Good days, bad days

I’m sitting in the shade. To my right is an older Russian woman singing a song to her infant granddaughter. It’s repetitive and oddly soothing. Somehow not knowing the words’ meaning makes for a more peaceful tune. Just across a little break made up of palm fronds and woven mats is the sound of the Arabian Sea. There’s a breeze. The shade is from a grove of palms; I’m also working my toes into a very fine sand. Not hungry. Not thirsty. Already had a short nap. Thinking about a swim, but not just yet. Saw via the Office of Retirement Services website that my pension is finalized. And so, I’m retired. And I wonder: How can it possibly get any better? Woops, wait a minute! A young woman just came through the beak from the beach in a bikini with a sheer sarong draped around her waist. I wave; she smiles. OK. NOW how can it get much better? This place is pretty alright. It’s a small village in the state of Goa called Agonda. This whole state was settled by the Portuguese way back when, and has held a number of European traditions. Like drinking booze, eating red meat, and praying to a Christian God. Mind, it still feels like India—there’s still cows walking the beach—but the vibe is a bit more chill. We’re here for a couple more days before heading off to Hampi. So, I gotta give it up for Rebecca. She’s been a proper trooper. Yesterday she agreed to take a bus here from Panaji, in the north. It turned out to be three buses. The third one scooped us up off the side of the road, had us toss our packs to the open spot next to the driver, and proceeded to pack up into the standing-room-only bus. I protested that we’d wait; catch the next bus. But the dude running the show was insistent, so we shrugged and climbed on in. Then it got really interesting. In the next half hour, we must have stopped another four times, each of which loaded on another six or seven souls. No one got off. No way would you have convinced me that bus could have held another twenty people. It was tight. Around that time, I look back at Rebecca, and there’s a pale green shade creeping up her cheeks. “You OK?” “No!” “You gonna throw up? Cause, you know…that would be bad.” “Shut up.” And then a miracle happened. Not like a parting of the seas, but almost. A young girl stood and made her way to the bus’ door. It was like she just blended into the wall of flesh and re-emerged at the door, and there was her empty seat, right in front of Rebecca. “Go. Quick!” She gave a sideways glance at the grandma to her left, and lunged for the seat, snagging it by the cheek of her ass. The prospect of vomiting in tight quarters can make the most generous soul into a real asshole. She caught a bit of a breeze from the window while ignoring the crooked look from granny, and managed to keep herself intact until we were dropped at a lonely intersection and found ourselves walking the last five kilometers to our guesthouse. There was some grumbling, but for the most part, like I say, a trooper. But one needs days like that to fully feel days like this. I’m just about ready for that swim. After the swim, a cold shower and a walk. Then take the scooter into town for a couple of cold beers which we’ll enjoy over a game of cribbage. The place next door makes a good tandoori chicken over charcoal; I’m thinking that will be about right as a way to end the day. And that is enough gloating for now. Actually, that’s enough gloating forever. ~Mike

Agonda Beach

We made it to the beach. Don’t want to rub it in but this place is amazing! We came from Panaji this morning to the beach town of Agonda in the south. We took three separate buses and then walked for about 5km off the main road. The buses were local- stopping every now and then for people coming on or off. Cheap (Mike’s favorite word)- 130 Rs- a little over 2 bucks for both of us to go over 60km. The last bus was the most challenging- standing room only. Just when you thought they couldn’t cram any more people on they shove in 3 or 4 more. Luckily that ride was only the last 20 minutes or so and I scored a seat when someone got off. After our hike we arrived at the very tranquil Secret Garden Guesthouse. We’re staying in a cottage but they also have Coco Huts which are constructed in October on stilts for the season and taken down in the spring once the rainy season starts. The beach here is beautiful. Looking forward to sitting on a sunbed tomorrow. Goa is a Christian state that was originally colonized by the Portuguese. It has a much different feel then the other places we’ve been in India. Very laid back. The architecture is Portuguese colonial and many of the people who grew up here speak English and Portuguese. The food is very different too. Beef is an option here but the seafood is the best. The owner of our guesthouse said he goes down to the beach every morning to pick out the days catch. We’ve eaten lots of prawns, pomfret, mackerel- all of it delicious and washed down with a cold Kingfisher beer. We chose to stay here Agonda specifically because it is quiet and so far it seems to be. The beaches in the north are notorious party beaches. They were part of the hippie trail back in the 60’s so were known for drugs and parties. In the past they have been popular with the English, Aussies, Kiwis and Continental Euros. Now it seems to be inundated with Russians. One of the newspapers I read yesterday had a whole section in Russian. Speaking of our fellow travelers… We have hardly seen any Americans- really the only ones I can recall were on the plane. Most of the foreigners we meet are Euros- I would say mostly English, Aussies and Kiwis. We have seen some Japanese, met some kids from Israel and a couple travelling with twin baby boys from England. In this guesthouse the neighbors on either side are Russian. At first glance most people think we are Dutch. When we tell them we’re from America they get very excited. They love the USA. Then they ask to have their picture taken with us. We always say we’re from Michigan but most people haven’t heard of that so we say that from “near Chicago.” Close enough… They all know New York and Hollywood but not the Great Lakes. ~Rebecca

Panaji

From Rebecca- We have found ourselves in a place with no wifi (gasp!) so I'll keep this short. I'm currently at an old fashioned internet cafe. Complete with a sticky keyboard that most of the letters are rubbed off. Just like the old days of travel. We have arrived in Goa. We'll stay tonight in Panaji which is the capital and then move on to the beach for a few days. The last time we were here was in October which was before the busy season. It is a whole different vibe now. High season (not peak- that was over the holidays.) Tons of tourists- Indian and foreign. But things are very familiar too. We're hoping to recreate one of the best meals we ever had at a cafe close by. Hope it lives up to our memory. About 10 hours in chair class on the train. Quite the experience. We came in a couple of hours late but in one piece. Can't wait to see how sleeper compares. Only slept for a few hours so a nap is in order. Tomorrow we'll update from the beach.

Random photos from Mumbai

Juice wallah

Gateway of India

Street performer

Sunset at Chowpatty

Food pics

 

Typical pure veg thali- so yummy for about 60 Rs (a buck.)

Keralan meal on a banana leaf plate. Masala fish and mixed veg with chapati.

Funky little restaurants...

From Mike...

There's a certain type of restaurant here which I will work toward eating in for every meal.  I'm not sure what to call it, but the essential characteristics are: 
1)  The people who work there are really excited about some part of the menu that features their food.  (Last night's happened to be Keralan, but it can be any region.)
2)  The place isn't a total shit show, but there's not, shall we say, an obsessive-compulsive need to clean and/or impress.  (Last night while I washed my hands over a kitchen-side sink, a fat, juicy cockroach climbed up the wall to my left.)
3)  It's cheap.  (This is definitely not a given around here.  Dress a place up, and the cost can double, triple, quadruple...for food that is in many cases inferior.)
4)  It's clearly known and frequented by locals.
5)  It's cheap. 

Typically these places have some moral/religious aspects.  They might be all veg, or they don't serve alcohol, or they have various gods and goddesses adorning the walls.  All that's fine by me.  In fact, I'm thinking I prefer it.  Food is so central to us all, and there comes a point where I'm thinking it should be as much about one's approach to life as it is about making some coin.  And it's somehow comforting to be in a place where actions matter as much as words.  Feeding one another is some serious action.

Finally, there is no end to the variety of food to had in a given restaurant.  There are typically (and I'm being conservative here) one hundred and fifty different things to be had.  Each its own animal.  You gotta know, there are no boxes of pre-prepared ready-for-the-fryer crap.  Each dish is built part by part.  My hope is, at some point, to get into a kitchen and see the magic unfold.  I realize it could be a shocker, but a fella needs to know...
Until later...

Moving On

From Rebecca-

We are moving on to Goa this afternoon. My first experience on an Indian train. Last time we were here we traveled by car with our amazing driver Tej Singh. Should be a much different experience. Mumbai has been amazing but I'm looking forward to a little slower pace and some beach time.

Our hotel here has been great. Clean, affordable, good wifi, breakfast included and a good location- on Marine Drive across from Chowpatty Beach. Along the beach is a promenade that goes along the bay. A very popular place to watch the sunset which we did last night. We are in close walking distance to many tourist sites. I bet we walked at least 10 miles in the last few days.

More than anything it has been a matter of getting used to being here. Getting over jet lag which from my experience takes at least 3 nights. Getting on a night train to Goa might set me back a little.

Getting used to the food. We have been pretty careful with food- mostly veg but we have had a couple of amazing fish meals too. All Indian except for our breakfast which has been eggs and toast. This morning we requested Indian breakfast and were brought chutney, yogurt and some kind of spicy cakes made from chickpeas. Everything has been so delicious. Yesterday afternoon we stopped at a grocery and Mike walked out with a bag of grapes. The common wisdom with food is- if you can't peel it, boil it or cook it, forget it. I guess Mike didn't get the memo. It wasn't going to be easy to peel all of those little grapes and being the cheapskate that he is he couldn't throw them away (or nor would you dare with all of the hungry folks right outside your door.) He did find a boy at the Churchgate train station who gratefully accepted the grapes. So far things are OK with our stomachs but it's really just a matter of time and Mike will probably fill you in with every awful detail.

It also takes some getting used to being around so many people- 12 million people in Mumbai. I don't blend in... In fact I'm something of a curiosity. We walked down to the main tourist area in Colaba at the tip of Mumbai. Site of the Taj hotel and the Gate of India. A lot of foreign tourists but also many Indians enjoying a beautiful Saturday afternoon. We stopped at the end of the jetty to have a drink of water and take in the sights. Mike was chatting with a young man and I pulled out my camera to take a few photos. Soon I noticed that people were trying to sneak photos of me. One family sat down next to me to get a shot of me and their baby. I started to notice this happening a lot. Especially the baby thing. It hasn't really happened to Mike. Is it good luck to have your baby's photo taken with a blond white lady?

I have a few more things for my list of things I'm worried about-
#1 Falling in a hole. I'm not worried about a hell hole opening in front of me or anything. It's just that the streets are very uneven and the sidewalks which are made of brick or tiles sometimes have a tile or two missing. It would really stink to be here with a sprained or broken ankle.
#2 Losing Mike. Mike has this habit of walking just a couple of steps behind me. He has always done this, I don't know why. My fear is that I will be walking along and I'll turn around and he will have disappeared. I told him about my worries and he is staying very close and we do have a plan in case we get separated.
#3 Getting hit by a bus, autorickshaw, bike, taxi, truck, car etc... This is a very valid concern. Traffic does not stop in a predictable fashion. The safest approach is to gather in a tight bundle with whoever else needs to cross and move as a group. Mike is very good about taking my hand for street crossings. Still is a little dicey but we have never seen anyone get hit.