Parental Guidence Advised

I collected my mum and dad from Goa airport around noon. They seemed pretty relaxed after such a long flight and clearly enjoyed the ride from the airport to the sea front where our hotel was waiting. After checking in we took a very short stroll down to the hotel cafe which was right on the beach, a perfect location. Before long we were all in the sea trying to fight back the huge Arabian waves. I could tell they liked the place which made me happy. The weather was perfect the atmosphere great and we were eating good Indian food and drinking local beer in the evenings. We had a lot of catch up on I'd not sen any famly for 6months. The next day was also one of relaxing and acclimatizing to the weather and to the unique chilled slow pace of Goa. It's hard to explain what it is like to see cows freely strolling down the beach or hawks/eagles swoop down to sit on the sun bed, or Indian boys burying someone alive for not paying their bill. A couple of days chilling in the sun with the salty air was defiantly needed, for on Tuesday morning we caught the 8hr day train directly east inland to Hampi. The journey went pretty fast with lots to see both inside and outside of the train. From legless beggars to paddy fields and from bathing cows to German tourists out "tashing" the locals.
I had heard a great deal about Hampi but really still did not know what to expect, all I knew was that it was once the richest and largest Hindu Kingdom in south Indian. We arrived at the nearby station of Hospit and mum and dad experienced their first auto-rickshaw drive. The countryside was spectacular. I had heard of Hampi and its boulders, but nothing like what we saw. The closest I can think to compare it to for its natural beauty is The Grand Canyon in the USA but still it's not really a direct comparison. Hampi itself is a relatively recent town. It sprung up over the last 50 years to cater for the hippies who had decided to make their homes up in the surrounding hills. Living in caves and hiding behind the huge boulders, like only hippies can. Now they are not allowed to live in the hills and smoke 5g of weed a day with the priests, they must stay in the village with the rest of us. In the surrounding hills there are over 300 temples carved from the rocks. Some are huge and very spectacular like something from a Indian Jones movie. The boulder laden hills surround a rich fertile oasis with the largest still working temple at the bottom standing some 55metres high with monkeys swinging from the walls. We spotted Lakshmi the resident Temple Elephant and gained some good Karma points by feeding the local cows some bananas. On the second day we hiked up to the top of one of the hills and found yet more temples. I had to admit that we were suffering a little from boulder and temple fatigue at this point. Luckly we were saved by a trip across the river in a boat that looked like a half an egg shell and would not float. We thought we were lucky to make it across until we saw one with about 15 Indian pilgrims in one the same size. We bumpted into an Aussie girl I had met in Goa so it was nice to see a friendly face. We managed to climb up the 500 steps to the top of Hanaman (monkey god) temple in a record 10mins. The view over bouder/temple city was breath taking. We got back just in time to take the river boat of doom back to the other side before they closed down for the day.
After two days of boulder spotting and hiking we got the night train to Bangalore. It was delayed 4 hrs so we were stuck people watching on Hospit platform. Once in Bangalore we headed straight for Maheshs and Seemas place to chill and watch TV before the next leg of the adventures begins.

Finger on the Pulsar

Market day came at Anjuna on Wednesday. This was the last straw. The peaceful stonner beach was descended upon by 18 gezillion more hippies that had come from every rock and cave, near and far to buy locally produced nick-knacks. One benefit was the priceless people watching and local entertainment. This included more than the usual amount of child labour entertainers. Some with swords through their cheeks, some riding painted cows and some very cleaver girl rope walking inside a bicycle wheel rim. After five days hanging out with super stonner aging hippies I decided to move on. I only stayed for so long to try and buy a bike. I failed miserably. Handing over 400 pounds to a grinning man and not owning the bike just did not really give me a warm and fuzzy feeling. I took 4 local buses and headed south to a beach called Colva. In the guide it is described as a small fishing village. I'm not sure which Hindese dictionary the people writing the guide were using but it is none of these things. This place is perfect if you like seeing Indian tourists in their droves (is that a collective noun for Indian men?) swimming in the sea in their Y-fronts.
I arrived yesterday morning and hired a geared bike. A pretty cool pulsar. I have spent the last 2 days driving mainly south from my base and must have visited over 20 beaches. Each beach has a different theme and feel. Baga is the cost-del-hell of Goa. Anjuna is the Ibiza stonner place. Most of the other places usually have a much simpler theme based on the majority population....Israeli beach..Russian beach...English pie and chips beach and Indian tourists beach. It's all good and touring around them all is highly entertaining.
Goa is the richest state in Indian and there are LOTS of churches and mini christian temples. Christianity is a major religion here. We have to remember that even during British rule this place was Portuguese and there are plenty of dilapidated and some restored Portuguese style villas.

Well to end todays entry on a high note. I have GREAT news. In 2 days time Talbot Senior and my mum will be visiting me in Goa. I have sorted a very nice place on the beach for a couple of nights while they recover from jet lag and "India-shock". My mum and dad are very well traveled so they may very well find it a doddle. It's gonna be GREAT to see them, it's been six months and I have a small plan up my sleeve. More adventures are to be had before they have to jet back off home.

Budgie Smuggling

Well what can I say?
This particular part of Goa is horizontally laid back.
Last night I went to a market. Food, beer, live entertainment, including a bloke on fire and lots of ethnic chintz. Today I got up at 8am and had a run along the beach before everyone else had come down from the classAtoC filled night.
I stumbled on a day rave at some shack and ventured to see. I have mixed feelings on how I feel about 40-85 year old hippies in loin cloths dancing in the sunlight completely off their nuts. On my escape route I had to dodge the treeless huggers, past the twizzy stick throwing men and deep through soap less territorial to the waters edge. THEEEWW I made it...only to be confronted by two bat-and-ball playing men in their leopard string G-strings. Now I had seen my fair share of budgie smuggling 'euros' on the Sydney beaches, but never ones so "stringfellow' up the crack. DAMIT.
I made my way back through the maze of dust paths on my trusty 2 wheel bag of rust to the hotel where I spent a while chatting to some fella from Glasgow who had the coolest retro racer.
We went for a drive along the coast to show me all the different beaches and cliff top hangouts passing a couple of big twilight raves. Although Goa (at least this part of it) has bars and beaches and hotels for tourists, there is stil a strong local feel. I visited a small harbour where the fishing boats where coming in and the daily catch was being bartered for. It was one of the many good and interesting experiences I have crammed into a very chilled out day.
Little did I know that my very friendly guide was also some fella that sold certain produce that are in high demand in these areas. I was 'accidentally' introduced to some very rich Indians with cool cars/bikes/cloths. Only turned out they are the bloody Goa-mafia...GREAT.
On my way back he gets pulled by the police, I drive on. Later I find out he had to pay his usual 50,000Rs 'fine' (600 squid). At this point a sharp exit is taken and I'm off.

I think tomorrow I'll just sit on the beach.

I GOA-here and I GOA-there

Well what can I say. After a traumatic 15hr flight from Sydney to Bombay I was a little appre - hensive about stepping back into the sensory overload that is India, especially bum-bay.
Turns out it was all a fuss about nothing.
Where was everyone? Looked like there were only 10million and not 19million people
The humidity was manageable.
I had somewhere to stay in the area I wanted.
Most beggars had both eyes if not all limbs.
I laughed and joked about slitting tourist throats with the notorious Bombay cab drivers.
I did not get short changed each time I bought something.
Even the shit in the streets seemed to smell sweeter.

Bombay is a doddle. I'm hardcore now.

I spent two nights in Bombay waiting for my train south to Goa.
I finally took the 1hr ferry from the harbour out to Elephant Island to look at the rock temples carved from caves dating back 400BC. Also on top of the hill I found an old Cannon battery, not sure what era, maybe WWII.
I hooked up with Davey a fella about my own age from Edinburgh and we got upgraded from 2AC carriage for the 11 hr day journey to 1st class. Nice, had a door and AC and even a sink in the corner, sweet. Davey knew a friend of a friend in Goa so we headed straight for that place in the north a place called Anjuna or something like that. I hired a scooter for about a quid a day and drove a mile to the beach. Pretty nice, hippies hanging out, sea has good surf, it's all clean and mega cheep.
I'm off to the night market tonight which starts about 8 or 10pm. Lots of crap to buy, none of which I will buy. I'm told there are different food stalls and live music and bars. I'm told it rocks.
Of course Ill head up there after I have been to some bar I found off a track that is showing the Utd match at 8pm. So far I think Goa is pretty chilled, a lot nicer than I thought it would be. It's a big place stretching for 100s of KM with each beach having a different type or crowd of people. I just chilled on the beach today, swam in the sea and made new friends. My favourite friend was some India fella who cleaned ear wax from my ears for 300Rs. I knew he was ripping me off and just putting wax on his finger from his little bag but the whole experience was highly ammusing. It's a hard life. I enquired about Royal Enfield and buying one, but I fear the Internet does not have enough bytes to store the rules and regulations on performing this seemingly simple task, so I'll just let you know if I was successful. Well off for my Grandad afternoon nap for I think I might be up late this evening.
tatty-bye