Category: India (Page 4 of 6)

Week 1 – Dining and Dancing

19 January 2024 / Juliet Stratton

A good selection of food has been experienced in our first week, along with a little bit of exercise in the form of dancing. A giant 1kg seabass, a kilo of tiger prawns, fish and chips and lots of chicken tikka massala, butter chicken, mutton rogan josh, vegetable pakora, tandoori chicken skewers and nan breads, all devoured at sunset before boogying the night away.

The bill shown is £25 in the UK !!! Cheap as chips!!

And, Graham befriended a couple on their honeymoon who introduced him to a sheesha pipe 😁😁

Arrivals and Departures – Spain to UK to India to Goa

15 January 2024 / Juliet Stratton

Departure No 1 started on Wednesday 11th January at 8am with a drive to the airport, leaving behind an unusually cold and grey Alicante. Our smooth flight went well and we arrived into a freezing Gatwick Airport early afternoon.

Diane and Graham’s travel adventures began at 7am with a 7 hour hour coach trip from Hull to Heathrow via Nottingham, Milton Keynes and other midland cities to end at Heathrow’s Terminal 3, Virgin Media’s check in desk.

Arrival No 1 at Gatwick, our flight from Alicante to Gatwick went smoothly then our pre-booked taxi transfer driver from Gatwick to Heathrow was a Romanian chap who had a big chip on his shoulder about immigrants coming into the UK (yes, really!!). Thankfully our M25 journey was pre office-turnout time so quick and uneventful and we were at Virgin ‘s check in desk in ample time.

For Departure No 2, Heathrow to New Delhi, our chatty check-in lady Francine ran a sweepstake on who’s bags were heavier, the loser having to buy the first drink in the bar later – if we were buying champagne, she promised to join us…….. Diane, 15kg, Juliet 22.7kg, David 23.3kg, Graham’s 23kg exactly!! 😀 Needless to say a few drinks were quaffed alongside dinner, but sadly Francine never appeared, she seemed so genuine…..

The only downside to being one of the first in the queue was that our bags were first on and last off at the other end but waiting for baggage in Delhi gave us time to change into cooler clothes and freshen up.

The overnight flight from Heathrow to New Delhi was jam packed, lots of students and youngsters heading off to work at schools and missions and lots of Brits “doing the tour” of the tourist sites in Northern India as well as Indians returning home. By the time dinner was served at about 9.30pm, because we were in row 56 (out of 82) the meat option for the hot meal had just about run out. The stewardess said “I have 2 portions of chicken tikka massala left so one of you can have a paneer (tofu like cheese) curry” and duly dished out……one paneer curry, one English breakfast with sausage, bacon, potatoes, tomato and eggs and one lasagne!! Talk about confused and amused, but as we had eaten earlier in the evening so weren’t really starving, just picked at bits. I certainly enjoyed my paneer curry, poppadoms and chutney but rejected the chocolate orange mousse dessert. It just didn’t quite go with curry……🤔

Sleep evaded us, bums became numb, legs and ankles swelled and at 3am body clock time, fast forward to 8.30am Indian time, we were served breakfast – a warmed nan bread filled with curried potato and lentils and side pots of yoghurt and fruit. The cries of “I’m not eating THAT!” came from all the British filled seats, except ours.

Since I had Covid in May 2023, my taste buds have been non-existent and I am constantly craving strong tastes and flavours, a sensation that was well and truly satisfied by this scrummy breakfast snack, yum! I hear you all cringe…..

Arrival no 2 was into New Delhi airport, a hustling bustling airport, and an even busier exit area, where we eventually located our driver. Bags were loaded onto a roof rack and we were bundled into a car before being taken on a whistle-stop tour of a few main sights in the city for the next few hours. (More to come on that!)

Back to New Delhi Airport for Departure No 3, to Goa. Late afternoon departure meant we had seen a sunset and sunrise in one day but on different planes. The last time we exited Goa’s Dabolim airport it was August 2020 and we were shepherded into a tiny hot room, bags scanned, body scanned, paperwork examined and passports quickly stamped by the military before leaving to head to the UK via New Delhi. At Delhi there was more chaos in sweltering heat with airport staff not knowing what to do. BUT that was Covid times.

Arrival no 3, in Dabolim Goa this time, we found a sparkling new cool airport, clear signage, cheerful passport officers, food outlets and a duty free shop and ample taxis outside willing to barter for our business to take us to our accommodation.

Finally, Arrival no 4 on Thursday evening was at our resort accommodation 31 hours later on 8pm Goa time, 3pm uk time! Time for dinner then bed!!

Paradise is Goa – to be continued…

29 March 2021 / Juliet Stratton

We left the madness of Mumbai behind and headed to the beach resort of Goa, an hour’s flight away, for what was supposed to be a 3-4 week rest, to catch our breath, catch up on sleep, cook ourselves some plain food, and plot the rest of our trip south……. We landed in South Goa, booked into a flat for 3 nights, looked about and finally found an apartment where we could stay for a month, a comfortable bed, cool air conditioning, our own cooking facilities, a pool, bar and restaurant on site and a 10 minute walk to the beach. But we hadn’t taken into account the dreaded Corona Virus…..

Paradise:

We felt we had found Paradise, beautiful yellow sandy beaches, beach side restaurants, tasty fresh food, cheap food, colourful properties, and friendly people. So friendly, helpful, attentive and chatty. Food was amazing, the spices and herbs could be tasted at different levels, everything was “spicy or non-spicy” but both were more than manageable for my delicate stomach! Fresh meat, vegetables, fruit and salads at every corner, and side to side sun and blue skies, warm seas and clean sand.

Lockdown:

In India, each “region or county” has it’s own “panchayat” the equivalent to a local government, which can basically be run by one person who can do more or less what the Government dictates but with very flexible blurred lines. So the Goan Minister decided to hold a one day trial lockdown, on Sunday 22nd March 2020, from 8am to 8pm, with EVERYTHING to close, borders with other areas to be closed, all travel banned, all shops, vegetable and meat stores, shopping centres, pharmacies, tobacco stalls, restaurants and bars to shut……but at 6pm the Minister went on Indian TV and announced that the lockdown will be continued for 3 weeks!!! Even fishermen were stopped from going to sea and those already at sea were told to stay there!

There was uproar after 5 days!!! How could the Minister expect his loyal subjects to fight off this unseen virus without their daily food? He was told he was killing off his flock, as the majority of people shopped and cooked daily. Plus, no-one in India so far actually had the virus, so the majority of locals didn’t believe it existed, however, they are suspicious or supersticious, so they adhered to the rules.

Luckily the resort we had booked into had it’s own small shop stocking basic essentials, beer, vodka, ice cream, tourist trinkets etc. We also made friends with neighbours, who knew several friendly locals and were able to obtain vegetables so we shared them out, cooking larger meals and sharing the vegetable casseroles or curries. For almost a fortnight we had no chicken and almost a month with no beef, we were struggling……we are not vegetarians!

However, we found a restaurant that was allowed to remain open “to feed foreigners”. Lots of people go to Goa, book into accommodation that is room only and eat out every day, its so cheap. A 3 course meal for 2 is less than £10. So Domnick’s bar was allowed to serve food (and discreetly serve beer) to Brits, Germans, Russians and Dutch that were stranded in Goa, Domnick became our saviour!!! Twice a week we would venture down to his place for our dose of tandoori chicken, butter chicken or fresh grilled fish to break the monotony of chicken casserole. We became addicted to curry and it’s spices.

Supplies were limited for a long time so we had to be clever, chicken was cooked 12 different ways in the end, minced, sliced, boiled, fried, battered and breaded, the highlight being a home made BBQ, with chicken skewers, cooked on our balcony when it was still 30c at night! We only had 2 electric rings, no oven or grill so very limited.

Monsoon and Glowing Frogs:

We were able to swap a hired scooter for a hired car and we ventured out on several days, to explore some of this beautiful Portuguese colony. As days turned into weeks and then into months, the Monsoon hit, and what an experience. We have never seen so much rain, not even in Wales! It was torrential, but bizzarely, it was still 30c outside, so if you ventured out you came back wet, caused by either sweat or rain. Some days it was dry, sometimes it rained for 5 days solidly but we still went out. The surroundings changed. Roads became narrow as the shrubs and trees sprouted and took over the pathways. Beaches became dumping grounds for debris washed down from the streets and washed up by the rough tides. Potholes appeared in roads, the size of small ponds. Fields disappeared underwater and became huge lakes. Buffalo and cows were seen rolling about in huge puddles in fields, covering themselves in glorious mud. Different birds could be heard in the jungle behind our apartment and one day we were visited by a troup of monkeys. BUT the highlight was the frogs, at night there was a true chorus of frogs from dusk to midnight, and if you went to find them in the grass or fields, you could see them glowing, but get too near, and they all stopped! The glow was under their chin, caused when they sung, attracting their mates.

Repatriation:

After a few weeks, the Goan Minister sent some of his team to every Hotel, accommodation resort or guest house to count the foreigners that were in the country. Other countries were immediately talking to holiday makers stranded in Goa and arranging repatriation flights, free of charge, and suddenly the Dutch, French and Russians disappeared and only the Brits were left. The British Government said there were approximately 3500 people in North and South Goa, so they sent planes with seats costing £450 each for 900!!! First priority was given to those over 80 and with medical needs. Next batch of flights a fortnight later, priority was given to those over 70 and the rest (about 1000) were left to their own devices or told to wait until “flights open up again”. Some people paid silly money to get flights with other carriers, one neighbour flew with Lufthansa to Germany, then France, then UK, another person we knew took several flights over several days to return to Canada.

But, we figured that as the borders were still closed to surrounding areas, we were safe. No cases were found in Goa for a long time, the state was given a “Green” status until the end of July, when a dozen cases were identified from people coming up from the neighbouring state of Kerala as borders had re-opened. It was “normal” to put a face mask on as soon as you walked out the door, have your temperature taken as you went into a shop or restaurant and hand gel was given to you, queueing became a normal sight in the village and people spaced out, no pushing and shoving any more. Local police enforced the “distance” rules, shouting at locals who bunched together, stopping and fining people with more than 2 riders on a scooter or in a car. Hygiene improved as tables and chairs were disinfected regularly! It was well known that the virus cannot survive in sugh high temperatures, but wherever cases were found and increased, whole neighbourhoods were sealed off, people were locked into their accommodation, fed by safety protected volunteers, and attended to by doctors daily. We felt safe.

As time went on, we became bored with the rain and thunderstorms, missed the sun (Monsoon is a cloudy season), our clothes (which we supposed to last 3 months) were disintigrating after 8 months, we had outstayed our 180 days visa and needed, and wanted to get back to the UK. British Airways finally contacted us to say they were being allowed to oeprate a limited number of flights from New Delhi, so we checked in, and checked out! We arrived back in the UK at the end of August.

Mumbai Madness

6 March 2020 / Juliet Stratton

We left the disappointing island of Diu and flew to Mumbai, an hour down the coast. David was still not fully recovered from his bout of Delhi Belly, so we still lurch between eating >dashing to the bathroom> recovering > trying to get some sightseeing done in the “good periods” in between!

We have been feeling that India is certainly the land of “Make Believe” and Mumbai has confirmed this 100%. Every article we have read or seen talks about “pristine beaches, smart hotels, attractive buildings” but none of this is real. It’s doctored and photo shopped to the ‘n’th degree. It may have been true 50-75 years ago, but imagine Buckingham Palace suffering an earthquake then being left untouched for 50 years. Trees overgrow, pavements lift up, windows fall out, and paint peels away. This is very much modern day India.

Mumbai is home to several strucurally beautiful buildings, many built by the British, many are now UNESCO sites, but they are surrounded by dirt and debris. We have ticked off visiting the Gateway of India (a 26m high arch shaped monument, built to commemorate the landing in December 1911 of King-Emperor George V and Queen-Empress Mary, the first British monarch to visit India) and the Gothic Chatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Train Terminus or Victoria Terminus. Construction began in 1878 and was completed in 1887, the year marking 50 years of Queen Victoria’s rule, the building previously being named, Victoria Terminus. The 18 platformed building is full of Italian style towers, turrets and domes and in the grounds outside is a memorial to the 58 people killed and 104 injured by two terrorists who, in 2008, entered the station in the evening with bombs and rifles. It is more famous, in the UK, for being the location of the dance routines in Slumdog Millionnaire, and yes, I was singing “Jai Ho” as I looked at the building!

Night time is buzzing until 10pm, people shopping in the markets, getting taxis or walking home, eating out, or simply chatting on the street corners. Its friendly, safe, and there’s very little hassle off vendors.

Considering 23 million people live here, it’s certainly cleaner than all other cities so far, traffic is more structured and drivers do adhere to rules and take note of traffic lights! Yes, the slums are as you see them on TV, endless areas of shacks made from bamboo poles, plastic sheets, wood and cardboard, with narrow 3foot passageways running through them, the river nearby was a sea of rubbish and filthy children run about half naked, the same as in other cities. Nothing can be done to help these people, it’s far too big a job, but lots do menial work and manage to survive. The only crime here seems to be generated by the politicians! An amazing place!!

We took a boat trip out to Elephanta Island, discovered by the Portuguese about 500 years ago. They used the island as a military lookout but the Indians have opened it to the public, another UNESCO site. They were created about 450AD as cave temples, one main cave and several smaller ones. Its impressive due to the size of the pillars and carvings, the 3 headed Shiva carving is 6metres tall. The walk to the caves was up 120 steep steps, passing street vendors and monkeys, in 32c heat! The monkeys stole my carton of fruit juice, so I sat for a while and watched the babies playing tag on a plastic sheet while mum finished my mango juice ?

Trains and Selfies in Diu

27 February 2020 / Juliet Stratton

Our Road to Hell (Somnath Express to Diu)

Next, we were chugging along on a diesel choo choo, “2nd AC class” to be precise, what an experience! The map below shows our journey so far, 2099kms over 20 days, by car and now the last leg by train!

Our journey to the train station was a little rushed to say the least, thanks to Mr & Mrs Trump visiting Ahmedabad the same day as we did. All roads into and out of the town were closed until 4pm, we snuck in about 6pm and became the centre of attraction in the “AC waiting room”, only for use by those with “AC train tickets”, others have to sweat it out on the platforms in 30c heat!

I’m not sure why we are as popular as Donald and Melanie, but everywhere we go, people stop to say “hi” or “hello”, then “where are you from?”. When we reply England, we also ask where they are from, that confuses them 🙂 Next question is “can we have a selfie with you?” Even just walking along the street, we are asked if people can take selfies with us??? We gave in to one group of pretty young teenagers once because they kept staring at David, only to find they didn’t have a phone!!! In some Palace gardens, we came across a whole school who wanted their photo taken with us. We had a bit of a laugh with the teachers, asking them for 100 rupees first, (£1.10) before being thronged by 50 children aged from 5 to 15, all smiling at us until our jaws ached. Such a lovely feeling to be adored by one’s subjects 🙂 🙂

Meanwhile, back on the train…….I’m on the top bunk, two chainlink rails holding me from falling onto the man below. Mum, dad and toddler are all sausaged onto two beds below whilst their son aged 7 or 8 is in the bunk above, opposite me, eyeing me up. He keeps farting, no wonder his parents called him Baloo!

We are on a sleeper train from Ahmedabad to Junagadh where at 6am the next morning the luxury of a new driver will meet us and take us to Diu (pronounced DEW) and the relative uncomfortableness of a sleeper train with 4 strangers should soon be forgotten. Humhhhhh…..

Its an odd sensation, being on a packed hot night train and looking at nothing except the grey ceiling 3 foot above and a strange brown limbed, fully dressed, child opposite. David was in another top bunk at my feet, with a different stranger below him. Even the lower bunks are closed off to the outside world, curtains closed all around them. Then a shuddering motion when every so often the train tilts to one side and I feel like my body will slide along the plastic bed and my head will hit the walls but the train tilts the other way and that feeling goes.

There’s a girl in the next cubicle who’s on her laptop with all her lights on, most people turn their lights off immediately and are trying to sleep. Someone laughs and a baby cries, coughing, farting and snoring mix, the air con kicks in and eventually people drift off to sleep.

I set my alarm clock for 3.50am, our stop was supposed to be at 4am, barring traffic jams and delays. Indian traffic is notorious so we allowed another hour before being collected by a driver! We eventually dismount at 4.45am, and our driver is also on Indian time, arriving at 6.55am! In the meantime, we sit on the platform, centre of attention again, saying “good morning” to the rough sleepers, school children and office-wear clad people waiting for the 6.45 to where ever.

As we boarded the train, after walking the whole train length twice, I notice 3rd (cattle) class, just as you see it on TV, wooden seats, crammed full, no glass in the windows, just metal bars….reminded me of certain trains in Germany long time ago, people peering out…

Dui town

Dui is the Union territory in the State of Daman & Dui, a coastal town at the eastern end of Diu Island, India. A bridge connects the island to the state of Gujarat which overlook the Arabian Sea. Dui is an independent state and therefore sells alcohol (only available in bars, not in restaurants), Gujarat does not!

We finally arrive late morning, to a modern 4* hotel where very few of the staff speak English, so our simple request for “2 black coffees, cornflakes with cold milk, then toast and jam” results in 1 cup of milky white coffee, toast and marmalade, then cornflakes, then inedible pancakes! We crash out, exhausted, and decided to try again the next day!

We were out walking last night and came across a procession of well dressed people, complete with wedding band, heading to a pre-wedding clothing ceremony. The bride to be’s uncle is very wealthy and gave an outfit to everyone attending. It was happy, colourful and a little over the top but we were pleased to be invited to watch.

Wedding crashing

The next day, we listened to the wedding band, heading off to another hotel. Day 3, we were woken at 8.30am by the wedding procession, this time with the bride and groom in a “horse drawn carriage” being paraded past our hotel. A few of the guests recognised us, invited us down but I really didn’t think they would appreciate my attire, nightshirt and dirty feet, so we kindly declined.

We explored the whole island in our few days, not that difficult considering its only about 10km long! We found all “5 beaches you must visit”, sadly they did not match up to the glossy clean images on the internet. At no point would we consider more than paddling in the water’s edge, we would have to fight through the rubbish and debris. Water sports were very cheap…..still not enticed in.

Portuguese Influence

The major attraction on the Island is an old fort, built and used by the Portuguese during their occupancy, until 1950s. You can see the European style buildings with painted tiles all around the town, three Roman Catholic churches (that are now very run down) and family services (a small hospital, school and gardens and playgrounds) but everything is barren or overgrown with weeds and unused. All references to the Portuguese were removed once the Indians took over, and its as though the Indians declared “don’t use these facilities” and things are left to decay. Very sad.