Don't Worry Be Hampi

Panaji, Goa

I flew into Panaji, Goa on the afternoon of Saturday, January 11. Panaji was intended to be a stopover before heading to Hampi, Karnataka since the trip from Mumbai to Hampi was too long. I also didn't mind spending a couple of days in Goa to see what all the fuss was about.

I was due to arrive in Panaji by mid-afternoon, but we didn't land until after dark because of issues at the Panaji airport. The first thing I noticed upon arriving at the airport was the number of tourists wearing these baggy MC Hammer-style or 'Aladdin' pants. "Where the hell am I?" I asked myself as I picked up my luggage. I hoped that I had not gotten myself into one big stoner hippy fest. Goa does have a reputation, after all.

It turns out that it wasn't that bad, but the contast between Mumbai and Panaji was extreme. Of course, I expected this to some extent, moving from a city of 18 million to a small laid-back coastal state that is famous for its beaches. What I didn't fully anticipate was the number of tourists and ridiculous hippy types that would be there. Even Panjim, which is not on the coast, was full of them. This isn't a bad thing (I am a tourist, after all), but I immediately missed feeling like the lone foreigner, as I often did in Mumbai.

Notwithstanding the tourists, after recently spending a month in beautiful Greece, the European charms of Panaji failed to impress me much. Frankly, for most of my two days there I was bored out of my head and couldn't wait to get to Hampi. To be fair though, I didn't give Goa much of a chance and maybe I should have done a bit more exploring. But I really wasn't in the mood to spend my days on a beach alone. I also knew that once I got to Hampi, I'd be surrounded by both beautiful scenery, ancient temples and world-class rock climbing. With this waiting for me I simply didn't want to waste any time in Goa.

Random note: a French guy I hung out with upon arriving in Panaji told me that on a previous trip, he got tired of people saying things like "Oh-la-la" or "Sacre bleu" when he mentioned that he was French. So he started telling people he was from a small fictitious country called Chlix or something which he described as being located "somewhere between Europe, Asia and Africa." I liked that.

I should also clarify that I have nothing against hippies. It just seems to me that many of the travellers here are trying too hard to get into some kind of Indian vibe, which maybe they think they can better achieve by donning Aladdin pants and similar accessories. It looks like they're trying to be something they're not. My Indian friends seemed equally puzzled by these people.

Hampi, Karnataka

On Monday night I caught the overnight sleeper bus from Panaji to Hampi (I was hoping to take the train the following morning, but it was sold out). Just finding the right bus at the bus depot is an adventure in itself. The lot for private sleeper buses is across from the main bus terminal, which requires crossing a busy four-lane road that is not lit by any kind of street lamps, so all you see are headlights. Once safely across the road, you find yourself in a large dirt lot that is also unlit and filled with large sleeper buses and people trying to find the right bus. Although your ticket indicates a specific bus number, neither the bus number, destination nor class (e.g. Hampi, non-AC) is listed on any of the coaches. So you're left with asking bus drivers (most of whom don't speak English) or other travellers if they know which bus is which. Luckily one company representative was walking around and happend to call out my name, so I ended up on the right bus.

The bus itself is equipped with two tiers of beds in place of seats, which reminded me how beds might be organized on a submarine. I was on an AC-class bus, which meant that I had four vents about two feet from my body constantly blowing AC on high. Within half an hour, everybody on the bus was cold, but there was no way to block the vents. Unfortunately all of my warm clothes were in my pack under the bus, so all I had to cover myself was my thin sleeping sheet. I ended up using the curtains as a makeshift blanket, drinking a couple of mini bottles of whisky, and taking a sleeping pill. Somehow between the swirving and jostling of the bus I managed to sleep a few hours, so that I actually didn't feel too bad when we arrived in Hampi just after 6:00 on Tuesday morning.

My destination in Hampi was a place called the Goan Corner, a network of huts spread over several acres and popular among climbers. It is located a bit away from the town centre, in a peaceful location surrounded by rice paddies, palm trees, and boulder fields. The place is run by a lovely woman named Sharmila and her competent staff who make you feel at home in no time. In addition to the huts (I secured the honeymoon suite with a private bathroom), there is both a large open-air terrace and covered area for dining and chilling. The food here is great too.

Since my arrival in Hampi, my days have mostly consisted of the following:

• Waking up somewhere between 6:00 - 8:00 am (most of the climbing here takes place before 11:00 am and after 4:00 pm, between which it's too hot)
• Enjoying a nice breakfast on the terrace with friends
• Heading to the boulder fields and climbing until 11:00 am or so
• Exchanging climbing stories over lunch and a beer on the terrace of the Goan Corner
• Taking a nap OR renting a scooter and going for a swim at a nearby reservoir
• Heading back to the boulder fields after 4:00 til dark
• Enjoying dinner and drinks with friends at the GC
• Sleep before 11:00
• Repeat

Goan Corner

So far I've been lucky to meet many cool people here - people from all over the world (lots of Finns, Sweds, Israelis and Spaniards) - but mostly I've been hanging out with a great group of Indian climbers and a cool dude named Arthur from Utah. Together we've climbed a bunch and had lots of laughs.

Originally I had planned on staying here for a week, but it's now been about six days and I think I'll stay here a bit longer. Many people are staying here for one or two months, but I'm thinking maybe 10 days or so. I am having a great time here and the climbing is great, but the days have the tendency to melt together. There are many things waiting for me in other parts of the country, so I need to start thinking about next steps. But until then, I will continue to enjoy myself here among the boulders.

Some photos:

The river that crosses through Hampi

Team India and Team N. America

Arthur, crushing at the Sandwich Boulder

By the reservoir where we swim (no crocs spotted yet)

View of Hampi from the boulder fields

Frogs living in my bathroom

 

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Incredible Mumbai! pt. 2

Thursday, January 9

Much of the past three days were spent attempting to reserve a train ticket from Mumbai to Goa. What I quickly learned was that booking trains in India is an ordeal in itself. Not only do trains sell out fast, but booking is further complicated by the fact that the government-run online ticket booking service - the IRCTC - doesn't accept foreign credit cards. One popular payment solution for foreigners is to use a third party travel site called Cleartrip. To book a train with Cleartrip, you have to first create a profile on the IRCTC site and then a second profile with Cleartrip. Both of these procedures require submitting an Indian phone number (which I have), to which you are sent an access code via SMS. These profiles are then linked, allowing you to book via Cleartrip. To pay with a foreign credit card, Cleartrip also requires you to email a scanned copy of your passport. Shortly after, you receive another access code which you must link to your profile. Only then can you proceed with booking and paying for tickets online with a foreign credit card.

As you can imagine, I had some choice words for the IRCTC and Cleartrip as I worked through this process. Thankfully there are some good sites online to guide you through the many steps, and to explain the various classes of tickets (e.g. 1st, 2nd, and 3rd class with AC; sleeper class; general class).

I started this process on Tuesday, but it wasn't until Thursday that I was fully registered with Cleartrip and able to confirm - surprise! - that no more tickets were available for any of the trains to Goa for the next few days. Unwilling to take an overnight bus, I opted for a direct flight on Saturday, which would get me to Goa in a fraction of the time and cost around $100. The best part was that it only took me 10 minutes to find and reserve this flight. So for now, mange d'la marde, IRCTC.

When not working my way through the train reservation process, I spent the past couple of days pretty close to home. It was frustrating not to know when I'd be leaving Mumbai and to waste so much time on what should be an easy process. But without any other choice, I tried to make the best of the situation - which, as it turns out, involved a lot of eating.

Dolly had promised to teach me to cook a Punjabi-style chicken curry. In preparation, I purchased the required ingredients at the nearby market and on Wednesday afternoon we got down to it. She'll tell you otherwise, but Dolly did all of the cooking, while I observed and took notes. It was amazing to smell the powerful aroma of the dry herbs and spices (i.e. cloves, cardamom, cinnamon and pepper) as they cooked before we added the other ingredients. The chicken turned out great and I'm excited to make this when I'm back in Toronto.

The gastronomy continued that evening following my second roof-top yoga class with Tanvi. I had been invited to dinner at her apartment, where she lives with her parents and her sister, Purva. Tanvi's family is super nice and I was grateful for the invitation to their home. The dinner itself included chicken, rice, potatoes, pickled chilies and carrots; it was simply fantastic. For dessert there were sweets and paan, a pungent digestive made with betel leaves wrapped around various spices and/or tobacco (see here). For the uninitiated, paan has an intense flavour that gets up into your sinuses and the family watched me intently as I chewed it. I'm not sure if I liked it (the experience reminded me of the first time I tried scotch), but I've never had anything like it and I've commited to trying it again (which will be easy, as there are paan vendors everywhere).

The next morning I had to check out of Dolly's apartment, as she had another Airbnb guest coming at noon. Given that I was not leaving town until Saturday, Dolly was kind enough to put me in contact with her sister who owns a small makeup studio in Bandra, and which she occasionally rents out to travellers for a few days at a time (see here). As luck would have it, the studio was free. I was happy to be staying here because I was already familiar with the area and it was close to everything. But the best part was that the studio was hidden in a maze of small residential sidestreets and walkways that suddenly became very quiet once you were away from the main street. In this little village I met many nice residents, many cats, and a few goats and chickens. The neighbour's rooster woke me up every morning and the street vendors followed shortly behind him. The only thing I didn't like was that the rats came out in the streets after dark. And these are big mofos! That night I came home around midnight and found two guys rolling a joint on my doorstep. I got to chatting with them and asked how there could be so many rats around with all of the cats in the neighbourhood. I was told that the rats are too big for the cats to handle! Thankfully my studio was very clean and vermin-free, but it was slighly unnerving to hear the rats squealing in the alley outside my door. For the rest of my stay, when walking out at night I kept telling myself "Pretend they're squirrels. Squirrels are like cute rats with furry tails, right?"

Random note: One time while walking through the village to my apartment I passed an old lady hanging out by the window of her apartment with Johnny Cash blaring from her stereo. Priceless.

Friday, January 10

Settled into my new apartment and with my flight confirmed for Saturday, my day was completely free to enjoy as I pleased. I met with Dolly briefly in the morning to say goodbye and then met Reema at Bandra station to accompany her downtown on her way to work.

Chowpatty beach

I spent the begining of the afternoon strolling the busy promenade along Marine Drive and up to Chowpatty beach. Similar to other sea-side promenades in the city, this one is popular with young lovers, tourists, and local visitors. Several Indian tourists to Mumbai asked to have their photo taken with me (and the day before a group of teenage girls swarmed me to chat, which was quite funny). I don't mind, but it is a bit weird. I would never do the same with somebody here unless I was first engaged in a conversation with them or something. Anyways, after a delicious and ridiculously cheap lunch at Chowpatty, I headead west to the bustling Bhuleshwar market, where I was in search of a shelter for 300 homeless cows - the Bombay Panjrapole, founded in the 18th century. In the end, I got within 50m of the shelter, but never actually found it. Everyone I asked pointed me to this or that alley, but none of them got me to the shelter (though I did see several cows wandering the streets). By 4:00 I gave up and grabbed a cab home.

I made plans to have dinner with Reema later that evening. She was planning to work late so in the interim I bought a few beers and read on the steps of my Bandra apartment. In doing so I met many of my neighbours (not to mention a few chickens and goats), as well as one lady who feeds the neighbourhood cats a mixture of rice and fish broth. Before I even spotted her, about 20 cats ran by me in anticipation of their daily dinner.

Out for dinner w/ Reema and friends

At 10:00 I met Reema and two of her friends at a trendy Indian restaurant in Pali Market. After dinner, I went for another drink with one of the girls, Zoya, to a nearby bar before heading home. One thing to remember is that if you ask someone to have a drink with you at a bar, avoid spending all of your cash at dinner, finding yourself without your debit or credit card, and then having to rely on that person to pay for your cab and drink. Classy!

Anyway, the night was an excellent conclusion to my six-day sojurn in Mumbai. I had such a good time that I plan to return here for at least a weekend before heading up to northern India in February. If nothing else, I'll be happy to spend some more time with the great people that I met during my stay.

Some observations from the past week:

• Mumbai was not as overwhelming as I expected it to be. It makes New York City seem tame, but it wasn't long before I got into the rhythm of things. That said, the city is like one long, constant horn honking ...and honking and honking. But here it doesn't necessarily mean the drivers are mad; drivers use their horns when passing or to draw attention to themselves.
• Food and transportation (cabs and trains) are incredibly cheap. A cab ride that would cost $15 in Toronto would be no more than $3 in Mumbai, and you can eat a very good meal for the same price or less. And the street food here is amazing. These guys would make a killing in Toronto.
• Like in Greece, there are dogs all over Mumbai, but they're all sleeping. All of them, all the time.
• Many toilets here are of the Western style, but you don't always get toilet paper. You do always get a small pail or type of spray hose with which you can wash yourself. I'm proud to say that I've converted to this method and am no longer dependent on the ol' TP. For those interested, there is a lot of information on the internet describing this method.
• Cricket: played everywhere, in parks, on the beach, etc.
• I forgot this from the time I spent in Nigeria, but the state of low-wage service jobs here means that bartender in, say, a grungy rock n' roll bar will not be a grungy rock n' roll type dude. He'll be a regular joe just trying to make a living any way he can. The only place I visited where the servers match the intended vibe of the establishment was Starbucks. This is not a dig on any of these people; it's just the way it is.
• In movie theatres, the national anthem of India is played before the main feature and everyone stands up. Very dramatic anti-smoking ads are also played.
• The community in the small shanties I passed through seems to be very tight and communal. People work together to ensure that food is prepared, washing of clothes is done, children are cared for, etc. In my estimation, this far overshadows their lack of wealth or material possessions and is a better way of doing things than our individualistic mode of life back home.
• The famous Indian head wobble is confusing at first (i.e. is she saying yes, no, or what?), but I'm starting to get the hang of it and even use it myself!

Some photos:

Bandra traffic

Richshaws!

View of Mumbai from the roof of Tanvi's apartment

Juhu beach

Bandra station

Young lovers on Marine Drive

Bhuleshwar Market

The Kulfi Centre (kulfi is a bad-ass ice cream type thing)

Streets of my little village in Bandra

You need combs, yaar? I got combs!

 

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Incredible Mumbai! pt. 1

Saturday, January 4

My flight to India took me from Warsaw to Mumbai with a two-hour layover in London. I hadn't been to Heathrow for over 20 years and was surprised at how big it is. My layover was spent browsing through the high-end shops in the international terminal and enjoying a coffee and beer with a fellow traveller - Eileen from Scotland - on her way to Singapore. I probably could have skipped the beer, as I had to then rush to the gate for my Mumbai flight. I didn't realize that getting to the gate involved taking a short subway-type train across the terminal. Of course, it ended up malfuntioning for about 10 minutes, leaving me and many others worried that we could miss our flight. Thankfully ended well.

Following an uneventful flight, I landed in Mumbai at around noon on Saturday. "This was the moment I've been waiting for and slightly dreading" I thought. Indeed, my guidebook warned of being bombarded by people and noise as soon as I set foot outside the airport. I was also concerned about finding a taxi that could take me to my apartment without too much hassle.

It turns out my fears were misplaced. Having made it though customs (where I had to fill out a new form because I'd filled mine out in green pen), I retrieved my bag, took out some money from the ATM and reserved a cab from a taxi stand. I easily located the cab outside the airport, where there were no more people milling about than outside of any major North American airport.

The next step - getting to my apartment - was a bit more complicated. I showed the driver the directions I received from my host and provided him with a map of major intersections that I had prepared from Google maps. The apartment was not far away and the directions were straight forward, so I figured it would be easy. The driver told me to relax, so I sat back to enjoy the ride. It wasn't long that I began suspecting that we were off course. The driver's English was limited, so I asked him to call my host for specific directions. After his call with her I thought we'd be OK, but I still had the feeling that he didn't know where he was (or was pretending not to). The major landmark near the apartment is a Hindu temple called Arya Samaj. The driver would frequently stop people to ask where it was, but the directions never seemed to be clear. Finally, after about 30 minutes, several calls to my host, and even more stops to ask for directions, we made it to the apartment. One of the first things my host said was "That driver is so stupid!" She was also amazed at the accuracy of the map I had drawn and couldn't understand how anyone could have so much trouble finding the apartment. In the end the ride cost me about double of what it should have, but that double was only 300 rupees ($4.50), so I wasn't complaining.

My apartment is in Bandra West (or more specifically, Santacruz West), located in northern Mumbai in a district known as the western suburbs. The area is known for its restaurants and night life and is to central Mumbai what Brooklyn is to Manhattan. In other words, lots of stuff to do, but not as intense.

The bedroom I rented for the next five nights is in a spaceous place (see here) owned by a lovely woman named Dolly. Given the astonishing cost of accomodations in Mumbai (higher than many places in Europe) and the sheer size of the city, I was happy to be staying in a private residence in a quieter area, rather than some of the busy hostels I'd read about.

After a much-needed siesta, I left the apartment at around 6:00 to explore the neighbourhood and get something to eat. Surprisingly enough, there's a Starbucks two blocks from my place, and not far from there, a major street called Linking Road, where you can find many major clothing shops like Guess, Nike, Levi's, etc. The rest of the neighbourhood is filled with various shops, restaurants and residences ranging from high-end apartments to shanties. For the next couple of hours, I wandered around, sampled food from street vendors (including dabeli - a mixture of boiled potatoes and dabeli masala stuffed in a bun and served with chutneys, pomegranate and roasted peanuts - and a type of toasted sandwich with cucumbers and tomatoes), and enjoyed a delicious vegetarian dinner at a well-known local restaurant. Happy with my food discoveries, I was also happy to discover that I people didn't pay me too much notice. Maybe that's to be expected in a city of 18 million that's home to people from all over the world, but it was a welcome surprise from the attention I attracted in West Africa and even Beijing.

I went to bed full and happy, feeling more oriented in the neighbourhood and looking forward to the rest of my stay in Mumbai.

Sunday, January 5

I was awoken at 6am to the sound of gun fire nearby... or what I thought was gun fire. I later learned that this was the sound of firecrackers or something that are set off by the Hindu community down the street. They do this almost every morning and it's f'ing loud! But at least it's not gun fire.

Rickshaw ridin' with Kaashvi and Reema

I had plans this morning to have brunch with three young ladies - Reema, Kaashvi and Tanvi - that I was put in touch with through my friend Abhishek in Toronto. Tanvi works as a yoga instructor and we arranged to meet at a charming restaurant / yoga studio where she teaches and that is not too far from my place. En route, I had my first experience in a three-wheeled motorized rickshaw, which is the main type of taxi in Bandra. This is a super fun and incredibly cheap form of transportation, and the drivers are very adept at naviaging the insane traffic (as far as I can tell, the only rule for driving in India is to keep to the left side of the road).

After a delicious brunch, Reema and Kaashvi were kind enough to help me aquire a SIM card for my phone (which required me to submit two passport photos and a copy of my passport). Kaashvi then dropped me off at a nearby area called Bandstand, which has a long promenade along the west coast of Bandra and is popular with young couples, families and joggers enjoying the sea-side breeze.

Later that night, I accompanied Dolly and her friend Bakhu to bar in central Mumbai called Ghetto. According to Dolly, this place has been around for 25 years and was Mumbai's first pub. As my guidebook accurately describes it, Ghetto is "a grungy, graffiti-covered hangout blaring rock nightly to a dedicated set of regulars." The bar is a bit dated by Toronto standards, but this ain't Toronto and it was a fun time shooting pool with Dolly and Bakhu while listenting to classic rock hits.

Monday, January 6

Today was another great day.

Reema, who works as a journalist for the Times of India, offered to accompany me downtown on her way to work. As she put it, a foreigner's first time taking the train in Mumbai can be a harrowing experience. I met her at Bandra station where we caught the train. We paid more to get tickets in the first class car, which apart from the padded seats is the same as a standard car, though less crowded. It was still busy, but not any more so than a Toronto train at rush hour... but this wasn't rush hour. If I did choose to return to Bandra by train, it would likely be during rush hour, so Reema advised me simply to take a cab if I wanted to avoid the stress. The fun (or maybe scary) part of the train is that there are no doors; people are free to hang half way out of the car if they need the space. Thankfully there are lots of bars and things to hold on to.

Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus

Once downtown, we took a short cab ride to Reema's office building where we parted ways. My first stop was right across the street: the famous Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus (Victoria Terminus) station. VT station was completed in 1887 and is a mix of Victorian, Hindu and Islamic styles. It's also Asia's busiest train station and was added to the UNESCO World Heritage list in 2004.

I then made my way south through the bustling Fort Area, which is lined with old Victorian buildings. I continued on though the Kala Ghoda art district where I had lunch at an art gallery and then further on to area known as Colaba. Colaba is the city's southernmost peninsula and is home to the Taj Mahal Palace hotel and the Gateway of India, which was built to commemorate the 1911 visit of King George V. Walking around the Gateway was interesting as there are many Indian tourists there as well; it was fun to watch them getting their photos taken, etc. Nearby was the famous Leopold's bar (heavily featured in the book Shantaram), but it was cramped with disgusting tourists, so I didn't bother going in.

Gateway of India

The next couple of hours was spent strolling around the streets of Colaba, simply oberving the daily life of locals, including street hawkers and vendors, mechanics, salespeople, amateur cricketeers and students. At around 4:00 I caught a cab home, which took about 45 minutes due to traffic, but only cost $3!

That night I attended a yoga class taught by my friend Tanvi, who is in the process of opening her own studio, but interim gives classes on the roof of her apartment building. After a day in downtown Mumbai, it was magic to spend an hour doing yoga under the (smog covered) stars and amid the sounds of the city (i.e. incessant honking).

To be continued...

The Fort Area

Prince of Wales museum

Asleep under the Gateway of India

Aspiring cricketeers

Dolly and Bakhu at the Ghetto

Thumbs up: You've got 1 Rupee!

 

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