the guy at the desk and he told us we were only 3km from Paloleum. As we climbed down the stairs a Rickshaw sat waiting. We laughed amongst ourselves with the eight of us laden down with backpacks. Within a minute another one pulled in. We agreed a price and packed the first 5 people in. A moment after they drove off another rickshaw collected the three of us.

Seven minutes later we were unloading our stuff into the sandy street of Paloleum. Eoghan was already checking out some of the local accommodation by the time we arrived. Within ten minutes we found the main resort behind the taxi rank. We sat down to some cold well needed beers. Myself and Eoghan decided to go look for the other resorts that are listed in the Rough Guide to India by walking up the beach towards the end of the peninsula. We had literally arrived on a paradise beach with yellow sands stretching ahead of us. Palm trees blowing in the gentle warm breeze lined the beach front. Old wooden fishing lay pulled up on shore. A handful of people were walking along the beautiful sand as the two walked off to explore the area. We met the three americans girls, Laura, Kristy and Emily walking towards us. They had found all of the other resorts closed up for the season. Myself and Eoghan continued up the beach thinking perhaps other resorts lay on the far side of the head. It was such a pleasure to walk in the warm indian water as we tracked up the long beach. T-shirts off I think we both felt we had found the place we had being looking for to relax. As we got to the end of the beach it started to become obvious to us a lot of stuff was closed up. We noticed what looked like thousands of spiders jumping out of the wet sand and racing towards he shore. Not sure of what they were we kept our distance. The peninsula sits a couple of hundred meters from a tropical island. Waves crashing against the rocks at its base. We climbed over the deserted resort with wrapped toilets standing tall in the barren ground. I still insisted there must be something on the other side, so I continued the climb. Around the corner lays a cliff face of rocks being smashed by the swirling seas. It is some view after leaving Mumbai. Looking back down where we came from was like at a scene from the movie The Beach.

By the time we got back to the others they were well relaxed sitting drinking beers in the shade overlooking this glorious beach. After some discussion and twenty minutes of haggling with the manager we bargained a fantastic nightly deal, paying 600rps for the triple room and 300 rps for two double rooms based on us staying a minimum of five nights. After a couple more beers we went to our rooms and got ourselves settled. All the rooms were ensuite and had large fans. We were chuffed with our little find in this very sweet haven. After a couple hours relaxing, watching satellite TV and applying some mosquitto repellent we headed to dinner in the resort. The food was a fantastic selection of India tasty sauces accompanied by Naan breads. The beers flowed and the mood was great. We chatted for hours. The resort was empty apart from our group. There was plenty of staff available as they hung around serving the roudy Irish group. By 12 o'clock I was ready for bed. I headed back to room. Hung my mosquitto net and lay down with beads of sweat caressing me asleep. I texted my gostoso and fell asleep. I was awoken a moment later. Went back asleep and was awoken again by Eoghan shouting in the window to let him in. He came in and started chatting away to me. One minutes later, after he left, I was asleep.

Taking the tours - Day 3

I awoke 9.30, Wednesday morning in our lavish hotel room. Realising the time, and feeling a bit hungry, I got dressed and headed to Ian's room. Breakfast was to be finished in 30 minutes. A waft of curry hit me as we entered the dining room. Its a strange smell first thing in the morning. Its funny when you are programmed to think one way that it can be hard to break the mold. Eating curry at that time of the morning is the last thing to cross my mind. Perhaps this will change with time. After munching some miniature bananas, toast and coffee we headed back up to wake the boys for our 12 o'clock checkout. I stopped at the reception desk to ask was it alright to leave our bags there for the day, as we were catching the train to Goa tonight. The man was amazingly helpful, offering us a room to how a shower in upon our return, if one was available. We awoke the lads, packed our gear, paid our bills and left for the Elephanta Island Caves.

When we arrived at the Gate of India, the sweat was pouring off me. The square was a lot more packed than before. Traders were approaching us from all sides. Selling giant balloons, postcards, coloured balls, nuts, hashish and the lot. As we approached the island ferry a small round Indian man came towards us to tell us about the islands. He explained that the best time to view the caves was 9.30 in the morning and the round journey would take up to 4 hours. We agreed amongst ourselves we'd do something a bit different. Totally unaware to me, the same helpful man proceeded to offer us a guided tour of some of the best features of the island. At a mere, 500rps a head. We offered 200rps a piece, explaining the value of taking a group of five. The usual haggling began, so in the mid-day heat we began to walk away. The man continued his bartering with Aidan offering to show the air-con car we'd be brought around in. The vehicle we were shown was a clean silver modern looking jeep. We realised that there was probably no better faster way to see Mumbai. The final price we agreed on was 1600rps.

We all jumped in and began our first journey to the Washing Laundry. The heat in the jeep was stifling and poor Aidan stuck in the back was not feeling any benefit of the a/c. Sweat flowing off his face as we drove through the manic city. We arrived 20 mins later at Asia’s largest open air laundry. It was located in one of the poorer parts of Mumbai. Aidan nearly collapsed out of the back of the jeep. His t-shirt clinging to his body. Entering the outdoor laundry is like walking back in time. A matrix of concrete basins, with men smashing the wet clothes into the flat surfaces. Lifting the clothes and squeezing them. Rows of clothes hoisted on lines hanging high in the air surrounded the complex. Our guide explained that only the poor people clothes are now washed here as the wealthy people all have washing machines. 200 people are employed to work from 4.30am to 3pm. The clothes are collected, washed, dried and then delivered. As we stood, being informed of all of this, we were getting looks from the washers. It was only afterwards I thought what it would look like if a group of tourists came and watched you as you toiled away in the heat of the day. One of the washers called to us and asked us if we wanted to give it a go. No one offered :) We were told that this was the last generation of washers. The money being made was being used to educate the next generation. 10 feet from where we stood behind us, through bars, we could see a class of young school kids in uniform sitting at desks working away and staring out the foreigners staring in at them. The usual array of white smiles and bright eyes were beaming back at us from the small room. As we left I remember noticing some rather harsher looks from some men on our right. I smiled in greeting and no return was given this time. Understandable when you think of what I said above.

We picked up 2 bottles of water and to cans of minerals at the shop at the entrance, 60rps. Just less than €1. Prices in India are really hard to pin down with tourist tax being placed on pretty much everything and varying all the time. Swapping places I took the back seat and Aidan jumped in the front. The heat was unbearable as we made the 30 minute journey to the 100 year old Jain Temple. Full silver temple dedicated to Lord Mahavira. We passed through the Marbella styled area of Mumbai. Quite a difference than the places we saw, the first night we arrived, on route from the airport. I was pretty much ready to pass out as I fell out of the back of the jeep when we arrived. Outside was a lot cooler than the swelter box. After removing our shoes we entered the temple. Some form of ceremony was in process as we entered. The first thing you notice is the vast array of colors. Painted walls and ceilings with religious stories and messages of how to live a spiritual life. The centre room was filled with people in the middle of some form of ritual with two priest enchanting prayers. Two video cameras with lights were recording the whole thing. Relatives and religious men stood watching. Upon advice we entered in a clockwise direction. A side chapels filled with religious iconography was the first room we entered. Gold, silver and painted ceramic statues of Mahavira were everywhere you turned. Indians were entering and saying prayers and leaving their offering in the slots provided. It was kind of unusual walking around the temple while a pre-wedding is happening. The doomed ceiling of the temple was beautiful. Adorned with colour paintings representing some form of cycle. In some way similar to the signs of the zodiac. A holy man, dressed in a white robe, nodded his head to Eoghan to go venture upstairs. As we trailed upstairs we noticed a man sitting on the ground preparing coconuts for some form of offering to Mahavira. Above him another stunning carved dome ceiling cut from rock. The main room overlooked the centre room below. As we studied the painting we noticed a symbol that looked very similar to the swastika. We pointed it out to each other and murmured under our breaths as to whether the symbol was a reflection of the swastika and remembering stories of where Hitler got the original symbol from. Kind of weird to think that a symbol used by a German dictator, was taken from one religion and then used to persecute and wipe out another religion. After spending another ten minutes looking around our guide had called us as we were running over time.

Our next stop was the Hanging Gardens over looking the whole city. A public park laid with lawns and small hedges edging the pathways. Quite pretty and nicely cooled by the numerous over hanging trees. Eoghan was asked by some teenagers to play some cricket as we entered. Delighted he pitched a few balls. The kids loved it and were laughing and asking to play more. Next we were approached by an Indian family that wanted to take a photo of us with there family. The usual stares followed us as we walked around. When we found the playground at the far end Eoghan was straight in, jumping onto a see-saw with a kid on the other end. The kids all loved it. Some crazy wild haired Cork guy with energy like them. Peter went and joint Eoghan as he climbed up the monkey bars. One little girl there stood staring in amazement. Next thing Peter came down on the big slide. Bewildered looks from parents as the boys left the under 10's playground. As we walked back through the park we came across a big two storey concrete shoe painted in yellow and red. People were taking photos of their kids as they climbed up and sat on the toe. And as you can imagine we were up next. One Indian man asked could he join us and he jumped up beside the five of us. At this stage a crowd had gathered, smiling and laughing, taking photos of this not too often sight. As we climbed back down our guide was waiting, look rather impatient that we had kept him waiting, again. C'est la vie.

Our next stop was one Mani Bhavan. The place where Gandhi started his “Quit India Movement”. On route we passed the pathway to the Tower of Silence, a route used by the Parsi Community who carried they're dead to tower at the top of the hill. There the vultures would pick the body clean and then the bones are collected and grinded to powder and place somewhere. Sorry I forgot this part. Ghandi house was real treat and a person that I have enormous heart for. A leader of passive means that moved a nation and changed events by holding a passionate and still heart. The collection of photos, letters and items owned and used by Ghandi is quite a thing to be in the presence of. From his early years to his death you can see the constant struggle this man endured. A role model for any. One thing in particular I noticed and took note of, sitting on the table, of his glassed in room, where the three monkey. A small carved bit of stone, of see no evil, speak no evil and hear no evil. I did a stop, just for a moment in front of his room.

As we were dropped back into the old town of Mumbai, our modern jeep had aged quickly. Now the brakes were gone, the air condition bust and the engine was over heating. The vehicle finally came to a halt and stopped right in the middle of the city, just before our last toured visit. We paid our driver/guide, thanked him and went on our way to find some food for our rumbling tummies. We witnessed some local police dragging two men into the back of a waiting wagon and only guessed as to what treatment they were about to receive as the resisted arrest both verbally and physically in a filled pubic street to smiling onlookers. We found a small Indian restaurant down a side street. We were ushered into the a/c room and we ordered a collection of delicious meals with lassi as our drinks. A group a men across from us were having a great laugh and chatting amongst themselves and looking over. It dawned on me as I ate with both hands that perhaps this was part of the amusement. I noticed as their meal was served the customary right handed eating with the left kept under the table. Note: eat with right in public places. After paying and walking around a little lost looking for the Thomas Cook office we headed for our hotel. Stopping in a bar on the way to have drink, in one of the few westernised bars near our place.

By the time we got back to the hotel I'd imagine we smelled quite a bit. After hours of walking and sweating our clothes were drenched. When we arrived in the hotel we were given a room to use to shower and relax before we had to leave. This was very welcomed by all and much needed. We changed and showered and generally relaxed. Aidan caught up on reading some email from four or five months ago. The rest of us took some well deserved time out. We went down to dinner just before nine. Collected some smaller notes and gave tips at reception, to the porters, the waiters and the doorman. They have some quantity of staff in the Godwin, to say the least.

We left the Hotels in a normal, to me anyway, rush to make our way to the CST train station. Eoghan standing at the reception desk arguing over the laundry losing his favourite t-shirt as we are being hoarded into two private taxis out the front. Porter and doormen smiling and helping us to carry our bags. A row of cars behind blocked, doing their usual beeping. After tipping left, right and centre and calling Eoghan we jumped into the waiting car. The usual haggle over the fair began. At this stage too tired and hot we agreed to 100 rupees for the journey. We got to train station with only four near misses and some fine gear grinding. The lads were in the car in front.

We disembarked into the bustling train station. It was 10.30pm and our train was due to leave in half an hour. People were sitting on benches and on the floor. Some people lay flat out asleep on the ground. We found an official train employee and showed him our ticket. He barely moved from his seat and pointed up at the red digital board displaying the departure times and platform numbers. Ours was platform 16. We began to making haste and headed for the far end of the large station. We were intercepted by a police officer and who told us to follow him. He turned smiling and explained we needed to scan our bags. As the bags came through the other side they were laughing at the jumble of contents of or bags. The three young police officers, two men and a lady, asked Eoghan about the guitar as he lifted his rucksack onto his back. He played them a few blues chords sweating, smiled and excused himself as we were running a bit late. We trudged with bags a bopping to platform sixteen. The usual array of gazes and turns and smiles, as the white foreigners walked, dripping with beads of sweat, through the station.

We approached the train with some anticipation, not sure of what we were about to experience. We had only being able to get Second Class AC sleepers. As we began our search walking down the carriages, some nervous looks were thrown between the boys. The first carriages were packed. Four people, sitting above four people, opposite another eight and eight more perpendicular to the sixteen. Cattle would have had more room. As we continued the walk little was said as we checked our ticket to see our carriage number, A1. We noticed our carriage as the next one down. As we got near the door, a man kneeling fixing a door closed stood up smiling. We began to ask and he said, “31, 32, 33,....” We looked at each other in surprise and laughed. He leaned out the door and showed us a white sheet pasted to the side of the train. Our names typed out in full with seat numbers and ages, there alongside all the other passengers in the carriage. I had begun to realise here that India may have a lot of poverty, nevertheless their appeared to be some intricate organised system underlying it all.

After entering and finding our seat numbers we were genuinely surprised at the quality. Lower and upper blue fold-down bunks with 2 white sheets, a pillow and brown blankets, neatly folded waiting for their passengers. A blue industrial fan spinning away ferociously and double strip lighting illuminating the compartment. We laughed in question if the fan was the air-con as myself and Ian lay down on the top bunk sweating like we had earlier in the day. Within minutes of packing away our bags we were being offered cold bottles of water by men walking through the carriages. 5 mins later a man came to take our order for breakfast, to be served at half eight. Our options were omelette, cheese sandwich or fried vegetables. The train moved off without as much as a bump, I didn't even notice it until the lads told me. In another five minutes the real air-con kicked in blowing chilled air all around us. My early estimations and presumption of Indian trains were left behind on the platform. The 13 and half hour journey to Goa seemed all that much closer. After so much initial excitement we began to settle. Within 30 mins, Ian was asleep, lulled by the music from his iPhone. Eoghan was strumming away on the guitar although looking tired and the other three of us were delving into another world as we turned the pages of our books. An hour later we were pretty much all asleep. I kept waking thinking about our bags and whether they would be safe when we were asleep. The tiredness prevented me from staying awake to long. Unaware to me, Aidan popped his head out from below and told me was heading off to bed, a couple of compartments down. I considered waking one of the sleeping boys to take turns in keeping one eye on the bag and then thought differently. I resided to do my best to stay aware and half asleep until the morning.