I think people here probably think I'm a bit weird... No, I'm not really up for late nights and drinking. Yes, I'm up for early nights, walking for miles, and reading. No, I'm not up for sitting around all day in a faux-indian-hippy-western-bullshit environment smoking weed, playing board games and being waited on. Yes, I'd rather be alone, looking out the window of a sleeper-class train. This trip is certainly going to be one to remember. I've had such a weird experience, probably 90% because I've been coming to super-sociable places in a super-travelling mood, and 10% because I'm simply not feeling overly confident right now (that might be a bit of an understatement actually). My mind is all over the shop, swaying from loving being alone, to feeling incredibly lonely, to loving being surrounded by fellow travellers (whatever that means), to hating being surrounded by pretentious, 'worldly', people who might well be very sound and simply a victim of my overly-cynical mindset at the moment.
Now, I'm in Hampi, really another Goa but more chilled. Reminds me a lot of Vang Vieng, but not quite as bad. Need to get off the track!
I bloody love India still though.
Thursday, 16 December 2010
Monday, 13 December 2010
India 2010
Yep another lot of pretentious bullshit from me while I 'find myself' in another country. Hopefully it's only me reading this, probably a few years down the line, like I usually do...reminiscing, using it as ammo to bolster my motivation to do it again.
This time has been a bit weird. In the first four days, I've had the highest, and lowest, moment of my travelling life, fallen in love (with a place fortunately, not a girl) and been appalled, dejected, resigned, tumultuous, and ecstatic.
My trip so far in thirty-seconds... bus + flight fine, Delhi same old shit hole but fine, wait-listed train ticket came through (few), train journey probably the best journey, no fuck that, best experience, of my life, Palolem. Palolem deserves a whole bunch of explaining, which I will get to.
I spent hours tooing-and-throwing over whether to go AC or sleeper for my first journey when I arrived. AC would have cost four-times the price, (twenty-eight quid rather than seven), but would have got me in in the middle of the day (rather than the middle of the night), and would have taken twenty-six, rather than thirty-eight, hours. In the end I went for good old fashioned sleeper class, and thank the lord I did. Literally the best journey I've ever had. Made the mistake of booking the bottom-bunk (always book the top! Lord knows why I booked the bottom), which meant a) I couldn't go to bed whenever I wanted and b) the seat had been so worn down by people sitting on it I might as well have been kipping on concrete. Still, having had a stupid (/standard) night on Sunday (bac bar till 7am), 5-6 hours Monday, then barely any sleep on the flight (food was a massive let down by the way, don't go Lufthansa if you like your plane food like me)...so anyway I was knackered. Slept fairly well, but kept waking up every half an hour because my hip kaned or one of my arms had gone dead. The following day made up for it though. Once in the throws of Northern India, the landscape became magical. Jungles, rivers, ocean, so much life, so much greenery, India as seen from the window/door of a train is like no other. Listening to Sigur Ros (and the All Stars) while looking out the window of an Indian train was a truly amazing moment for me. Life literally doesn't get any better.
Came back to earth with a bump when I got of the train. As it was 11pm I opted to get a taxi to Palolem; a place I spent a week or so in six-years previous. It's basically a backpacker/tourist beach in Southern Goa. I decided to get on it, having heard about a silent disco, and went looking for the party. Half way there, I realised I was waaay too tired for this shit, so I got into bed. Within minutes, it seemed I was back in Plymouth. English people wondering past my hut, singing, swearing, generally being typically drunk English wankers. As I lay there, almost asleep, wanting to get up and go partying but not having the confidence/energy, I started to question my ability to travel alone; 'what if you don't meet anyone?' 'what if you end up spending christmas alone?' 'christmas at home this year is going to be wicked!' blablabla... I went to fitful sleep just about as low as I have ever been travelling.
Needless to say it didn't last long. Within hours of waking, I'd met a Swedish girl, Linnia, and fallen into a wicked group of travellers, making friends with a sound Chilean guy, an Irish couple and an American dude. Had a wicked night, although it ended in a 24hr bar/club at the end of the beach that was literally Cuba. English people, English music, English prices. Fucking horrendous. You know what, it was worse than Cuba. Worse. Seriously. Proper wankers in there. People I have never seen in India, even in Goa. The kind of people I would expect in Bangkok, but not India. I left the place with a bitter taste in my mouth (not just the rum), and vowed never to go back.
The next day I felt like shit, but better mentally, and it was a genuinely beautiful day. Palolem, for all its human-related faults, is a seriously beautiful place, and no matter how much the tourist industry seems to want to wreak out Goa's few bits of remaining Indian culture, it still remains, and although the place is basically filled with pricks, the beach is amazing, the palm trees, the sea, its generally beautiful. Not the place for me though.
Over the next few days I began to dislike the place more and more. What I had left England to escape from, I was surrounded by. I need to get out of here. After a lot of deliberation, today I booked a train to Hampi, 8 hours South-West of here. Supposedly a beautiful place, and they don't serve booze! As much as I have loved sunning it here, I'm ultimately bored and need to get on the road again. Purposely booked the super-long day train to make the most of the journey. Can't fricking wait.
This time has been a bit weird. In the first four days, I've had the highest, and lowest, moment of my travelling life, fallen in love (with a place fortunately, not a girl) and been appalled, dejected, resigned, tumultuous, and ecstatic.
My trip so far in thirty-seconds... bus + flight fine, Delhi same old shit hole but fine, wait-listed train ticket came through (few), train journey probably the best journey, no fuck that, best experience, of my life, Palolem. Palolem deserves a whole bunch of explaining, which I will get to.
I spent hours tooing-and-throwing over whether to go AC or sleeper for my first journey when I arrived. AC would have cost four-times the price, (twenty-eight quid rather than seven), but would have got me in in the middle of the day (rather than the middle of the night), and would have taken twenty-six, rather than thirty-eight, hours. In the end I went for good old fashioned sleeper class, and thank the lord I did. Literally the best journey I've ever had. Made the mistake of booking the bottom-bunk (always book the top! Lord knows why I booked the bottom), which meant a) I couldn't go to bed whenever I wanted and b) the seat had been so worn down by people sitting on it I might as well have been kipping on concrete. Still, having had a stupid (/standard) night on Sunday (bac bar till 7am), 5-6 hours Monday, then barely any sleep on the flight (food was a massive let down by the way, don't go Lufthansa if you like your plane food like me)...so anyway I was knackered. Slept fairly well, but kept waking up every half an hour because my hip kaned or one of my arms had gone dead. The following day made up for it though. Once in the throws of Northern India, the landscape became magical. Jungles, rivers, ocean, so much life, so much greenery, India as seen from the window/door of a train is like no other. Listening to Sigur Ros (and the All Stars) while looking out the window of an Indian train was a truly amazing moment for me. Life literally doesn't get any better.
Came back to earth with a bump when I got of the train. As it was 11pm I opted to get a taxi to Palolem; a place I spent a week or so in six-years previous. It's basically a backpacker/tourist beach in Southern Goa. I decided to get on it, having heard about a silent disco, and went looking for the party. Half way there, I realised I was waaay too tired for this shit, so I got into bed. Within minutes, it seemed I was back in Plymouth. English people wondering past my hut, singing, swearing, generally being typically drunk English wankers. As I lay there, almost asleep, wanting to get up and go partying but not having the confidence/energy, I started to question my ability to travel alone; 'what if you don't meet anyone?' 'what if you end up spending christmas alone?' 'christmas at home this year is going to be wicked!' blablabla... I went to fitful sleep just about as low as I have ever been travelling.
Needless to say it didn't last long. Within hours of waking, I'd met a Swedish girl, Linnia, and fallen into a wicked group of travellers, making friends with a sound Chilean guy, an Irish couple and an American dude. Had a wicked night, although it ended in a 24hr bar/club at the end of the beach that was literally Cuba. English people, English music, English prices. Fucking horrendous. You know what, it was worse than Cuba. Worse. Seriously. Proper wankers in there. People I have never seen in India, even in Goa. The kind of people I would expect in Bangkok, but not India. I left the place with a bitter taste in my mouth (not just the rum), and vowed never to go back.
The next day I felt like shit, but better mentally, and it was a genuinely beautiful day. Palolem, for all its human-related faults, is a seriously beautiful place, and no matter how much the tourist industry seems to want to wreak out Goa's few bits of remaining Indian culture, it still remains, and although the place is basically filled with pricks, the beach is amazing, the palm trees, the sea, its generally beautiful. Not the place for me though.
Over the next few days I began to dislike the place more and more. What I had left England to escape from, I was surrounded by. I need to get out of here. After a lot of deliberation, today I booked a train to Hampi, 8 hours South-West of here. Supposedly a beautiful place, and they don't serve booze! As much as I have loved sunning it here, I'm ultimately bored and need to get on the road again. Purposely booked the super-long day train to make the most of the journey. Can't fricking wait.
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