I have recently come home after three weeks travelling around India. It was a wonderful experience and I have some fantastic memories. I was nervous before the trip as last time I went was thirty years ago and I suffered from a very dodgy stomach bug. I was paranoid the same thing would happen this time but took sound advice to only drink bottled water, don't eat any meat or street food and only eat where you know there is somewhere the cook can wash their hands before preparing food. I'm sure I missed out on the tasty street food but maybe that's what got me into trouble last time. I had my vaccinations and took some probiotics to get my tummy ready and off my husband I went.
(Black kite and pigeon fly above rooftop pool at Soho House, Mumbai)
(View from rooftop at Soho House, Mumbai)
Our first stop was Mumbai and after a ten hour flight, we arrived slightly jaded to our Art Deco style hotel where we unpacked, ate dinner, drank gin and tonics, then crashed in our gorgeous room with the softest sheets I've ever slept under. We only had one full day to explore, as were leaving early the next morning to catch a train to Goa. We jumped in a tuk-tuk - going against all my usual safety precautions and swerved through the streets, wearing no seatbelts because there were none. We avoided crashing thanks to the constant beeping of horns to warn other drivers to watch out, which seemed to work. We saw so much colour - painted lorries, buildings, women in beautiful salwar kameez and saris, fruit stalls, shop fronts, which wove along the coastline and through the city centre. We passed skyscrapers and slums while inhaling the pungent smell that accompanies Mumbai. Back at the hotel, we relaxed by the rooftop swimming pool and sipped ice cold beer watching beautiful black kites circle the skies above and pigeons swoop down to refresh themselves with a drink from the water (alarm bells going off about that lack of hygiene but I still braved it and took a dip). We enjoyed live music both nights, which really relaxed us into the holiday groove.
At 4am the following day, we passed the slum area which houses 5 million people in their homes made up of corrugated iron or crumbling concrete buildings, with tarpaulin thrown over to protect from the rain and bricks to hold it down. Some homes had ladders to reach the high up front entrances. It was heart breaking to see and made me feel so lucky for my own upbringing and existence. The taxi driver told us that there is so much work available in Mumbai so there is no need for such poverty but there it still was. Porters hovered on the platform when we reached the station, to help passengers with cases and wheel them along on a trolley or balance on their heads. Once aboard the train, our seats were comfortable and swirled around like office chairs but set fast in one position. Our carriage was full of mainly families and couples dressed in modern clothes. There were two toilets labelled 'Western Style' (upright toilet) or 'Indian Style' (hole in floor). It was a ten hour journey and we had predicted we would be hungry, so had arranged for the hotel to make us up a packed lunch. First, we crashed out for quite a few hours, our body clocks still adjusting and awoke to beautiful views of the countryside, with palm trees, pretty coloured houses, cows and more rickety looking houses with corrugated roofs. The only thing spoiling the view was all the litter lining the tracks.
Reaching Goa, we clambered into a taxi, which drove through dusty, pink sandy roads to our destination. We passed cows walking along the street, three people to a motorbike - not a crash helmet in sight and more litter piling up along the roadside. People sat in the sun, or ambled along, some holding hands, chatting and smiling. There were stalls and makeshift shops selling block printed fabrics, clothes, jewellery and fruit - so much colour, noise and life. A cow was chilling on the beach when we walked along a boardwalk to our holiday chalet. Our room was so cute and painted green and pink - my favourite colour combination. It had a wet room and a mosquito net above the bed which I had to activate immediately for safety and aesthetic reasons. Changing into swimwear, we were beckoned to the sea for a refreshing dip before devouring tempura okra, prawns and Kingfisher beer whilst playing cards. We repeated the above the following day and also took a stroll along the 'high street', getting a bit lost. We passed a Tarzan style tree, full of vines to swing from, more cows and makeshift shop stalls. A few stray dogs followed us but I kept my distance as hadn't managed to get a rabies jab because in short supply in England and I didn't want to start frothing at the mouth or die within 24 hours (not that I'm dramatic or anything). We were only at our accommodation, Casa Jaali for two nights and caught a cab along the coast a bit to Agonda beach for the next four nights. Again, we passed through coral coloured streets, palm trees, cows, women in stunning dress and people on motorbikes.
(Cow on the beach)
(Cute holiday chalet room decorated in pink and green at Casa Jaali)
(Tarzan tree discovered on walk when we got lost)
(Flowers by garden villa at Goa Cottages, Agonda)
Our second stop was Goa Cottages on Agonda Beach and the staff there made us feel right at home. I have never tasted more delicious homemade curry in my life - I convinced the chef to give me his secret recipe for Aloo Gobi, which was incredible. I have since tried cooking back at home but could not replicate - I think it tastes better eating outside under palm trees with crows cawing overhead. We spent two nights in a garden villa and the last two right on the beach with sun loungers. Both huts had verandas with stairs down to the sand and outdoor restaurant. The whole place is shaded by palm trees with coconuts safely netted above so they won't fall on your head. You could walk to the sea in just 20 steps from the restaurant or huts on the beach. It was heavenly to take a dip, walk across the sand, have an outside shower and step into the restaurant, ready for a fruit smoothie or margherita and a plate of calamari plus another game of cards. If feeling sporty, you could join the staff and other guests for a game of volleyball but I just languished about on my sunbed, reading (Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver - which was brilliant) and snoozing before and after going in the Arabian Sea. It was so lovely bobbing up and down in the soothing water and jumping waves. There was a fish BBQ once a week and the cocktails were wonderful. I didn't want to leave, I felt so relaxed but we dragged ourselves away one afternoon to stroll along the 'high street' outside the main entrance to look at homemade table runners, pretty fabrics, clothes and jewellery for sale, which we were tempted to buy. We did eventually have to leave and I already want to go back.
(People playing volleyball on beach at sunset outside Goa Cottages, Agonda)
(The 'High Street' outside Goa Cottages, Agonda)
(Laundry hanging on the line between the 'High Street' and Agonda Beach)
Our third and final stop was in Kerala. We caught the overnight train from the station after requesting a packed lunch for our journey. When we arrived, we found out that our train had been delayed. We later found out that we could have downloaded an App that would tell us the train timetables and delays. It was busy and there was nowhere to sit until we noticed a fancy, padded door with pretend diamonds studded on it, with a sign saying 'executive lounge'. We enquired within and it cost £1.20 an hour to rent a comfortable armchair in an air conditioned room. This seemed like a no-brainer. We made ourselves right at home, reading, doing the crossword, going on our phones, chatting and snoozing. There was a sign in the washroom saying 'do not shower in the toilet' as there is a hose to clean yourself after doing your ablutions, should you wish. We restrained ourselves. Five hours later our train arrived. We made our way along the platform but realised our carriage was right at the far end, so scurried along with our heavy cases to board the last one. When we climbed aboard with just a few minutes to spare, my heart sank. As I looked around the the whole carriage was full only of men and the toilet area was already filthy dirty with a putrid smell. I looked at my husband in panic mode. He said we could get off and stay in Goa if I wanted to but I had to make my mind up there and then as the train was about to depart. I decided to check out our first class 'cabin' first and was alarmed to see that it wasn't sectioned off with doors but only by a flimsy curtain. I felt truly spoilt and scared all at once. We were sharing our 'cabin' with two strangers. The person on the bottom bunk was covered in a pink blanket, whom I presumed was the wife of the man smiling at us and about to climb up on to the top bunk. I said it was okay to stay, as he seemed like a gentleman type but as the train set off, the station master came to check our tickets and realised we had each others bunks. We had to swap bunks as new passengers would be boarding when our bedfellows left during the night. As we switched places, I saw they were gentlemen friends and not husband and wife after all. By then, we were roaring down the tracks and there was no turning back. They seemed pretty safe characters but I was out of my comfort zone so my kind husband acted chivalrously, by sharing the bottom bunk with me and put our luggage on the top bunk. I felt so grateful and protected (which was very un-feminist of me) laying sideways against one another, arms going dead through being lain on but, ultimately, safer with my husband looking after me. We were sweating in the heat and I lay there wondering if the saying 'to give your right arm' was based on what was happening right then. The train chugged along and at half time, our neighbours disembarked and new people took their places. In the end, I slept fairly well apart from the chink of light shining through the curtains and a trip to the 'Indian Style' toilet. We arrived dishevelled into Erkalion station and made our way to catch our connecting day time train which would take another four hours to complete our journey into Thiruvananthapuram station, where we would need to catch a tuk tuk to Varkala in Kerala. It was scorching hot and we discovered there was a four hour delay until our next train arrived. We waited in a unisex waiting area with fans and toilets and next door there was a women only waiting area. It actually became quite meditative just waiting. We read, chatted, looked on our phones and people watched like before but this time it was decidedly hotter - air conditioning is much more preferable to fans. We had been surviving the past 24 hours eating crisps, nuts, banana chips, coca cola and bottled water, as I was too paranoid to eat street food or on board the train, in case I got an icky stomach. Once our connecting train had arrived, we were sticky and tired and slept most of the way before looking out of the window at the palms, coloured houses, litter on the tracks and washing hanging out on endless lines. At one point on the sleeper train, a staff member swept up all the litter on the floor, gathered it up into a bin bag and threw the contents on the track as we sped along. When we finally reached our destination, we looked like ragamuffins. A tuk tuk driver approached us on the platform and offered to drive us to where we wanted to go. He lugged one of our cases up on top of his head, as my husband dragged our wheelie case along. Then before we knew it, the cab driver was crossing the train track to where his tuk tuk was parked on the other side. We followed behind incredulously but thought 'while in India...' . Before long, we were driving along with a lovely breeze floating over us and taking in all the colourful sites until we reached Soul & Surf, where we would be staying for the next ten days.
(Indian Railways)
(First Class 'Cabin' sectioned off by a flimsy curtain)
Surf & Soul in Varkala has beautiful Wes Anderson style accommodation with all the doors painted pale pink. Every morning from 6.30am-11am my husband would go surfing with some others from the hotel. Meanwhile, I would have a lie in, shower, read on the balcony, wash any clothes in the sink and hang out to dry, then we would have a late breakfast together in the Soul Food Cafe onsite - this consisted of a fresh fruit tropical platter, eggs of your choice, watermelon juice and coffee. There were a few tables or day beds to eat by yourself or in couples or five communal benches under a cabana with well needed fans to help keep you cool. The food was wholesome and nutritious and I particularly liked the fish curry wrapped in banana leaves. We then lazed about on sun loungers in the sun but mostly in the shade of palm trees overlooking the crashing waves below. I did go swimming in the sea one day but got turned upside down under water a few times and bashed against the sand, causing a massive bruise on my bum, which put me off going in again - the sea was much calmer in Goa. Every day at 5pm we would do yoga on the top floor shala and it was absolutely blissful. There were two yoga teachers - one more Yin (Pim) and the other more Yang (Vicky) and both styles were wonderful. Incense would be burning, music playing, candles burning and the sound of pea-hens - plus the customary horns beeping below. By the end of each session, the sun would be setting and one day with Pim, we all went down to the beach to meditate afterwards and then cool off in the sea. Most days we were there it was 35 degrees and we frequently went back to our air conditioned room for a blast of cold air plus were having up to three showers a day. Vicky, the Yang yoga teacher also did massage and I had two deep fascia massages during my stay, which were so relaxing and replenishing plus made me feel quite emotional and inspired to take up doing aromatherapy massage again. We made some lovely friends chatting on the communal tables while eating and drinking, surfing and sunbathing. It reminded me of when we stayed in Byron Bay, Australia 30 years before as hippy backpackers and the community vibe with other travellers. We did venture out a few evenings to Mamma Champos, where you could get beer to wash down your food, as Soul & Surf do not serve alcohol and we also ate out a few times at Chimney, which served exquisitely cooked food - Saag Paneer and Aloo Gobi were my favourite dishes, mopped up with butter garlic naan.
(Breakfast from Soul Food Cafe at Soul & Surf, Varkala)
(Wes Anderson style accommodation at Soul & Surf, Varkala)
(View from our room's balcony to the coral sand entrance)
(My dream car - a pink Ambassador in front of Soul & Surf reception area)
(Tuk tuk decorated in Indian garlands in Soul & Surf grounds)
(Kingfisher beer and cards at Mamma Champo's, Varkala Town)
(Fish curry in banana leaf and rice from Soul Food Cafe at Soul & Surf, Varkala)
(Sea view from Surf & Soul's garden)
On our penultimate last day, we caught a cab to the station and a domestic flight back to Mumbai, staying at the same hotel we started our adventure in. More lazing around the rooftop pool commenced before a delicious dinner and cocktails. The next morning we caught a cab with a couple who were catching a domestic flight to Goa Cottages, where we had been and we envied them the start of their holiday. We were just about ready to go home, though, and were looking forward to seeing our family, friends and dog, who we missed. India has left me with a magical, mystical feeling and the urge to do more yoga, meditate, watch sunsets and eat vegetarian curries. My ears are still ringing from the silence filling them after the constant noise of traffic beeping, peacocks and the sound of the sea. My soul is feeling peaceful and I am ready to live more mindfully, floating about in a sarong.
(Tuk tuk line up in Mumbai)
(Sign on a wall in India along our travels...)
Links:
Instagram: @casa.jaali
@kamayarestaurant
Instagram: @vikingsunshine
Instagram: @pimcanettyclarke