Checking out

Last day - Tuesday 8 January

This is the way to holiday - ha ha! - breakfast at 10am, 10 minutes to stuff everything in our rucksacks and then a poolside sit until 1pm.

We met the savvy and stylish Deepa in person at her office in Mahim and after an all important masala chai and snack stop we spent a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon walking around food markets, identifying all the mystery fruit and veg.  We admired stunning shop window sari displays, wedding jewellery, leather shoes and all manner of paraphanalia.  John had some more fantastic photo opportunities.

With our flight not being until the early hours we returned to the hotel and then found our best bargain dinner yet at The Food Inn - tandoori chicken, aubergine curry, a naan bread, some rice and 2 Pepsi for just 400 rupees (about £4.50).

Apart from a cow in the middle of the toll road our journey to the modern Mumbai International Airport went well.  We declined the offer at check in to 'help out' by delaying our flight by 24 hours because it was overbooked.  Home was calling.

It was a foggy arrival to the UK on Wednesday 9 January, which delayed our arrival in Manchester by an hour or so.  We made a quick stop into French Connection to see Emma before taking the wheel back to the Ribble Valley and home.

I'd like to make a few important "thank you's"

• John - thanks for an amazing adventure and for following our dream to see the Taj Mahal
• Tom & Emma - thanks for letting us escape for Christmas and for missing us
• Mum - for looking after the dogs, taxi-ing Emma and holding it all together
• Frank Pleasants - for your encouraging comments and inspiring us to splash out on the Taj Mahal Palace Mumbai
• Cousin Virginia's scarf - so pretty, head cover when needed in temples and for  the cold
• Cross Trainers - wow have they seen some stuff!
• A certain shop in Long Preston - rucksacks, layered clothing - highly recommended
• Mr Penant-Williams (neighbour) - who advised it might be chilly in December, only sorry we didn't take nearly enough notice it being the coldest Indian winter in 90 years
• Our god daughter Amy - for a valuable gangham style dancing lesson in The Dog, Clitheroe
• Book - my book list has been immense but the most humourous  read at the right time, "Indian Takeaway" by Hardeep Singh Kohli - amused me through the train journeys (especially when John got off to get some snacks and I saw him walk past the window - Indian trains are VERY long and not connected!)

Deepa & team - great guides, marvellous meet & greets, dedicated drivers, terrific trips and fabulous food recommendations. Thank you..

 

Howzat

This morning we headed off in the direction of The Playground - a huge oval cricket ground where several cricket matches are in progress at once. At one end the games start with youngsters in team colours, moving down the oval teams are in whites.

The teams in whites are inter company games - employees receive one day off a year to go to Mumbai to play cricket. One of the groups we spoke to travelled from Jodphur this morning. They offered us some desert made by their wives for their day out.

We meandered back stopping off at a store Eshwari had recommended - Fab India. Fab indeed, no sales persons, clothing, bedding, furniture all available to browse and it's not just the westerners who seem to like this revolutionary way of minimum contact shopping!

This evening we met up with Mustaffer at Dharavi slum. His first question 'what do you expect of a slum?'

Though we expected a community we didn't expect one so self sufficient. Mustaffer guided us through the whole recycling process - plastic sorting, shredding and washing. Then the plastic is turned into pellets by machines made in another room. Other 'cottage' industries included aluminium, tin, block printing, pot making and textiles. The slums have shops, cinemas, restaurants and bars. I have to tell you, in a move worthy of The Bodyguard (or Dabangg!) John quickly diverted a man who lunged towards me having had a few too many bevvies. No big drama, but fast action.

Mumbai action

Unfortunately yesterday (Saturday) I started with a little Bombay belly, call it what you will. I wasn't missing the Mumbai local tour though, I've seen too many of Deepa's photos of our lunch time stop, Swati Snacks. (Besides Mrs Tapley had assured me she was sending me off with the very tablets we needed, just in case).

I can't tell you how different Mumbai is to the other places we've been. As Deepa said when we chatted briefly yesterday, 'it's like a different country'. John and I can put aside our cross trainers for a few days and wiggle our toes in flip flops enjoying the sun and clean streets.

Now it seems a shame to imagine that the cities where we have been will ultimately fall into line with the rest of the cosmopolitan world. Oh, there's no keeping me happy - I'm an idealist!

Anyway, we met our guide, the delightful Eshwari across the road near the Gateway to India. Eshwari is bright and bubbly and studying humanities in Mumbai. Eshwari's friend was also doing a tour with a young American lady, Ariene. After our morning wander, Ghandhi Museum visit and hop on a bus and cab we all met up for a real giggly girls (and John) lunch at Swati Snacks, it was a real tonic. I only wish I could have indulged in some more of the tasty treats. My favourite was a daal served with a soft buttered bun - comfort food.

I slept from 2pm when we returned until 9am this morning. Apart from home, I can't think of a nicer place than the Taj Palace in Mumbai to be poorly in (I had the curtains closed all day - sorry Mum!)

Sunday 6 January
A very leisurely start and feeling tip top again today. We wandered across to The Gateway to catch a ferry to Elephanta Island for a couple of hours. It's popular with locals who pay just 10 rupees for their ticket, jolly foreigners (as John keeps calling us) cost 250 rupees.

This evening we went to the Regal Cinema to watch Dabangg 2 - we were recommended as the best Bollywood choice for singing, dancing and action without the need to understand the words. First we all stood for the Indian national anthem. The movie was fabulous and the audience participate with laughter and encouragement too. I'm tempted to get it on rental when we get home then we can catch up on the in jokes we missed.

Pictures: 'new' laundry at the Taj
Poorly person elephant

Shaken and stirred

Friday 4 January 2013

A leisurely 9am start for our drive to Varanasi airport for a connection to Mumbai.

Arrival in sunny Mumbai 1330 hours where we are transferred to our hotel. Now you may have gathered we've chosen mixed lodgings and have been fortunate that a couple have greatly exceeded our expectation, Ratan Villas and The Grand Wyndham in particular.

Our next choice is 'the cherry in the pie' - the Taj Mahal Palace - again, John stayed here as a youngster of 11.

We are greeted by beautiful saried ladies and given a garland of jasmine flowers and fresh apple juice. I'm overwhelmed at the sudden contrast in our journey. Our khaki travelling gear seems a bit out of place amongst Dior, Louis Vuitton (not taking orders Emma!), and Mont Blanc not to mention Bollywood society.

Anyway, first job is to fill a laundry bag, we've not had chance to avail ourselves of laundry service during the last couple of stops and we need to scrub up. I only wish I could tick the 'safari suit' option for John. Then it's time to step across the road to The Gateway of India and then maybe a G & T.

Catch you later!

(In actual fact on John's earlier visit as a youngster he wouldn't come out of his room for 3 days because there was a little boy on the street his age begging with a Yorkshire terrier and there must have been a maternity hospital nearby where he saw women entering and then leaving with their offspring just a few hours later.

We've both seen things we'd like to shut ourselves away from on our adventure but I don't think we'll ever forget the impact or take anything for granted).

A fine balance

Thursday 3 January - we're up and out at 6am for a dawn boat ride along the ghats. We witness some funeral pyres next to the ghats where men are taking their early morning constitutional (chilly) dip in the Ganges. There are lots of little boats out and about so the water is soon lit with the little biodegradeable dishes containing marigolds, roses and a wax light.

After returning to Hotel Surya for breakfast its a mystery tour, our driver today speaks instructional English and we've forgotten our itinerary which only adds to the fun.

At Sarnath Temple, museum and our thoughts turn to a Buddhist way of life. It's quite easy to embrace the peace amidst the chanting monks and the tourists.

We're not really bothered about our lunch stop when we are deposited at Brownie Wood, but we go in and have a Pepsi. However, Brownie Wood is another surprise, like being in a hippie tent with Buddhist murals and low lighting. There are some really unusual paintings of the Ghats we like and best of all, the first time we've seen samosas on a menu and they don't disappoint.

After an hour or so respite at the hotel it's off again to the evening Ghat ceremony. We go early on at 4pm, probably a bit too early and have a couple of hours wandering along the Ghats.

The evening is an emotional roller coaster of feelings ranging from irritation to compassion; beggars, guys offering boat rides, funeral pyres, Europeans in hippie clothes probably on a quest to find themselves, children flying hundreds of kites, sadhus, monks, the blind, the self mutilated, cows chewing through rubbish, cow pats, dogs, red betel nut spits, urine, the man who before you know it plonks a bindi on your forehead then sticks an offering tray under your nose and the lady who finds any platform such as folded arms or a camera to put down an offering of marigolds for the Ganges in anticipation of rupees. Our guide from this morning finds us and adds to the test of my tolerance. He's nice enough and we enjoyed his time this morning but now I want to enjoy the relative peace of the ceremony, if possible amidst thousands of people and I don't really need chatter. Furthermore he says he's been waiting for us all day to to guide us round Sarnath and walk the Ghats, when we made it clear the boat ride was enough this morning. Like a spoilt child, perhaps I'm tired.

The ceremony is a special experience though and a true test of mindfulness whilst being jostled by the aforementioned list (oh, the kites have gone, it's too dark and the cows have nestled down by the shore line).

A speedy drive through the heavy traffic and a quick turnaround for dinner at the Radisson Hotel courtesy of Magic Tours of India. We're not really sure why, maybe because of our delayed journey yesterday, but it's very kind. While we sip our Kingfisher beers and stop spinning we're invited four times to take our food from the buffet.

A few different things I notice in Varanasi:

Streets - an obstacle course of cow pats and rubbish but the smells of hot ghee and kerosene are not so intense (or am I getting used to it?).
Begging - you never get used to it, but here I notice more small children, babies and cripples.
Less 'horning' - the expression for using the car horn. Though our driver here is keen to horn and take on the surrounding bikes, cycle rickshaws and oncoming traffic.
Spitting - it's as common as men peeing but I'm curious. How do they get so much spit? John and I have discussed the few spitting stories in our life and combined we couldn't compete. I guess the paan and bettell nut chewing must be a saliva catalyst.
Dogs - stray dogs are everywhere in India, but in Varanasi the dogs are distinctly flea ridden.

Looking outside the box

For me the Taj Mahal was a model approx 12 inches square which lived in a light box with a tangled cable and bakerlite plug. My grandfather, Freddy Groom brought it back for his younger sister, my great Auntie Doris, 87 years ago. John was lucky enough to see the Taj for real at 14 years old when accompanying his parents on a business trip.

Tuesday 1 January 2013

8 am - The cold fog is set around Agra - we walk around the Taj Mahal gardens expecting we'll be there a while before it lifts. The towers tease us through the mist. By 11 am we're loitering in the stunning mausoleum, grateful for the warmth of so many tourists.

At about 11.30 we can't hang around anymore, it's so cold and the Taj complex is lacking in a tea room, so we'll have to be happy with a few close up photos and the pictures we took last night from the other side of the bank. We ask an American guy to photograph us on the famous VIP seat. Sadly the Taj remains in its 'snowy' box today like the ones being sold for 100 rupees by the street hawkers.

After a brief re charge of warm sweet tea at our hotel we check out and go to the Red Fort. We keep glimpsing blurry views of the Taj across on the other side of the river to check if the vision has improved.

John and I decide on new tactics with the hawkers and guides today. We drop 'thank you' from 'no' - perhaps it shows weakness and we seem to get instant results as they move onto their next prey. When asked if we want a guide I say indignantly 'I am a guide!' I'm sure they've heard it all before but it provides us with some small amusement.

I'm not dreading the next train from Agra to Varanasi but I'm not particularly looking forward to it either. Our driver today (Pradeep left us last night for another tour) drops us off at Costa Coffee where we can linger til 7.30pm. I recall the years making a coffee last 2 hours whilst waiting for Tom and Emma's extra curricular activities.

The driver informs us that the train is 3 hours delayed, in fact 1 hour delay, plus one, plus one. We consider our options:

Drive to Varanasi - too dangerous in the fog
Fly to Varanasi - the airport is shut for 2 months
Go back to our hotel and wait: we speak to Sunil on the phone who is our Agra contact. He meets us at Hotel Ganga, it certainly smells but to be fair John spots someone is cleaning out a fish tank!

Sunil says he has arranged a good room rate, we decide to stay since we are there already. We're tired after our gala gangham style New Year's Eve party and a long day sight seeing. However, the hotel is horrible, we nap fully clothed, this is a box I don't want to remember.

At about 1am we get a knock on the door for our bags, seems the room call didn't happen then. The driver is waiting - we are on our way.

Just before 3am the train sets off, we are joined in our next AC 2 tier box by a lovely family from Buxton, Derbyshire with whom we spend the next 17 hours. The Marudhar Express due in to Varanasi at 0835 hours, arrives at 2000 hours on 2 January 2013.

First photo is taken at Taj Mahal.
Second is the 'baby Taj' Itmad-ud-Daulah (actually pre dates the Taj Mahal)
Last picture is the Taj Mahal 'box' my grandfather brought back in 1925