Well, I've made it, after an uneventful journey back (not helped by sitting behind someone who managed to extend his chair back into my lap), only hiccups being that poor Deb (my sister) managed to visit terminals 2,3 and 4 before finding me,and that I have an absolutely streaming cold (thanks, Ooty).
Before I close down, let me recommend two books I am reading on India. One is "In spite of the gods : the strange rise of modern India" by Edward Luce, and the other is "The algebra of infinite justice", by Arundhati Roy. The first is written with critical affection by an English journalist (married to an Indian)and the second with critical passion by the Keralan author of "The god of small things". I'm not yet ready to give you a clear account of the two books, but I am interested to see that both are highly critical of the traditional placing of the village at the centre of Indian culture and identity. They say the village is at the centre of the problems (as did that young Intel employee I met in Bangalore). Over two thirds of Indians live in rural India, or rather, fail to make a living in the country. Luce argues that there needs to be a shift to industrialisation and urbanisation: that the agriculture is not viable unless plots are larger and modernised methods adopted. Roy is more angry: she sees the wretched villagers as the victims of cynical exploitation: by the state, businesses and the varoious international players, not least the World Bank.
These two books, plus the Amartya Sen, which I left in France with Chris, should help me develop a more critical sense, perhaps a less romantic view of what I have seen.
None of this will change my intense enjoyment of travel in India and my respect and liking of Indian people. We have a lot to learn from them (though not perhaps their driving habits...).
Goodbye readers and thank you for your messages of appreciation. Now to sift my way through the photos.
Thursday 15 February 2007
Monday 12 February 2007
Mumbai - Bombay. BIG city!
My flight was with one of the India Ryanair type companies, Kingfisher, but it was ten times better. It took off more or less on time, we were presented with a zip-up plastic bag which as well as earphones for the video entertainment screen, had a couple of sweets to suck during takeoff and a rather nice biro. My veg meal was also pretty good. All this for less than 35 quid for 850km.
I was rather dreading Mumbai airport as guidebooks and fellow travellers have warned me of the touts. I ignored all offers of taxis and almost by accident discovered the pre-payment taxi queue. Mumbai actually seems to operate with taxis which have meters and printout sheets telling you waht the rate is!
The drive into Mumbai was pretty impressive. It was by now night, and I got the impression of a huge city with high rise blocks and neon lights everywhere, and fast moving often five-lane traffic. Well, it would be five lanes if people stuck to the lanes...
I was booked into a hotel called Volga II. We eventually found the road, thanks to my Lonely Planet map. I have since discovered that Mumbai taxi drivers rarely speak English and I get the feeling that they have not taken the equivalent of the London black cab city knowledge test.
As soon as I stepped out of the taxi, I was approached by touts egging me to come to Hotel Volga. No, no, I said, I already have a reservation in Hotel Volga II. Whereupon a smoother guy appeared and said he was the manager of Hotel Volga II, produced a crd for the hotel, and said they were the same group. It was ten in the evening, so I gave in.
Perhaps I should have insisted. The 'hotel' is up three flights of an extremely dirty staircase, my room is at the end of a manky corridor, with a washroom and staff kitchen immediately outside, and the room itself is one of the dingiest I have stayed in. The sheet (singular - lots of cheaper places only offer a bottom sheet) looks clean, but the rubbish basket has not been emptied, the floor of the shower room looks dodgy (I have emptied my Dettol bottle on it) and the shower drain is blocked. I'm going to avoid too much washing till London!
Not a bad night, once the guys in the corridor outside went to bed around midnight. This morning it was raining! Apart from a couple of drops in my first week, this is the first real rain on this trip, and even this stopped after an hour, but it left Mumbai grey and muggy for the morning (it has cleared up this afternoon).
I'm in Colaba, the most famous touristy area of Mumbai, less than 400 metres from the Gateway of India (through which the British troops left India for the last time at Independence) and decided to do a walking tour of this area.
First impressions: Mumbai is dirty. The streets are dirty, even in front of the posh upmarket hotel Taj Mahal, which overlooks the Gateway of India, and the sea is visibly polluted. The grey weather did not help, but I was a little disappointed by my walk: Mumbai's grandiose buildings turn out to be a rather drab grey or yellow brick colour. Why was I expecting red, as in Rajasthan?
I then made my way along a broad highway with large museums (closed on Mondays), colleges, clubs and libraries on either side. I was immediately plunged into Victorian London - Indian style. These grand colonial piles were clearly built by architects of the school of the V&A. They are impressive, and quite unlike anything else I have seen in India, but as I said, I found their colours drab. It doesnt help that it is difficult to look properly at buildings when concealed by hoardings, railings (with guards forbidding entry for photos) and five lanes of traffic in front.
I passed the law court area, with lawyers walking past in black suits and white cravat like neckerchiefs. Next to the courts was the University of Bombay, another Victorian pile, and in front of it Oval Maidan, where I think international cricket matches are played. Today there were about four games being played,ranging from a serious one with most people in white to a handful of s small, Moslem boys.
I moved on to the Oxford Bookshop, where I bought the Edward Luce book (hardback)for less than a fiver. Final stop, a fabric shop, where I bought three metres of silk, also for less than a fiver. (Sadly I dont have time to get a tailor to make it up into a long shirt for me.)
Now I'm going to my horrible room for a good read. I'm feeling better, but still queasy, and am just marking time till I set off for the airport tomorrow morning. A pity, as I think other areas of Mumbai deserve to be explored, but only if you have lots of stamina.
So - - this is probably my last entry from India. Thanks to all who have written - and congrats for sticking with my verbose blog to the end. I look forward to seeing if any of the photos are worth adding to these words (sadly none of Varkala).
Goodbye
Frances
I was rather dreading Mumbai airport as guidebooks and fellow travellers have warned me of the touts. I ignored all offers of taxis and almost by accident discovered the pre-payment taxi queue. Mumbai actually seems to operate with taxis which have meters and printout sheets telling you waht the rate is!
The drive into Mumbai was pretty impressive. It was by now night, and I got the impression of a huge city with high rise blocks and neon lights everywhere, and fast moving often five-lane traffic. Well, it would be five lanes if people stuck to the lanes...
I was booked into a hotel called Volga II. We eventually found the road, thanks to my Lonely Planet map. I have since discovered that Mumbai taxi drivers rarely speak English and I get the feeling that they have not taken the equivalent of the London black cab city knowledge test.
As soon as I stepped out of the taxi, I was approached by touts egging me to come to Hotel Volga. No, no, I said, I already have a reservation in Hotel Volga II. Whereupon a smoother guy appeared and said he was the manager of Hotel Volga II, produced a crd for the hotel, and said they were the same group. It was ten in the evening, so I gave in.
Perhaps I should have insisted. The 'hotel' is up three flights of an extremely dirty staircase, my room is at the end of a manky corridor, with a washroom and staff kitchen immediately outside, and the room itself is one of the dingiest I have stayed in. The sheet (singular - lots of cheaper places only offer a bottom sheet) looks clean, but the rubbish basket has not been emptied, the floor of the shower room looks dodgy (I have emptied my Dettol bottle on it) and the shower drain is blocked. I'm going to avoid too much washing till London!
Not a bad night, once the guys in the corridor outside went to bed around midnight. This morning it was raining! Apart from a couple of drops in my first week, this is the first real rain on this trip, and even this stopped after an hour, but it left Mumbai grey and muggy for the morning (it has cleared up this afternoon).
I'm in Colaba, the most famous touristy area of Mumbai, less than 400 metres from the Gateway of India (through which the British troops left India for the last time at Independence) and decided to do a walking tour of this area.
First impressions: Mumbai is dirty. The streets are dirty, even in front of the posh upmarket hotel Taj Mahal, which overlooks the Gateway of India, and the sea is visibly polluted. The grey weather did not help, but I was a little disappointed by my walk: Mumbai's grandiose buildings turn out to be a rather drab grey or yellow brick colour. Why was I expecting red, as in Rajasthan?
I then made my way along a broad highway with large museums (closed on Mondays), colleges, clubs and libraries on either side. I was immediately plunged into Victorian London - Indian style. These grand colonial piles were clearly built by architects of the school of the V&A. They are impressive, and quite unlike anything else I have seen in India, but as I said, I found their colours drab. It doesnt help that it is difficult to look properly at buildings when concealed by hoardings, railings (with guards forbidding entry for photos) and five lanes of traffic in front.
I passed the law court area, with lawyers walking past in black suits and white cravat like neckerchiefs. Next to the courts was the University of Bombay, another Victorian pile, and in front of it Oval Maidan, where I think international cricket matches are played. Today there were about four games being played,ranging from a serious one with most people in white to a handful of s small, Moslem boys.
I moved on to the Oxford Bookshop, where I bought the Edward Luce book (hardback)for less than a fiver. Final stop, a fabric shop, where I bought three metres of silk, also for less than a fiver. (Sadly I dont have time to get a tailor to make it up into a long shirt for me.)
Now I'm going to my horrible room for a good read. I'm feeling better, but still queasy, and am just marking time till I set off for the airport tomorrow morning. A pity, as I think other areas of Mumbai deserve to be explored, but only if you have lots of stamina.
So - - this is probably my last entry from India. Thanks to all who have written - and congrats for sticking with my verbose blog to the end. I look forward to seeing if any of the photos are worth adding to these words (sadly none of Varkala).
Goodbye
Frances
Mumbai - Bombay. BIG city!
My flight was with one of the India Ryanair type companies, Kingfisher, but it was ten times better. It took off more or less on time, we were presented with a zip-up plastic bag which as well as earphones for the video entertainment screen, had a couple of sweets to suck during takeoff and a rather nice biro. My veg meal was also pretty good. All this for less than 35 quid for 850km.
I was rather dreading Mumbai airport as guidebooks and fellow travellers have warned me of the touts. I ignored all offers of taxis and almost by accident discovered the pre-payment taxi queue. Mumbai actually seems to operate with taxis which have meters and printout sheets telling you waht the rate is!
The drive into Mumbai was pretty impressive. It was by now night, and I got the impression of a huge city with high rise blocks and neon lights everywhere, and fast moving often five-lane traffic. Well, it would be five lanes if people stuck to the lanes...
I was booked into a hotel called Volga II. We eventually found the road, thanks to my Lonely Planet map. I have since discovered that Mumbai taxi drivers rarely speak English and I get the feeling that they have not taken the equivalent of the London black cab city knowledge test.
As soon as I stepped out of the taxi, I was approached by touts egging me to come to Hotel Volga. No, no, I said, I already have a reservation in Hotel Volga II. Whereupon a smoother guy appeared and said he was the manager of Hotel Volga II, produced a crd for the hotel, and said they were the same group. It was ten in the evening, so I gave in.
Perhaps I should have insisted. The 'hotel' is up three flights of an extremely dirty staircase, my room is at the end of a manky corridor, with a washroom and staff kitchen immediately outside, and the room itself is one of the dingiest I have stayed in. The sheet (singular - lots of cheaper places only offer a bottom sheet) looks clean, but the rubbish basket has not been emptied, the floor of the shower room looks dodgy (I have emptied my Dettol bottle on it) and the shower drain is blocked. I'm going to avoid too much washing till London!
Not a bad night, once the guys in the corridor outside went to bed around midnight. This morning it was raining! Apart from a couple of drops in my first week, this is the first real rain on this trip, and even this stopped after an hour, but it left Mumbai grey and muggy for the morning (it has cleared up this afternoon).
I'm in Colaba, the most famous touristy area of Mumbai, less than 400 metres from the Gateway of India (through which the British troops left India for the last time at Independence) and decided to do a walking tour of this area.
First impressions: Mumbai is dirty. The streets are dirty, even in front of the posh upmarket hotel Taj Mahal, which overlooks the Gateway of India, and the sea is visibly polluted. The grey weather did not help, but I was a little disappointed by my walk: Mumbai's grandiose buildings turn out to be a rather drab grey or yellow brick colour. Why was I expecting red, as in Rajasthan?
I was rather dreading Mumbai airport as guidebooks and fellow travellers have warned me of the touts. I ignored all offers of taxis and almost by accident discovered the pre-payment taxi queue. Mumbai actually seems to operate with taxis which have meters and printout sheets telling you waht the rate is!
The drive into Mumbai was pretty impressive. It was by now night, and I got the impression of a huge city with high rise blocks and neon lights everywhere, and fast moving often five-lane traffic. Well, it would be five lanes if people stuck to the lanes...
I was booked into a hotel called Volga II. We eventually found the road, thanks to my Lonely Planet map. I have since discovered that Mumbai taxi drivers rarely speak English and I get the feeling that they have not taken the equivalent of the London black cab city knowledge test.
As soon as I stepped out of the taxi, I was approached by touts egging me to come to Hotel Volga. No, no, I said, I already have a reservation in Hotel Volga II. Whereupon a smoother guy appeared and said he was the manager of Hotel Volga II, produced a crd for the hotel, and said they were the same group. It was ten in the evening, so I gave in.
Perhaps I should have insisted. The 'hotel' is up three flights of an extremely dirty staircase, my room is at the end of a manky corridor, with a washroom and staff kitchen immediately outside, and the room itself is one of the dingiest I have stayed in. The sheet (singular - lots of cheaper places only offer a bottom sheet) looks clean, but the rubbish basket has not been emptied, the floor of the shower room looks dodgy (I have emptied my Dettol bottle on it) and the shower drain is blocked. I'm going to avoid too much washing till London!
Not a bad night, once the guys in the corridor outside went to bed around midnight. This morning it was raining! Apart from a couple of drops in my first week, this is the first real rain on this trip, and even this stopped after an hour, but it left Mumbai grey and muggy for the morning (it has cleared up this afternoon).
I'm in Colaba, the most famous touristy area of Mumbai, less than 400 metres from the Gateway of India (through which the British troops left India for the last time at Independence) and decided to do a walking tour of this area.
First impressions: Mumbai is dirty. The streets are dirty, even in front of the posh upmarket hotel Taj Mahal, which overlooks the Gateway of India, and the sea is visibly polluted. The grey weather did not help, but I was a little disappointed by my walk: Mumbai's grandiose buildings turn out to be a rather drab grey or yellow brick colour. Why was I expecting red, as in Rajasthan?
Sunday 11 February 2007
-- or perhaps not
Booking a hotel in Mumbai proved a nightmare last night. I tried over a dozen, including several visits to the Indian equivalent to directory enquiries where hotels had changed numbers, and eventually found somewhere in a fairly grotty hotel (according to Lonely Planet) with shared bathroom. (Pity I lightened my load by throwing out my flip flops, brought for just such occasions.) So much for my plan to finish the trip in style in Mumbai. Perhaps it's just as well, as I shelled out 1845 (over 20 quid) for Hotel Vellora. Still, at least I had two hot showers for my money.
Of more concern is my continuing health problem: I'm beginning to be concerned about possible kidney/high blood pressure problems and have emailed Chris to ask our doctor if I should try and see a doctor in my last hours in Mumbai.
My continuing fatigue means I'm spending another morning doing very little, in preparation for the afternoon flight to Mumbai. It all seems horribly familiar given that I spent my last two days in India last time being ill in Delhi.
One good thing is that the hotel slid a Sunday newspaper under my door at 6.30 - 'The Asian Age'. It includes lots of syndicated articles, in particular from the Spectator and New York Times, for example, Allan Massie writing on the genre of crime novels, and a good review of a book on India by Edward Luce 'In spite of the Gods' which I will look out for.
One little snippet, which encapsulates this multi-lingual, multi-religious country: when Sonia Gandhi (Catholic) made way to Manmohan Singh (Sikh), he was sworn in as Prime Minister by President Tabdul Kalan (Moslem) in a country where 81% of the country is Hindu.
It is also sad that I have missed the Mysore trip. Still, I'm not feeling too down at the moment, despite this sad blog entry.
Airport
Well, here I am marking time at the airport. There are only two terminals, but at 50 rupees, just over 50p, for an hour, this is very reasonable. The computers are in a corner of a cafe and once again I am struck by what a sweet tooth Indians have! It makes me feel good that I am not the only one. As in the icecream parlour yesterday, they are tucking into pastries, icecream and cakes. Indeed everywhere one goes there are stalls selling food and it is not unusual to see families sitting down on railway platforms, tucking into a meal. I have seen one or two overweight young people and I wonder if this will afflict more of the middle classes.
Feeling OK at the moment.
Of more concern is my continuing health problem: I'm beginning to be concerned about possible kidney/high blood pressure problems and have emailed Chris to ask our doctor if I should try and see a doctor in my last hours in Mumbai.
My continuing fatigue means I'm spending another morning doing very little, in preparation for the afternoon flight to Mumbai. It all seems horribly familiar given that I spent my last two days in India last time being ill in Delhi.
One good thing is that the hotel slid a Sunday newspaper under my door at 6.30 - 'The Asian Age'. It includes lots of syndicated articles, in particular from the Spectator and New York Times, for example, Allan Massie writing on the genre of crime novels, and a good review of a book on India by Edward Luce 'In spite of the Gods' which I will look out for.
One little snippet, which encapsulates this multi-lingual, multi-religious country: when Sonia Gandhi (Catholic) made way to Manmohan Singh (Sikh), he was sworn in as Prime Minister by President Tabdul Kalan (Moslem) in a country where 81% of the country is Hindu.
It is also sad that I have missed the Mysore trip. Still, I'm not feeling too down at the moment, despite this sad blog entry.
Airport
Well, here I am marking time at the airport. There are only two terminals, but at 50 rupees, just over 50p, for an hour, this is very reasonable. The computers are in a corner of a cafe and once again I am struck by what a sweet tooth Indians have! It makes me feel good that I am not the only one. As in the icecream parlour yesterday, they are tucking into pastries, icecream and cakes. Indeed everywhere one goes there are stalls selling food and it is not unusual to see families sitting down on railway platforms, tucking into a meal. I have seen one or two overweight young people and I wonder if this will afflict more of the middle classes.
Feeling OK at the moment.
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