home again, home again

Well. I got home just in time apparently, Lufthansa pilots just went on strike today and they have cancelled most of their international flights.

It is 4am on Monday morning, I woke up at 1am and looked at my pictures. They pretty much suck but I will post them soon. I will try to steal some of Judy's excellent pictures so that there will be at least one or two nice ones in there.

OK, my trip home. Suresh arrived at the hotel as planned. He brought the extra suitcase with Judy's stuff. We didn't deal with the packing right away though because the restaurant was about to close so we went for dinner first. My last Indian meal and we got some sort of Manchurian mushrooms. Not exactly what I was hoping for but it was good. Then we went back up to the room to pack the last of my stuff into Judy's bag. Now remember, I had already packed my big backpack, I had bought a small carry on on the car trip where I had stowed some souvenirs and western clothes that I wasn't using. Plus I had bought a bunch of stuff from FabIndia that day which needed to go into the Judy bag. Judy had called while she was packing to leave 10 days before and asked if I could bring some of her stuff home because she was over limit on the allowable bag weight. She would send a half filled bag and I could use the rest of the space for my stuff. No problem.

We open Judy's bag. It was full! FULL! There is no way I was going to be able to fit my new purchases into MY existing bags. I had hoped to put in my new purchases and maybe even empty the small carry on bag I had already filled. Um, no. So Suresh, always awesome, says we can do this. We take a few things out of the Judy bag, which was tightly packed, and moved them to my carry on, which I would have said had no more room but apparently it did. Then we attempt to cram my FabIndia purchases, mostly fabric based, so fortunately flexible into the Judy bag. Suresh just kept piling it onto the already stuffed bag. Then he tries to do up the zipper. He had to actually (or actuala as Suresh would pronounce it) sit on the bag to make it close. It was like a bad sitcom. We were laughing pretty hard by this point. But there was still more stuff left to pack. So we opened my full backpack and crammed that to over capacity too. There was so much stuff.

Closing the very overloaded bag.

I don't think this is going to work.

Suresh to the rescue, sitting on the bag to get it to close. I can't believe it didn't explode mid-flight.


** post script. I spoke to Judy today (it is now 2:30 on Monday) and she told Suresh to buy a new bigger bag but alas he did not. So let's blame Suresh for the bag issue. this is especially good since he isn't here to defend himself!! haha.

When I went to check in, I put the two checked bags on the scale. Then the woman asked me to add the carry on bag. I put it on. She looked at me. I knew I was over. I looked at her. She knew I knew I was over. I smiled guiltily and handed her the Lufthansa form for air miles that I had filled out. She let me go through without penalty. I don't even want to think about what each extra Kilo might have cost, especially since I had to check those bags in Bangalore, Toronto and Vancouver. The only airport where I didn't have to deal with all of my bags was Frankfurt.

Me and all my bags at Coffee day at the airport.

But once I was through the check in, the first flight was fine. I mostly slept. Then in Frankfurt, my layover was so short, I literally got off my plane, crossed the airport and walked right up to the end of the line boarding the next plane. That flight was also good. As much as I dislike Air Canada, they do treat their international passengers decently. I had movies in the back of the seat, and since it was a day flight, I tried to stay awake so I watched four movies. A Serious Man, All about Steve, and two others that I may remember eventually. They fed us and gave us blankets and pillows. Even free booze.

But that couldn't last forever, I guess. When we landed in Toronto, I hadn't realized that A. I would to deal with Customs there and not in Vancouver, and B. that I had a five hour lay over. If I had known these two things I might have tried to convince Brian and Jennifer to come and meet me for lunch. But alas, there I sat. I couldn't walk around because that stupid carry on bag was by now 800 pounds. How I came to loathe that carry on bag. At one point I just abandoned it to go to the bathroom but unfortunately, nobody stole it so I had to continue carrying it.

While I was rechecking my bags, one of the security people overheard me telling someone that i was heading to Victoria. She suggested that since I was flying Air Canada to Vancouver and Air Canada to Victoria, I should speak to a ticket agent about seeing if I could get a direct flight. Sounded brilliant. So I found a ticket agent who found a ticket that actually left Toronto a little later but flew directly to Victoria and would get me in two hours earlier. Do it, I said. So he fiddles around for a while but it wouldn't work. It seems that even through I was on Air Canada, I was actually booked as Lufthansa so no changes allowed. No problem. I was still fresh at this point (pre-five hour layover).

But then I got onto the Toronto-Vancouver flight. Now I am domestic. Dreaded domestic Air Canada! I hadn't eaten anything but half a pack of 25cent cookies that I had bought at the train station so many decades ago. I couldn't face carrying the bag to find food, plus I figured that I would be ok because they would feed me on the plane. Not so. They don't feed domestic cattle. I would have had to pay for snacks. By that time, I was so tired I didn't bother to get any food on the plane. But I wanted to sleep and they hadn't put blankets and pillows on each seat. So I asked the stewardess for one. She said that I would have to pay for them. I may have sworn here, I will leave the actual words to your imagination. I said that I had been on Air Canada International for something like 36 hours at that point and they were going to make me pay for a freakin' blanket and pillow!! So she scurried away and found me a blanket in First Class that wasn't being used. But no pillow. I wish I had just bought the blanket/pillow pack since I now felt too guilty to try to get a pillow.

So no pillow, an inadequate blanket and a bulkhead seat under the coldest air vent ever. I wondered if they were actually blowing air from the -50 degree outside air but then I realized that that would mean that it was fresh air and Air Canada would never allow that. Just to continue whining. A bulkhead seat has lots of leg room so it is a coveted spot. However, leg room is not a problem for me. In fact, I like the seat in front as it gives me somewhere to put my feet so that the blood from my lower legs isn't completely cut off by the ill formed seats since my feet don't sit firmly planted on the floor. But no seat in front here. I had to curl myself into a pretzel to get my feet up onto the seat. At one point, one of my feet was actually through to the seat behind me. I'm sure that thrilled that passenger. AND, the video screen on the wall in front was too high so all of the images were sort of black on brown outlines. Not that I had it in me to watch a video but I tried when I realized I wouldn't be sleeping. Anyway, it was an excruciating 5 hours.

We landed in Vancouver. the airport was abuzz with Olympics. There were video scenes everywhere showing various events. I watched speed track skating while waiting for my bags. Canada lost. But there were people from every country all over the place. Groups wearing matching hats and generally exuberant. But alas, by this time, I wasn't able to properly appreciate that atmosphere. In fact, I was a mess.

I found the Air Canada check in and went to ask if there might be an earlier flight. When I booked my Vancouver to Victoria flight, I had two choices, one that left within an hour of my arriving in Van or one that had a four hour layover. At the time, I thought that I would be dealing with Customs in Vancouver, so I felt it was better to leave some time. But I had already cleared Customs in Toronto and my flight had actually arrive 20 minutes early. So I hoped now, I could get onto that earlier flight as opposed to my 11:45 flight. I walked up to the ticket guy and burst into tears. Nice. He probably had to bump someone to do it but he got me a seat on the 10 pm flight. I was so grateful that I think I may have cried again. Poor guy.

I called Paul for an earlier pickup and finally was on my last leg home. The plane loaded late because there was a Canada/Germany curling match on and it didn't end until 9:50 so we all waited for that, since the crew was watching I don't think we were going anywhere too soon anyway. Canada won by the way.

Paul and Chris met me at the airport, took me home, fed me fresh Cinnamon buns (made by Chris so the best ever) and tea. I was in bed by 12:30 and slept like a rock until 9:30 am on Sunday. I hoped that the extreme exhaustion had kicked me into the correct time zone but by 7pm I was already asleep on the couch. I hadn't even unpacked. I spent the day catching up on Lost. Now it is almost 5 am and I have to go to work today. That should be fun.

I was going to finish this up with some last thoughts on India but at the moment, I don't have any thoughts. so maybe later, when I post the pictures.

Some pictures of my purchases from that last day of shopping in Bangalore (and other days too). I took these once I was home (that explains the cat on the rug.)

The paper mache duck I bought because I couldn't find any real ones.

He looks kind of scared to have to represent all Indian ducks. I think he is doing a fine job.

My gorgeous semi-precious stone pendant. I LOVE it.

I bought this from a table at Hampi. It isn't real garnet, I just liked it.

My FabIndia silver necklace.

The singing Om bowl.

The Om bowl. You can see the handiwork.

My new table cloth.

The rug. Nice huh?

Detail of the rug.

Scarves.

Silk scarves.

My favourite India painting. It reminds of these beautiful trees with red orange flowers that grew in the jungle. Our Nagarhole guide called them Flame Trees. No picture of an actual Flame Tree.

The cow drawing that Suresh thought was too expensive at 50 cents Canadian.

Bird Camp!!!! YEAAAAAAAYYYY!!!

While I was in Coffee Day on my birthday, my first full day in Goa, I was reading about what to do in the area when I happened upon a write up on a Backwoods Camp for birding. I called them the same day and had a somewhat garbled conversation with someone. He said I could come on Sunday, someone would pick me up at my hotel at 6:30 am. Yeeee, bird camp!!!!

Sunday 6:30, my drive arrives. The man is also going to be my bird guide. His name is Lovin'. I kid you not (except he spells it Loven - but what fun is that). He also looks alot like Sayid from Lost.

Lovin'

It is a long drive to the camp which it turns out is on the edge of a National Wildlife Preserve (whose name I have elsewhere) in the Western Ghats. Now, I'm sure I don't need to tell you, but the Western Ghats are a birding world hotspot!! Lovin' is not very chatty but he is pretty so that is ok. I asked how many other people we would be picking up and he let me know that I was going to be the only one at the camp. He had actually called me a day before and asked about my schedule but when I told him I was leaving and couldn't go at any other time, he seemed fine with that. But I had no idea I would be getting my own individual guide. We arrived at Camp at about 7:30 and I was shown my cabin. It reminds me of the tent cabins Mom and I stayed at in South Tanzania but it was an actual building. The camp also has tents but since I was the only guest, I got a cabin.

My cabin.

Inside the cabin.

View from the deck of my cabin.

The little cairn out front. It was the only way I could ever find my cabin.

No time to loiter, we had a quick cookie (biscuit) and tea break and then out to find birds. There is a 700 year old temple in the park so that is where we started. Lots of birds sitting along the edges of the clearing. Lovin' is an amazing spotter and identifier. He even knew what page each bird was on in my book so that I could confirm (for my own counting purposes) each species.

The temple.

Spotting birds.

The days at Bird Boot Camp were quite regimented.
6:30 am - Biscuits and tea
7 am - Birding til 9:30 or so
9:30 - Breakfast
10 am - back to birding
12:30 - Lunch and a break
3:30 - Biscuits and tea
4 pm - back out there til 6:30-7
7:30 - dinner

It was awesome! AWESOME!! I loved it. And of course, traipsing through the wood behind a Sayid lookalike - I, of course, had to be Kate (not quite a lookalike unfortunately). That first day, we saw lots of birds and I got lots of mosquito bites.

As I look at my pictures, I see that I only took two bird pictures, one of the Frogmouth and one very blurry Kingfisher. I will spare you the blurry one.

Frogmouth birds. These are a big draw at the camp. They wouldn't turn around.

Jungle adventure.

A giant squirrel.

Crossing a steam on our jungle hike.

Hunting the elusive Green backed kingfisher. we never did see one but we spent hours looking. I couldn't complain because it was such a beautiful spot.

It was blazing hot. At one point, we were in some field or other and Lovin' said it was 99 degrees (what is that in Celsius - a thousand?) Side note, the power seems to have gone out in the internet place but the computers must be on generator). No lights or AC though. I have to mention the wildlife in my cabin. When I first arrived, there were some spiders, kind of like daddy longlegs. They were big but seemed pretty harmless. But I accidentally stepped on one when I first arrived. By lunch, there were more. By bed time, they were massing, I assumed for a vengeance takedown. I had a shower and they really seemed to like moisture so I had lots of company. They were on the bed too, at one point I opened my eyes and one was right there in front of my face, staring at me (well, I couldn't see his eyes but I assume).

The big spider, before the kill off.

The next morning, I mentioned to Lovin' that they were kind of out of control. He told one of the 'boys' to clear them out. I hoped it was with a broom but I didn't ask for specifics. But when I returned to the cabin that evening, there was the familiar perfume of my old friend 'Raid Max', the only thing that kept the cockroaches at bay when I lived in Mexico. No spiders though. But, never fool around with an ecosystem. By nightfall, my room was full of moths. Then the next day, new spiders but these ones were big and hairy and looked like they could jump and bite. Then that night, there was an infestation of dead ants in the bathroom, they had reversed beached themselves into any standing water they could find, the wash bucket, the toilet, any little puddles of water, there they were - drowned. But at least, everyone else stayed off my bed. that's all I ask of my insects.

After two full days of Lovin' attention (haha - Loven is happily married with a baby by the way) new people arrived. It was a group of 11. Actually it was two groups, 6 Swedes and 5 Brits. The Swedes were hard core birders. the Brits were flaky. there was one couple who were not birders, they just thought it sounded relaxing. the other three were a older married couple and a female friend. the husband only wanted to take pictures of the birds, he didn't care about IDing them. But the two ladies were so stereotypical of old British ladies that I think someone should start a murder mystery series about them, two doddering ladies who stumble upon Murder whenever they are out using their binoculars. (Look, Hillary, there is a Jungle Babble. Yes, I see it Joan, but what is that in the background? A Body! and I see a clue next to it!! - as played by Angela Lansbury and Helen Mirren). It is getting bloody hot in here and I still can't see the keyboard. Anyway, I got stuck with the Brits. The non-birding lady kept pointing out the exact same bird every time (red vented bulbul) and I would say, that's a red vented bulbul and she would laugh. She was actually quite funny but no birder potential whatsoever.

My little British birding group. Obviously they have spotted something to the left, probably a Red Vented Bulbul.

That third day was a bit of a washout, I wish I had gone with the Swedes but it sounds like they didn't get much either. Although I was still stacking up the new birds just not the exciting ones. I am such a bird snob. That night, we went nightjar searching. I was the only woman to join the group. It was pitch black out and we had to climb a rocky hill to get to where the Nightjars hang out. The other ladies didn't think this sounded like fun. Wusses. So me and 5 men, all 6 ft or taller, headed up the hill. I only had my wee headlamp that Melissa had given me before the trip to light my way (I left my big one from Lea at home to save space - who would have guessed I would need the extra volts to not stumble and roll down a rocky hilly path). I made it and we found one beautiful Nightjar. I can't remember the species, but it was chestnut coloured and let us walk right up to it. It was just sitting on a rock, peacefully minding it's own business until we got too close and then it took off.

A picture of my nightjar, stolen from the internet.

The next day the Brits and I went on a field trip to Bondla National Park. More birds. Lovin' was going to drive my back to Panjim at the end of the morning and he had set himself a goal of me getting 75 new birds. I got the 75th just before we left the park. By now, he was more talkative and told me all about meeting his Russian wife and how he asked her to marry him after only one month.

I also took the opportunity to ask how it was that I ended up by myself for two days. It seems that his partner, when I first called, couldn't really hear me. When I said had read about the camp in Lonely Planet, he thought I said I wrote for Lonely Planet. No wonder I got special treatment. It worked out for me but I felt bad for Lovin' who gave up his days off to wander the jungle with me. But Lovin' was a nice guy and didn't seem to hate me for the misunderstanding. As we got close to town, he even asked if I had seen a Jacana yet. I said no so he took me on a side trip. He said he felt bad that hadn't seen as many birds on the last day so we stopped by a pond and picked up another 11!! (A rock dove - that completes my list - a Simpson's reference, you thought you were going to get away scott free - not) I gave Lovin' a big tip when he dropped my at the hotel. Paul, you need to come to bird Camp.

For the afternoon, I wandered around town for a while and stopped by my new favourite jewelry store, New Bazaar run by three Kashmiri men. One of whom was single and the other two decided we would be the perfect couple. They invited me to evening tea but I declined - I had blogging to do. I bought some more stuff and went back to the hotel to bed.

The next morning I went back to the bus station to catch a local bus to the train station. It was $21R for the bus as opposed to $600R for a taxi. The bus station I arrived at was two blocks from the train station. By now I had aquired another bag, (I have alot of bags - and I would like to note for the record that I have used all of the bags I brought and then some for all of you bag naysayers. ) But this meant I was lugging alot of stuff, in the hot hot mid day sun.

I made it to the station and had to figure out where my train would be, that wasn't easy, of course, but I made it and eventually the train arrived, miraculously on time.

The Train Station.

The stairs I had to carry my many bags over.

My first attempt at a self portrait, waiting for my train.

Now, I'm sure you all remembe but let me refresh you on Val and my experience on the train in Thailand. We sat and were served tea and dinner. then as darkness fell, the car steward arrived and turned down the beds. He made each one with fresh sheets and blankets and pillows. Then he put up curtains to give a bit of privacy. This is what I was expecting when I got a sleeper ticket for my overnight train back to Bangalore. Not so. It all started out ok, but I immediately realized that the trains in India in reality are not as romantic as they sound. I couldn't get a lower bunk so I had to take an upper bed, which meant travelling backwards the whole way (I think that if you get the crappy bed you should get the good chair, but that is not the way it works, it seems.)

My 'deluxe' seat.

My second and last attempt at a self portrait. Don't I look excited about my seat. As a bonus feature, check out the sweat pouring off me.

Anyway, we went through some mountains and I took some pictures (I haven't been taking that many pictures since Judy left). The scenery made that one hour worth it. Then it got dark.

Views from the train window.






Going into a cave.

Inside the cave, the sign announced that it is handcarved.





After a while a train person stopped by to tell me not to buy any food or drinks from strangers because there would be drugs in it. Not that there might be drugs, there definitely would be drugs. As it turned out, I wished someone had drugged me, at least I could have slept. As the hours passed, I realized that no nice car steward would be showing up to turn down my bed. So I climbed up to my hard, plastic lined bed and tried to sleep.

They looked bad enough before everyone arrived.

That does not look comfortable.

Yup. Nothing more to say.

First there were lights and noise. Then there was snoring. But mostly my problem was that I had a makeshift pillow and I didn't have enough water. But at about 1, I realized I could shove my makeshift pillow into my new bag with my fabindia purchases and make a bigger pillow. And low and behold - smart Morning Joanne had hidden some water in there for dopey Night Joanne to find. So pillow and water issues resolved. I finally fell asleep. Until 2am. that's when the real lower level bed passanger arrived on the scene to find someone else in her bed. Side note: do no piss off a Indian lady - they yell - a lot. so there was lots of yelling and light turning on and who knows what all was going on down there, I didn't dare look over the edge. That went on for way too long and someone official had to be called. More lights and ticket checking I think. Yea, power and fans back on. Anyway, long story slightly shorter. Very little sleep and I missed the stop I wanted to get off at.

I wanted to get off one stop before my actual destination but they didn't make any announcements and I didn't have a window to see where we were. But no worries, I got off at the next one which was only 4 kms further away. Auto rickshaw to Kamat Hotel, the first place I stayed at. Alisma, you will appreciate this. I said I wanted to go to Kamat Hotel (at 5:30 am) and was taken to the Kamat Restaurant. Eventually I remembered and started saying Lodging, Lodging. After alot of asking random men, we found the place and I went to bed.

It is now my last day in India. I have 90 more minutes until Suresh arrives. Did I mention that Judy wasn't able to take all of her stuff back with her so she left some with Suresh for me to take back. However, left alone with a FabIndia only a block from my hotel, I have done some damage today. My comment the other day about Christmas presents made me realize, everyone should get Indian Christmas presents! And I bought myself a rug. A RUG for Jimminy sake! That should take up some space. So, we are finally caught up. My next post will be from Canada. See you on Monday. Joanne

Goa

It is Thursday morning, I am leaving Goa today. I don't have alot of time so here is the start -

After I left Delhi (where I almost missed my plane because I was in the airport FabIndia - shopping bags and pillow cases) I arrived at the only airport in Goa. I had made a reservation for a room (I now possess the amazing phone machine) while I was waiting for my plane (before I discovered FabIndia) at the Mayfair Hotel in Panjini (more commonly known as Panjim - three side notes in one sentence - good job!) which is the main town in Goa. My flight was uneventful (especially considering my new 'situation', luckily I was on the aisle) although I did sit beside a newlywed couple. The husband was from Birmingham and the bride from India. Did I mention that the area around Delhi is absolutely chock-a-block with wedding halls. They are all lit up and fancy. I can only imagine the cost of these weddings. We saw processions with horses, fire works, limos, massive amounts of people. Crazy. My seatmate agreed even though he had just done the same thing.

Once I landed I took a prepaid (long and very expensive) taxi to Panjim. By the time I got to my room it was after 6. I was pretty tired and dehydrated so I just stayed in my room for the evening. There was TV! I watched 'how I met your mother' & 'Bones'. Besides being crazy tired, I was still pretty much ok. The next morning (Thursday) I loaded up with Imodium and headed out to explore the city. It is very lovely and quite small. It reminds me of Mexico. It was founded by Portuguese Christians so the buildings are familiar. I did a bit of shopping. I bought my first pieces of jewelery. Side note - I have bought some gifts but this time I am saving them for Christmas or Birthdays because I always kick myself come December. If I get all excited about my purchases and try to give them to you, don't let me. I bought nice stuff.

Wandering around Panjim.
The Church

The big white Catholic Church in the centre of town.

The steeple.

Inside the church.

The view of the main street from the church steps.

The River

A House Crow at the river.

The river.

Fishing.

The town

This is the main tourist `street`, more like a little alley. The bikes are parked like that everywhere.

Construction sites in India involve a lot of sticks.

A little shopping break from sightseeing.


After a few hours of shopping and intestinal discomfort, I found a Coffee Day because I know what to expect of their bathrooms. While I was sitting there waiting for a menu, I remembered (at 2:30 in the afternoon) that it was my birthday. So I ordered a mocha ice cream and brownie sundae. It was delish.

I was definitely missing Judy by now. I was sick and lonely. Of course, Judy was lucky to get out when the getting out was good. I would not have wanted to be sharing a room with me those few days.

One of my goals for my first day was to find the bus station. The lonely planet said that there was a rail ticket window at the bus station so I could buy my train ticket to Bangalore. It took me all day (of not trying too hard) to find the station. There were a million buses in all directions. Eventually, someone directed me to the first building to find the train window. I see at line up at the first building. I wait a few minutes before I realize that I am in line for the dairy counter. I guess this kiosky building wasn't an actual building. When I found the station, I had to agree, the station was an actual huge building. It was in a circle shape with dozens of little shops and ticket windows. I wandered around for a while (the Lonely Planet said the window was on the first floor). I asked people who would point in the general direction. But in a circular building, this is not helpful. I asked the info window, who pointed. One of the wonders of India is that if you ask one person for directions, eventually another person will find you and tell you where to go. I can only imagine how many people have to participate in the 'telephone game' before one of them is elected to help the foreign girl. It turns out that the rail window was on the second floor, I didn't even realize there was a second floor.

The Bus Station.

I arrive at the bus station.

You can see how well organized it is.

From the second floor.

So I enter the rail ticket room and everyone is holding a yellow ticket. There is a big sign that says ' NO QUEUE - Get a number'. But I cannot for the life of me see where to get a ticket. I ask the person in the room who looks most likely to speak English. She points. There is a window to get a ticket to go to another window. Ok. So I dutifully stand in line while the ticket man chats up two girls. Then some man butts in and gives the man $10R. Apparently, you have to pay for a number. So I buy my number and wait, filling out the incomprehensible form I was given.

Eventually my number is called and then immediately passed over. I, of course, just forced my way in front of the next guy but I mention this because for the rest of my visit, the numbers were all wrong and I kept getting interrupted by people whose number was called too early. When I finally get to talk to someone, it is a women who claims to speak English. Ironically, there is a big sign in her window that says, and I quote, 'Communication Failure'. I don't know why it was there, but it was possibly the most accurate sign I have seen in India. I had tried to fill out the form while I waited but I didn't know what to put. I wrote Goa as my departure point and Bangalore as my destination but I thought I might have to buy one ticket to Mangalore and then another to Bangalore.

So I explain to the ticket lady that I want to go to Bangalore for Feb 19. She ignores me (I assumed but she was actually doing something to do with my ticket - she just didn't bother to speak). Then she gave me back my form and told me I had filled it out wrong. I needed to put a different departure point and arrival point. She told me the names but I could not understand what she was saying. I asked her to repeat, she repeated, I still couldn't understand. That went on for a while. She refused to fill in the names herself (why?) but eventually one of the several people crowded around me (looky-loos, number issues?) told me what to put and spelled it for me. Then she shoved a ticket at me and I was dismissed. But I had questions. No questions allowed, the next number had been called! So I left. But I had a ticket and a sleeper bunk leaving Goa on Feb 18 at 2:30 pm and arriving in Bangalore at 5 am on Feb 19.

The train ticket office. The number giver is on the right.

My ticket seller. Note the prophetic signage in front of her.

It was dark by then so I just headed back to the hotel for my American TV fix. I really didn't feel well and I couldn't face dinner so I bought two packaged yogurts and a small bag of nuts. I think the nuts were a serious error. That was a bad night once the Imodium wore off. I got no sleep. And the nuts - well, I will just leave it with the serious error comment.

The next day, I got up early to take a 'Backwater Thrills' tour. It was a boat up the Mandovi River to a spice plantation for a tour and lunch. I was mostly interested in the boat trip, I figured that there would be lots of birds on the river. What was I thinking, you ask, taking a many hour boat trip in my situation. The Imodium was doing its job, plus by then I was into the prescription stuff. They were at least holding things in check during the day. But I was so tired and dehydrated and hungry that I could barely keep my eyes open. Plus, there were no birds. I got one bird, a woolly necked stork, for the whole day. I fell asleep. then we arrived at the spice farm and had our tour. It wasn't as good as the one from the hotel in little Tibet. then lunch, standard group tour fair, which I could barely eat. I even missed the spice counter where I was at least going to buy some spices for Vivienne. (Sorry Vivienne). Back on the boat where I fell asleep again, this time in the sun. Nice forehead burn.

The river boat montage.

I was told to find the Santa Maria for the River Cruise. So I took this so I would have a picture of the boat I was on. But when we boarded we were led onto the boat and then off again, onto the next boat tied up on the other side. So this will have to do.



A ferry across the river.

There were hundreds of these boats. They collect sand from the bottom of the river by scooping it up in buckets attached to those long poles. You can tell that this boat is full by how low in the water it is.





Watching the boat dock.

Disembarking

A pond.

Egrets on th pond.

A water snake near my lunch table.

Our tour guide, Martin.



These are the rusty big sand boats that the rickety little sand boats empty into.

There were lots of these awful sites along the river. Another cog in the river stripping machine.

New day - Friday 6pm. I am now in Bangalore, killing time until Suresh shows up with my bag at 9 to drive me to the airport. Something is biting my foot! I hope it is an insect.

But back to Panjim. . After the boat returned to town, I just went to the hotel to sleep. I was so hungry and tired. Believe it or not, for all of my travels, I have never had to use Imodium before. Whatever was living in my gut was draining me (haha - in more ways than one! - remember, I share because I care). I was exhausted. And I just couldn't keep up with the food and water. I was starving but I couldn't eat. Not fun.

The next day was Saturday - CARNIVAL!! I think I posted that morning, I was not very coherent, I'm sure. I can't even remember where or what I ate but I managed something. Then I headed to the water for the big Carnival celebration. I got there early and sat on the river wall.

Sitting on the river wall. It was breezy.

I really wasn't too sure if the parade was on the road or on the water. It turns out it was the road. To get to the river wall, I had to scale a bit of barrier because they had blocked the entire sidewalk. I didn't even give this any thought.

Waiting for the parade

When I first arrived, not too many people. If you look closely, you can see the 'barriers' which were just make shift fences but high enough to be difficult to cross.

A Carnival poster.

The ferry arriving, there were so many people arriving.

The crowds starting to mass.

The vendors arrive and set up.

Eventually the street filled up with spectators and the parade started. It was insane. Huge paper mache heads and entire eco-systems recreated on flatbeds. I tried to take pictures but my batteries eventually died and I didn't have backups. Just as well, how many floats does one need.

The parade.











The most incredible thing about the parade (at least for me) was the dancing. There were tons of troupes of young people, men and women, dressed in sateen, doing synchronized dance numbers. 1st, we would never be able to convince that many young men to put on sateen (Purple!!) let alone show it off in front of 1000s of people. 2nd, the dance numbers were pretty elaborate and the parade route was long. But they were still dancing away and smiling to beat the band. The music was overwhelming.

The dancers.









These poor guys didn't even get to wear pants. They were supposed to represent 'farmers'. For some reason, at least in this parade, farmers don't wear pants. There were several instances of pantless farmers. Strange that all of the farmers I saw, out plowing their fields, were wearing pants. They must not have gotten the memo.


This isn't a very good indication of how enthusiastically these kids danced. But it's all I've got.

There were tons of people but the crowds were not too crushing, except up against the barriers. After 3 or so hours of the parade, I realized I might be pushing my luck. I also realized at some point that I was trapped on the wrong side of the road, away from the businesses, restaurants and the path to my hotel. There was a barrier on my side of the road, the other side of the road and people 5 deep against both of them. hmmmm? So I started to walk in one direction to see if I could find the end. Nope. Then I tried the other direction. This led me to the main intersection which was just a madhouse of people. It wasn't an emergency, but I was feeling abit worried, things could turn to emergency in a flash (intestinal emergency, not crowd gone berserk emergency). Eventually I found a weak spot in the barrier and I jumped it. But that left me in the road with the parade. People had started to enter the street and the only path was about as wide as a float so walking along was somewhat perilous. I can just see the headline: Canadian tourist killed in India by giant gorilla head float!! Subsequently trampled by sateen clad dance troupe!! Well, of course, eventually I made it out alive.

The crowds.

The best view going.

The other side of the street.

At least one person made it over (well, under more likely) the barrier, although she got caught by the cop.





Once I was on the safe side, I felt ok to stay a while longer but that parade was just never going to end so by 9 pm, I headed home. I had also noticed some people who were walking by who had been 'holi-ed' . Holi is a festival where they throw colours on you. I wasn't up for that.

I watched these kids when the parade got a bit too much. They seemed very poor and I never saw any evidence of adults with them.