Tommorrow never comes/dies (Bundi)

SO I’m in Shimla! Delhi was great but too much too see little time fart arse about.

I’ll carry on where I left off because I will feel guilty missing out Bundi which was an Incredible place.

Bundi/insert name of any rajasthan city is a smallish town in Rajasthan with an incredible palace and fort. I arrived from Jaipur by a hellish pothole ridden trunk road going through a selection of small nothing towns including Tonk. I picked a hotel at random in the lonely planet bible which to my fortune was full by the time I got there. I was recommended his cousin’s place called the Elephant stables which were in fact the palace’s converted Elephant stables so technically I think I can say that I have stayed in a palace during my journey.

‘What part of the palace did you stay in Charles?’

‘The main bit.’

‘That’s a tad vague was it where the maharaja used to sleep?’

‘Not quite.’

‘Oh so must be family or servant quarters?’

‘Well I suppose they are servants of a sort.’

‘Who are?’

‘Elephants, I stayed in the Elephant stables.’

‘Not really the palace is it.’

‘welllllllll….’

The family who ran the guest house were lovely, Raj the husband, was a brilliant host even letting me and a couple other guests join in with the last of his Diwali fireworks and lighting a small fire every night to huddle around. His wife Neema cooked every night, it was great not having to decide from a menu and eating amazing homely thali different every night.

The Palace can be described as stoically beautiful because of it’s level of disrepair. Kipling described the palace to look like it had been the work of goblins rather than that of humans. With descriptive powers like that Kipling could have been a writer as well as baker of mini Battenberg cakes. Some of the rooms had exquisite 14^th century murals others had a large collection of bats. Win win. The view from the palace and the Chittisala gardens above the palace were amazing, a view through the corridor of hills surrounding the city.  England really needs to do better at these good viewpoints, mind you I have yet to go up The Shard for a browse.

Bundi has everything your typical Rajasthan tourist town should have -lake, palace and fort: the Rajasthan blockbuster trilogy- but with less tourists which means less hassle from auto drivers, shopkeepers, tailors, police, whores, dogs, pigs and deer. Met an English couple from Brighton the second night I was there, James and Jess were the first British tourists I had met who I actually enjoyed talking to so that was nice. (Most British people seem to be dicks). Conversations about Bidets, radiolab and men pulling Trucks with their penis were very welcome. Having met them I regretted already booking my train ticket but too much to see etc.  

I’ll say something about Shimla another time, in short it is incredibly beautiful, cold, extremely colonial and the YMCA has table tennis and snooker.

LOVE YOU BYE.

Palace, Fort, Palace, Fort, Temple, Tomb.

Ringo Guest House Connaught, New Delhi.

Well my dogs, are barking. I must have walked about 10km today. From what I have seen so far today Dehli is actually pretty lovely. The metro is extremely good and as I mentioned to Gareth I think we should get one in London, it could be called the ‘underneath the ground train’ or possibly just ‘tunneltrain.’ Either way I think it would be a hit back home.

I haven’t written in a few days would feel bad about it but fuck it, TOO BUSY LIVING YEAH?

I got off the train at 630 and nipped to Hayuman’s Tomb that’s not how it’s spelt but I really can’t be arsed to spell check the name of someone who has been dead for 500 years, I didn’t even know him. Very nice tomb though, the Obama’s went last time they were in Delhi sooo…. Once I found my hotel  I went for a wander saw India gate and had a look round the National gallery of modern art couldn’t be arsed with a day full of sight seeing. Seen far too many forts and palaces in Rajasthan. Don’t get me wrong love a fort and I have a sweet tooth for palaces but I’m sick of them. SICK.

Good solid art though, would have been nice if they had just one Damian Hurst, I mean we did run their country for them, AM I RIGHT?|!|!

In all serious though I have had a cracking week or whatever it’s been. I have in that time visited Jaisalmer, Jaipur and Bundi. Now I will go into far too much detail and add to the 5,000 words of rambling I have so far accumulated.

JAISALMER

Got there after a 5 hour bus journey, where the man behind me insisted on leaning on my seat and using the atheist-fro I have now grown as a pillow which was nice. I did want to give something back to the Indian people and if my locks of curls can provide some comfort that is lovely int it.

In Jaisalmer the business for everyone is camel safaris. Now I did not want to do a camel safari camels to me are like if a horse was design by some form of democratic thinktank. But everyone I had met who’d been to Jaisalmer had said it was fun, the german girls I met particularly liked it.  (They also said they liked my accent. But followed that up with ‘it’s quite funny’) It was cheap and you got to sleep under the stars so that won me over.

That evening I ate in the fort and had a look around the fort, then –yes- I slept inside the fort. The next morning I left for 1 night sleeping on sand dunes and two days of giving my inner thighs a severe beating. Stars are bright in the Thar desert particularly at 3 o’clock in the morning when I awoke to a silent firework display hanging in the sky. That kept me up for an hour, as I then selected Nils Frahm for the soundtrack as a treat.

The next day frankly was very poor. On the plus side we got back in time for the train and the camel guide/herdsman/Shepard/jockey was a really nice chap, very quiet but knew his way around a camel. He didn’t tell me not to get sand in my camera though. Or that if I did it will then only be useful for making horrible grinding-gear sounds.

Got back to Jaisalmer headed to Jaipur on the train.

JAIPUR

Jaipur is a brilliant city which seems to get a bad rep, probably for it just being a big city when everyone who goes to Rajasthan is usually just going to see ruddy forts and palaces in the other towns.

Jaipur has it’s fair share, Amber fort, monkey temple, Jawamahal, and City palace and the city itself is good fun with huge bazaars and good food everywhere. I recall a particularly noteworthy, hot fudge brownie sundae and a saffron-pistachio kulfi which blew me away. Had a lot of sugar in Jaipur when I think about it. (There was a coconut lassi too.)  

The owner of the Hostel I was staying at was a good chap as well, we had a 30 minute discussion about his broadband provider and the fact they over charged him without asking him. He said it was ‘bullshit’ and that thinks the Korean guests did it, I told him broadband providers were sneaky. He continued to tell me about Koreans and how computer-savvy they are.

Amber fort

Solid fort, saw a lot of white people on Elephants which was brilliant. There was a man with a cobra aswell. He assured me ‘no venom, no venom’  but I don’t trust a man with one tooth and a rather dishevelled Turban which -to my trained eye- appeared to have venom stains on.

Monkey temple

Not enough monkeys.

City Palace

Solid palace, lots of marble. Very decadent, very opulent. Spot on. Well done Mister Maharaja

The best thing in Jaipur has to be the Jantar Mantar, which translates into English as abracadabra. Jantar Bantar is an observatory built 300 years ago by Jai ‘the big dog’ Singh. It has a series of sun dials of epic proportions as well as instuments for measuring the altitude and azimuth (I don’t know) of celestial objects. Abracadabra is the name I would choose for any future rockets or space shuttles. I’m sure NASA will read this.

In fact NASA if you are reading I just want to say well done you are doing a sterling job in very difficult circumstances. I count space as one of the most difficult circumstances.

I’m gonna do the rest tomorrow; I want to go get an Ice cream.

LOVE YOU BYE.

Jodhpur Jokes, Bully Boycs, 'balls or no balls' and a dodgy street omlette.

16:52 18/11/2012 Hill View Guest House, Jodhpur

(Bon Iver 2012 is in my ears)

In the weirdest room tonight basically a store room with what can only be fairly described as a sliver of mattress. Only paying a facking quid 20 tho in i. The room does have a bass drum though so might have a play with that. Right let me get this over and done with:

Jodhpur observational comedy.

‘They may call it Jodhpur but they should call it ‘no jodhpurs’ I haven’t seen a fucking pair anywhere. Am I right?’

While I’m at it

More Indian City observational comedy.

‘Udaipur, more like ruddy Rude-aipur. Locals aren’t very helpful.’ (locals were in fact lovely and very accommodating particularly those with guest houses)

‘Chittorgarh?!! should name the place shittorgarh, it’s fair to say I did not enjoy my time there.’

‘Ahmedabad is a bit harsh, Ahmeda-average more like. It’s a satisfactory Gujarati city.’

Right sorry about that. 

RIGHT… Let’s talk CRICKET. (TV talk show, a concept created and devised by Charles Crich.)

Hosted by Boycott, Regular Pundits include Beefy, Gower, Mascarenhas, Harmison and Rob key.

 Matthew Hoggard as the Roving reporter [I imagine him as a Chris Kamara for cricket. ‘Unbelievable Geoff’ could be his catch phrase too, when reporting back to Boycs in the studio. He would do lighthearted cricket stories as well as hard hitting journalism about bribes and stuff, eventually he will be the first cricketer to win a Pulitzer.]

 Beefy will bully Boycott like the old days, perhaps one episode stripping him naked on air for a laugh. Gower is like his little sidekick giggling and goading ‘slap him beefy, slap his bottom’.

Regular features include: Bully Boycott- as described,

Hoggard’s hog challenge, Opening montage shows Hoggard cooking and tucking into a Hog roast, spliced with footage of his best wickets. It then ends with him bowling a hogs head sending stumps cartwheeling. Cutting to a close up shot of Matthew’s face, smiling with hog juice dripping down his chin, title at the top in comic sans.

Matthew invites current and former international players to attempt to eat an entire hog roast whilst wearing batting/wicketkeeping gloves (player’s choice) and a helmet with grill. Pundits in the studio judge: giving scores in the form of runs, 1, 2, 3, 4 or 6 resulting in an innings total. ROB KEY MUST NOT BE ALLOWED IN THE HOG CHALLENGE ARENA AT ANY TIME.

Balls or no ball. Mascarenhas’ idea, Viewers to be shown videos of a bowlers run up and release of the ball. A member of the studio audience then has to guess whether the ball hits the batsmen in the testes or is called a no ball. Prize is a coaching session with any of the presenters, as well as prime hog roast prepared and delivered personally by Matthew Hoggard. No matter what the participant doesn’t go away empty handed depending on the outcome of the video, they receive a ‘Balls’ box or a ‘no ball’ bowling run up marker. Post final series these items will be worth upwards of £50 each on eBay.)

About enough there for a pilot.

Now to the test.

Firstly watching the first day of a test series in India was incredible. As I was walking to the gate, having got my ticket within about 2 minutes of arriving I had the broadest smile on my face. Excitement doesn’t describe it; nervous is a bit one dimensional; anticipation is a bit dry. Nervouslyexcitedanticipation is a bit wordy despite not being an actual word. It was good. 300 rupees for the best ticket about £3.50 in English. Right behind the 3^rd slip at just above ground level. Going in to the stadium I got checked by security 4 times, no cameras allowed along with water and food, some claimed that there scoring book and pen were taken as well.

 A group of England fans started singing Jerusalem as the players came out, now I am not a particularly patriotic man, but in the right context that song always manages to tickle the neck hairs. Overall it was not a good day for England, which in a way was good as I got to see India fans go crazy quite a lot and celebrate the odd wicket from England. Sehwag’s innings was brilliant to watch ‘VIRU VIRU’ and Pujara played some lovely shots. Swann though was the only England player who looked dangerous, could have got 5 on the first day if it weren’t for Trott dropping. Think I cheered Trott up by telling him I loved him when he was on the boundary he gave me a little show of his palm as a thank you. I like to think of him as a manlier Jason Statham.

When Tendulkar came out to bat the roar was amazing as fans ran to get as close to the players entrance as possible. It’s a shame he only managed 15, there was a beautiful 4 through the extra cover in there though. Even when he went off the crowd still screamed their approval. 

Overall despite the poor day for England it was a brilliant day for me. I then got the train to Jodhpur that night, 2 AC sleeper, you get a small wash towel its pretty nice. I ate a whole pack of cookies on the way. Had a good day when I arrived went to the market got some amla, then I walked to the fort found a nice quiet spot over looking the blue city in the fort and read for a 30 minutes. In the evening I went to dinner at a local family’s restaurant in their house and had a  thali with a large bottle of Haywards 5000 an 8% ale. Having finished I was rather well lubricated and went for a coffee on the roof of my hotel and met a couple of German ladies and talked with them for the rest of the night, then  we agreed to watch the sunrise together from the fort in the morning. .

Sunrise was as good as it was anyway else in the world (well done India).  It’s probably the first time I’ve been awake for dawn since Glastonbury 2008.

 In other news I have had the shits, rehydration sachets taste horrid and tesco’s own version of Imodium is not up to the job. I think I got it from a dodgy street omelette yesterday. I wanted to be sure so I had another street omelette today from same vender (Feel like radiolab doing a little experiment. Results so far are inconclusive which is nice). In fairness they are only 30p and you get four slices of bread as well. The fella claims he gets through 1600 eggs a day. Assuming usually it’s a two egg omelettes that’s 800 omelettes. Not even using a Tefal coated pan either.

LOVE YOU BYE

Sophie's choice, Thali, Gap yah and big forts.

15:54 Ahmedabad- Cadilac Hotel

In Ahmedabad for the first day of the series India vs. England! Already met one chap who is also here for the cricket, I am meeting him for dinner tonight to plan for tomorrow. The Stadium is about 2km outside of the city. Tickets cost 30 rupees about 35p for regular seats, for the barmy army section it costs 300 rupees. So cheap it makes me want to stay for the whole test! I really shouldn’t though, have to head north next back in to Rajasthan. The main problem is getting away from Ahmedabad. I should have booked a train ticket earlier but because it was Diwali last night everyone is travelling and seeing family for the next few days before the holiday ends. So if I can’t get a train tomorrow evening I am going to try to get a bus and if I can’t do that then I’ll just have to watch a full test match. Like Sophie’s Choice or something.

It feels like I have done a hell of a lot of travelling already, which is worrying. I have seen some amazing sights and met some nice people along the way which I suppose is what this travelling lark is about. In Udaipur I met Anna from Poland at the city palace, spent a couple nights with her for dinner including the all you can eat thali place. There must have been 20 waiters each coming round with there own individual thali dish dal, paneer masala, popadoms, chapatti, roti, these mini treacle pudding balls, coconut milk, aloo gobi, AS MUCH AS YOU WANT for 140 rupees. Anna in turn also introduced me to Rosie n semi-expat living in a caravan in kent for half the year then her house on the lake in Udaipur. Not sure if I could hack a caravan in Kent for half the year to live in India.

GAP YAH

I also met my favourite person so far on this trip his name was Matthew and he was on his gap yah. He was wearing ali baba trousers, sandles with straps past the ankle, had three bandanas around his head and was donning a quicksilver vest. THREE BANDANAS, One bandana sure your on a gap year go crazy, two bandanas okay trying to be a bit different or couldn’t decide which one I’ll let you off, Three bandanas wow.

 Him and a few friends were having a ‘cheeky bit of garnja’ on the roof of the hotel. He was travelling around to meet all the beautiful people in India who ‘have so little but still manage to have a meaningful existence’ he talked about how back home he would never smoke a spliff but ‘when in rome.’ I was unaware marijuana was such an important part of India culture, he nodded slowly and silently in a way that suggested I had a lot to learn.  He proceeded to offer me some. I explained with a little less irony then I had hoped ‘I can't I go straight to munchie town.’ He laughed then looked at me like he’d found a kindred spirit who knew his pain ‘OMG I get such bad munchies too, we’ve just ordered like 5 popadoms!'

  He then proceeded to explain how ‘OMG I have spent so much today I’m going to have to go straight to the cash machine tomorrow and get some more dollar.’ The French girl who had joined us at this point then punctured his gap yah-ishness by asking ‘why do you need dollars in India?’ to which he replied hurriedly

 ‘Oh no I don’t mean actual dollars, I just say dollar when I mean money.’

‘Why though? Why not just say rupees?’

‘I say it coz I is gee’ he replied in as grime a voice he could muster. Him and his friends then giggled a lot. Each of his 3 friends taking a turn to say ‘gee’ in there respective grime voices.

The French girl replied ‘oh right’ I couldn’t tell if her smile was genuine or of utter confusion.

At this point I felt I’d got what I’d come for and went to bed.

I think the only way I can end this is bit is

NEEDLESS TO SAY I HAD THE LAST LAUGH

CHITTOR

Chittorgarh was ruddy awesome, a huge fort on the Rajasthan plains. For you History buffs out there, it is a fort that has seen some pretty gruesome battles and jauhars (the men dress in saffron robes go to battle to certain death the women and children throw themselves on the funeral pyres.) In the ‘Great Jauhar’ it’s though 13,000 women and children and 32,000 men died. Aside from the ghosts of self immolated spirits the fort has some temples (I have always loved a nice temple), large towers, a beautiful reservoir built into the wall of the fort, and yes a few monkey’s for good measure.

I’m not sure Chittor gets many tourists, before the bus had even stopped there were about 20 auto rickshaw drivers at my window shouting at me like children chasing an ice cream van. Each trying to persuade me to come with them, so they get commission from the hotel. 20 fully grown men shouting details of the hotel they know and how cheap they’d make it including ‘free rickshaw to hotel’, ‘hot water’ ‘nice restaurant’ then one of them shouted ‘free sightseeing’ all the rickshaw drivers laughed at him. There’s always one. I sat down to sort my stuff out once I got off the bus. They all surrounded me again.

One driver just sat down next to me whilst the chaos unfolded he just whispered tenderly ‘Nice hotel. Good price. Not far. Please sir… ….Please.’ I walked away with the more committed of the tuk-tuk pilot pack following me still shouting shit about their brother’s or friends hotel.

The train is much more laid back especially the journey I had yesterday from Udaipur to Ahmedabad. It was an old metre gauge train with sleeper and seating compartments only. It was a 13 hour journey stopping through every village with a train station along the way. Some had platforms others just a sign in the ground. It was great stopping at every larger village on the way for 30 minutes to have tea, lunch or dinner Having a cup of tea and some pakoras is now the only sustenance I accept on trains. I enjoy trains that stop for food. I also enjoy trains where I almost choke from firework smoke going through outer Ahmedabad.

I AM WATCHING TEST CRICKET IN INDIA TOMORROW.

I AM WATCHING TEST CRICKET IN INDIA TOMORROW.

I AM WATCHING TEST CRICKET IN INDIA TOMORROW.

I AM WATCHING TEST CRICKET IN INDIA TOMORROW.

I AM WATCHING TEST CRICKET IN INDIA TOMORROW.

I AM WATCHING TEST CRICKET IN INDIA TOMORROW.

I AM WATCHING TEST CRICKET IN INDIA TOMORROW.

I AM WATCHING TEST CRICKET IN INDIA TOMORROW.

I AM WATCHING TEST CRICKET IN INDIA TOMORROW.

Also I have a really fat swollen finger on my left hand. I’ve named it ‘my pink cigar’.

I AM WATCHING TEST CRICKET IN INDIA TOMORROW.

I AM WATCHING TEST CRICKET IN INDIA TOMORROW.

I AM WATCHING TEST CRICKET IN INDIA TOMORROW.

I AM WATCHING TEST CRICKET IN INDIA TOMORROW.

I AM WATCHING TEST CRICKET IN INDIA TOMORROW.

I AM WATCHING TEST CRICKET IN INDIA TOMORROW.

I AM WATCHING TEST CRICKET IN INDIA TOMORROW.

I AM WATCHING TEST CRICKET IN INDIA TOMORROW.

I AM WATCHING TEST CRICKET IN INDIA TOMORROW.

Cave Top Trumps, missed trains, riding a triceratops and Lakes.

11:05 10/11/2012 Hanuman Ghat, Udaipur. 

HELL OF A FEW DAYS.

Currently sat on a roof terrace overlooking the lake in Udaipur. We really need to get an Udaipur in the UK. In layman’s terms it’s kind of like if you took Leamington spa, then popped Rutland water in the middle.  (For the record I have never been to Leamington spa.) Udaipur also has a palace so I reckon the fictional British town would need something like Kensington palace but bigger.
(loft conversion?)

Its been a crazy few days, So 4 days ago I got the bus from Aurangabad to Jalgoan stopping off at the Ajanta caves on the way. Ajanta is much like Ellora but better. In cave top trumps the break down is as follows:

	Ellora	Ajanta
Location	2	5
Masonry skills	5	4
Facilities	1	5
Monkeys	5	- (no monkeys)
Number of caves (lower value wins)	34 (Too many)	28

Ajanta scrapes it on average. Top trump caves should definitely be made, might suggest it to the fellas at Top Trumps HQ.

From Ajanta to Jalgoan I got chatting to a guy called Abi he was shocked to hear that I was atheist. He suggests I read the Quran as I will be more fulfilled. Apart from the thorny issue of religion we had a good chat about cricket and agriculture Abi was training to become a farmer like his father. The array of fruit and crop he wanted to grow was ridiculous about 10 different things bananas, wheat etc. He told me his love for his JCB’s and laughed at our family having a mini tractor to cut the grass.

In Jalgoan I found a nice hotel from the holy scriptures of lonely planet. Nice hotel got him down from £6 to £4. His service was ridiculous though bringing me hot water and chai as soon as I got in the room extended my check out time drew me a map of Jalgoan. Very nice chap. The next day I had to get a train at 5 hung about all day went to buy some new headphones, which are now broken anyway. Got to 5 I made my way to the station.

At the station I sat at the platform waiting for the train reading The Corrections. I had just began the chapter about Denise which is very salacious then I look at my watch and its 1715 and the train has gone. That’s £2 I’ll never see again and another 2 for the connection in Ahmedabad I’d certainly miss. I went and bought an unreserved ticket for £1.50 on the 2130 train this would guarantee me standing space and no sleep for the proceeding 10 hours on the train. I sat outside of the station and was called over by a 55 year old man in a blue shirt telling me to sit on the bench with him so I’m not spat on from the station footbridge. I told him what had happened and he said he’d get me a sleeper berth no problem. He was a ticket agent and told me that because I’m foreign if he helped explain I was tired to the conductor I would be fine. I sat with him for the next couple of hours he spent a lot of time on his phone shouting and negotiating with the person on the other end. Him and his heavies then went away for an hour explaining in a rather sinister way that he ‘had some business to take care of’. Now from my experience of the language of nefarious characters in films and TV this usually means someone is about to be ‘rubbed out’, extorted, or raped. Still I sat and read while I waited keeping a close watch of the minute and hour hand this time round.

When he gets back with a surprising lack of blood stains, bandaged knuckles, he said to follow him down the darkest alley imaginable. From School I remembered ‘personal safety’ talks explaining that I must not accept sweets from strangers (even if it was a ‘whole four fingered KitKat’ as one boy asked) and somewhere in that same pool of information came the instinct that I shouldn’t follow this murderer, extortor and possible rapist down this alley. I climbed the stairs telling him I would meet him on the platform. As I get on the platform I hear a train’s horn blaring from the track to the left of me. The ticket agent had a just wanted to take me on a shortcut over the tracks in front of a moving train not stopping at the station. Explaining when he got to me, ‘shortcut, shortcut’.

Eventually he got me on the train and somehow from the fear of standing for ten hour in a crowded carriage I was asleep in my sleeper berth.

I awoke in Ahmedabad freezing (told you I’d need my barbour Mum) and proceeded to scout out hotels for the cricket when I come back to Ahmedabad on the 14^th November. This killed an hour in the city just 13 more before my train to Udaipur at 11pm. I decided to cross Nehru Bridge and find an internet café to kill some more time, on my way visiting Sidi Sayid’s mosque on the way. Across the bridge I met two Students on on there way to work the other on there way back from Lectures. I had the routine conversation: where am I from; why I am in India; how long I am here for; where I am going next. I then went on my way and sat down at a bench to apply some child’s suncream. Whilst sat there one of the students, Nehal, passed me again and stopped to ask what am I doing just sat on a bench. I explained my predicament and he offered to show me somewhere nice for breakfast.

He then offered to take me back to his house near the airport meet his family and have some lunch with him, and then he would show me around. With nothing else to do this seemed a perfect solution. He proceeded to reassure me that he was a ‘good guy not a bad guy’ and that I should be careful as not everyone was like him. Everyone is very suspicious of the neighbouring states in India, people in Maharashtra warned me about going in to Gujarat, and then in Gujarat, Gujaratis warned me about going into Rajasthan.

Having got to his house we had lunch and he let me shower. Then he showed me around his home village. Nehal’s lived in a small village near the airport, populated mainly by families who worked at the airport. A series of peach 3 floor houses with a balcony and each with a roof top terrace, which as Nehal explained was often  populated by monkeys that some times got into the house and wrecked the kitchen looking for any fruit and veg they could get there simian paws on. As we left to go exploring the rest of his village I saw one of the audacious thieves running down the street.

From exploring his village he took me on his bike to meet his girlfriend at the beauty parlour in the city. Weaving through traffic on the back of a motorbike in India is one of the most terrifying and exhilarating experiences you can have. Reaching your destination alive is incredibly satisfying. 

(By the way I am writing this listening to Bright Eyes –Burn Rubber [Simon Joyner Cover Live @KCRW 2003] Connor describes it as his favourite travelling song and it is brilliant.)

Me and Nehal then went back to his and he showed me photos of his family, some incredible 90’s fashion. Reminded me of all the crap we used to get on a Sunday afternoon from ‘Fame Fashions’ in Leicester.

We drove to Ghandinagar to the national park, with its leopards, antelopes, crocodiles and dinosaurs. I Sat on a baby Triceratops made me think of Jurassic park erotic fan fiction and Eavis riding his Tri-Tops through Glastonbury. Nehal also told me the story of how he once was lost in a forest in Assam for four days surviving on oranges and a snake. One of his friends cried the whole time [bet he gets shit all the time ‘ …remember that time in the forest when you cried for four days straight.’] Eventually they found someone who couldn’t speak Hindi, English or Gujarati but was able to understand they were lost.

Back at Nehal’s house we had dinner it was amazing Gujurati food. His family were so kind to take me in clean me and feed me such incredible food. Despite being stuffed to the gills his mother kept offering me more they were too generous. His mother even offered to do some washing for me! Anything I asked for she would have helped me.

Later on Nehal dropped me off the station rushing through traffic at night on a motorbike always makes me feel like I’m on a Lightcycle. Nehal concurred. Looking back at the previous 13 hours on the way to the station, my smile stretched from ear to ear. India seems to be full of surprises, kind people and sheer bloody fun everywhere you turn. Me and Nehal were talking about how strange it is how half way around the planet you can meet people and it seem like you’ve known each other for years, and that in fact no ones life is really that dissimilar. Unless like you don’t have a smartphone, middle class up-bringing and a safe home, in which case our lives would be pretty different.

Udaipur

Train to Udaipur was fine, I went sleeper class again which is the lowest priced reserved bed. 10 hour journey for about £1.50 is alright. With it being quite cool in the north AC is an unnecessary luxury.

Right this post is getting pretty dry need to up the tempo a bit.

Udaipur:

§         Lot of tourists, which is a change from the weird places I have been in the last week.

§         Tailors everywhere, not sure if I trust a suit made for £30.

§         Obsessed with Bond here. Octopussy, which was filmed here, shows Roger Moore at his most sexist and racist. Also the bit where the soviets are calling the west ‘decadent pigs’ whilst sitting on an automatic rotating cabinet desk is my favourite.

§         Venice of India.

§         Lots of little alleys.

§         Big Ol’ Lake

§         All you can eat, Thali place near the station is incredible.

Chittorgaugh next. (REALLY BIG MEWAR FORT)

Poo on the wall, Caves and Jeeps

19:57 Aurangabad Hotel Kartiki. 5/11/2012

Arrived in Aurangabad at 13:00 this afternoon, then having been hassled by people seeking hotel commission I eventually made it to a nice hotel. So far I have not needed AC a Big ol’ fan seems to do a job. This current room is my favourite so far in terms of lack of attention to detail. Its really nice TV lots of furniture, in general it’s a well thought out space. My only criticism is that someone could have brushed away the turd remains on the bathroom floor or at least cleaned the dubious brown wall stain leading to it.

Had another great bus journey, Do not get me wrong I love a train but in Maharashtra the bus is brilliant to see the smaller towns, have a chat with people at truck stops. Sigur Ros’ latest album fitted the bill, very good at playing instruments and singing in foreign them chaps.

I went to the Ellora caves today basically some temples cut into a cliff face. The main temple ‘Kailasa’ took 150 years with over seven thousand labours, I would make some sort of hilarious quip about builders only working for 100 of those years but I feel building contractors in the 8^th century or 21^st get a fair bit of abuse as it is. That said I think when it got to 100 years in to the project they must have had to pick up the pace a little. Large Monolithic Pillars are my favourite.

My favourite cave at Ellora (we all have one) has to be the Buddist Vihara in Cave 5 (the underdog) basically a ruddy large assembly hall with stone benches.

On the way back from Ellora I got a Jeep back to Aurangabad. Basically a cross between a taxi and a bus. Not just in looks but also in that it picks up anyone waiting irrespective of how many are already on board. For all those stats fan out there it breaks down like this:

TATA JEEP

Legitimate seats: 6 (3 in the front 3 in the back)

Adapted seating plan: 14 ( 3 in the front, 4 in the middle, 4 on makeshift benches in the back  and 3 children on the floor.)

I was in the middle seats and felt surprisingly comfortable. On this type of seating plan I estimate I can get around 8 in a Fiat Seicento allowing for reasonable comfort.

Then I had dinner (Curreh). I have decided Naans are overrated; I’m going to throw it out there… Chappati.  That said the grand slam of chappati sounds a bit gay. Im off to bed might even do some washing in a bucket. A bucket is sort of like a washing machine here, but no electric so you have to use your hands. On the plus side pretty quiet on top RPM. Don’t want to upset anyone so I haven’t explained the concept of a tumble dryer.

NIGHT NIGHT

Goa, Gems and Wrestling

4/11/2012 National Hotel, nr Pune central railway station.

I have spent a whole day walking around Pune and found nothing of interest. The museum of culture was closed, and the only place I went in was upper middle class shopping mall in the business and government district of Pune. Seems apt as this is a city with no real history but a growing population where a minority are very well off. There are no tourists around which seems to mean there is nothing here worth seeing anyway. It is merely a stop gap before I get the bus to Aurangabad tomorrow at 8am. The journey to Pune was brilliant a sleeper bus though terrifying did allow me to meet some drunk early-20 year olds from Indore. They were very interested in sport  specifically wrestling, cricket and Michael Owen.One lad who’s number I have exchange with said he’d show me a good time at a discoteque in Indore said he is going to play cricket for India, he’s twenty two about five stone in excess of an ideal BMI and claims he’s the next Jacques Kallis. The best part of my journey though was the 30 minute conversation about wrestling these boys all loved it. I explained I hadn’t seen it in a long time but there knowledge was extensive and stretched back to the late 90’s onwards. Questions they asked and my answers were as follows:

Q. Who is your favourite wrestler of all time?

A. Mick Foley as anyone but Dude Love.

Q. Best Match?

A. Hell in a cell Rock vs Undertaker.

Q. Favourite Tag team Partnership?

A. Hardy boys or Dudley Boys.

Q Person who you think has the best athletic physique?

A. Rikishi (They fucking loved that)

Q. Did you like the Rock?

A. I preferred him when he was just Dwayne Johnson.

Though my days in Goa were few I had a lovely time. First day I just relaxed by the beach and read. On the second day I hired a scooter and went roaming about. I went to Mapusa where a man said he could give me work transporting gems. When I asked him how much I could earn he was fantastic ‘let me see, erm erm…….. around 50,000 pounds sterling.’ Seemed legit. Then I came back and met a young dutch woman named Jolande. We had a quick chat then I mentioned about going for some food later. Jolande had lived in Varanasi for a year when she was 22 and hasn’t stopped coming to India since, which was good for me to have someone to speak about all the places I wanted to visit to someone who has been to them all before.

 We got on pretty much instantly and conversed over dinner, lunch and breakfast about any and every topic. I sensed I waffled for the most part particularly after an evening beer. We swam and also went to Mapusa market together where she introduced me to Amlas and amazing fruit that somehow releases every flavour you could imagine from its dense plum-like structure. At first it seems too sour then gradually over the course of consumption it begins to leave traces of sweetness each side of the tongue. Incredible fruit may start an amla farm when I get back. Jolande was ever so nice, wonderful company.

MUMBAI AND GOA

19:25 31^st October 2012- Garden Villa, Vagator

Turns out in India they speak a different form of foreign so my work in the airport was a ruddy waste of time.

Sitting in my DOUBLE bedroom in Vatagor in Goa, 400 rupees (Indian Rupee seems to be worth a lot less then the Hyrulean Rupee) ballin’. Tipsy off a large bottle of Kingfisher. I won’t hold it up as a paragon of luxurious beach breaks but its cheap, hot and 5 minutes away from the beach where the sea is warm but not as clean as the Cornish coast. I have not met anybody who speaks English but there seems to be a large Russian presence, perhaps coming to the konkan coast to exploit the wide natural ports convenient for exporting spices from India, as the Portuguese did in the 16^th century. Staying here for 3 days just so I can get De-jetlagged and have a look around at some of the Portuguese forts etc.

 I will probably hire a scooter or a bicycle tomorrow as the roads are no where near as crazy as Mumbai where it was a Game Theory applied to the road, in that there is no giving way, everyone looks after themselves and the assumption is you will be cut up, yet there is some kind of order because no one trusts each other. If you do trust someone you will end up dead it seems.  

Mumbai is just crazy, immediately and for the rest of the time there you are completely immersed by its soundtrack. The most disorganised and warped horn section constantly pounding your eardrums. Then the smell and taste hits you, a relelentless, acrid, thick smog that sits at the back of your throat the whole time you are there. This is then punctuated by spicy and sweet smells of small curry and sugar cane stands. In looks it is not dissimilar to the image of a future London portrayed by ‘Children of Men’ particularly because of the decaying British buildings, but (for the time I was there) less bombs and less Clive Owen. Having got to the hostel I met a ‘dorm friend’ Juao portugese surfer fella who mentioned karma at least three times over the course of the 4 hours, apart from that he was a nice guy. Me, Juao and this Chilean guy think his name was Nathan went and looked around a few places marine drive, Malabar hill with parks looking over the peninsula and Baganga a lake with ghats surrounded by high rises.  The kids were playing marbles, cricket with a tennis ball around the lake then asking us to say their names then taking the piss out of each other when we inevitably pronounced it wrong. After that I was nackered so I went back to the hostel for a kip visiting haj ali’s mosque (Basically a mosque on pier) on the way. Woke up a bit later by another fella sorting his stuff out for the night David from Budapest, worked in finance back home but took 3 months out at a time to go travelling. We went and got dinner (he didn’t like spicy food.) then walked to the gateway of India. He kept on saying how he wanted to find some girls and that everyone seemed to be ‘pikeys’ turns out he same meaning as British meaning and he was a horrible man. Nonetheless I ignored him for most of the night and we walked through the fishing dock bit of Colaba where most families seemed to be listening to a band of a few drums a wind organ where we were told by a local man for ten rupees (donation to the Gods) they would sing your name and all about you. The local man shelled about 50 rupees for his whole family to have songs about them his children all seemingly very embaressed. Thought I’d give it a go the asked my name then whether I was north south east or west. They sung

‘Charles hindi words South England hindi words’ think I got mugged off, during the hindi bits locals seemed to laugh a bit. (should have asked for my money back)

I had a good last day overall in Mumbai, I got up around 8ish (pam makes me breakfast.) went to the train station got myself an AC3 sleeper ticket to Thivim station near Goa for 2300. Then I picked up a phone sim card and headed for the England warm up game with David in tow. We met a nice Indian chap name Rahul David said he wasn’t named after his close namesake. He showed us to Brabourne stadium and was tempted to head in with us but said his wife would kill him if he watched cricket all afternoon with us. It was free entry in and was pretty much empty despite a few groups of English fans and Indian children about. David left pretty quickly which was good I’m not sure if I could have coped with every over intersected with chat about the intricacies of female genitals from every country he’s visited.

 The Cricket was good fun, WATCHING ENGLAND PLAY IN INDIA. Had a great spot behind the wickets, pitch weren’t doing much had good a fair bit of bounce. India were on the ropes when subjected to a bit of the short stuff. Bresnan grafted as per. Indian fella next to me would taunt me every time India A hit a boundary. English lads on tour, got a few waves from Swann et al. The Indian children ran to the fence every time Anderson came to the boundary one child in particular shouting ‘JIIMMMMY JIMMMY’ every time he came over. Good fun some of the barmy army (shirts off England tattoos\shirts on 1993 England test shirt) there who I was sat next to had been on every tour in the last 20 years according to one worse for wear British Lady. Really want to watch the first test now, oh my days, it’ll be incredible.