Pune 9 – 14 October & Mumbai
15 October – 18 October
I was catching an early 6am train to Goa and as I as got to the train platform, I realised I had not arranged any snacks for the just-under nine-hour trip. My worries though were short-lived, as unpredictable India once again came to my surprise.
Coming back into India, I flew to
a city called Pune. Pune is not a
particularly notable city on any tourist trail, and I was only there to fulfill one bucket list item – watch a cricket match live in India.
It had worked out just nicely, that the South African cricket team was touring India, while I was doing so too. So I really had no choice, but to make sure I whipped out my flag and make my way to the stadium to ensure our team had the support they needed to triumph against the Indians in their backyard.
It had worked out just nicely, that the South African cricket team was touring India, while I was doing so too. So I really had no choice, but to make sure I whipped out my flag and make my way to the stadium to ensure our team had the support they needed to triumph against the Indians in their backyard.
 |
| Back into India |
Any cricket fan will know though that SA got
thoroughly trounced in this game (and the series), so I will not write much about this. Save to say, it was a
nice stadium, although a 2 hour drive out of the city (4 hours in the car a day
– cannot say I was not committed).
As
the only South African supporter there, the partisan crowd did not need to
translate their Hindi comments to English for me to understand how happy they
were with India being so dominant (I did not help things by purposefully
plonking myself in the middle of the Indian fans, waving and cheering loudly
each time we get a run / did not go out – which were about in equal numbers).
Finally, they do not serve beer at the
stadiums, so I could not even drown my sorrows, and had to endure the painful
torture, sober, and with full memory (obviously how I enjoy all my cricket
matches #whatsinthebread).
 |
| "Queuing" for tickets the only way the Punians know how |
 |
| Proudly flying the flag in Maharashtra Cricket Association Stadium, Pune (worst name for a stadium?) |
That’s pretty much all I saw of
Pune.
The next stop was Mumbai, where I was hosted in a family friend’s house. Oh, I cannot explain the joy and warm fluffy feelings, after more than six months of backpacking, that comes with eating a home-cooked meal, and not sharing a bedroom or bathroom with others. My generous hosts made sure that I was well looked after and fed me and showed me the sights of the city.
The next stop was Mumbai, where I was hosted in a family friend’s house. Oh, I cannot explain the joy and warm fluffy feelings, after more than six months of backpacking, that comes with eating a home-cooked meal, and not sharing a bedroom or bathroom with others. My generous hosts made sure that I was well looked after and fed me and showed me the sights of the city.
Mumbai is a big Indian city, and
like any other, it is dirty, busy and crowded.
To its credit, the food there is the most diverse and some of the best I
have had in India, but after a few days, I was ready to resume my travels,
refreshed, belly full, and a backpack overflowing with fully laundered clothes.
 |
| The famous, crowded trains of Mumbai |
 |
| Gateway of India, Mumbai |
 |
| World's largest outdoor laundry. Dhobi Ghat, Mumbai |
 |
| Dirty, dirty shoreline. Mumbai #incredibleindia |
I was catching an early 6am train to Goa and as I as got to the train platform, I realised I had not arranged any snacks for the just-under nine-hour trip. My worries though were short-lived, as unpredictable India once again came to my surprise.
The train that pulled up to the
station was colourfully decorated – which is uncommon for Indian trains. I did not think much of it. My sense that I was in for a train
journey, different to what I had experienced before here, was heightened though when I
got onto the colourful train and the staff were in colourful Hawaiian shirts, as
opposed to the smart, black and white, formal wear of previous conductors. The seats were bigger than normal and the
cabins a cool temperature because of the air-conditioners pumping through them.
 |
| First flag that this would be a different train experience. Tejas express |
 |
| A uniform that can make anyone smile. Tejas Express |
When I got served a tea and biscuit by my new Hawaiian-clad best friend, I tried to research why I had fallen into such a paradise. Turned out, completely by fluke, I had booked the luxury Tejas Express. It is a normal train that runs from Mumbai to Goa (and was the only one in India, but since two more have launched), but with all the perks I mentioned above, to make passengers’ travels more comfortable. Oh, they also served a delicious breakfast, snack and lunch, so my incompetence and ill-preparedness did not lead to my stomach suffering this time.
The journey, in my new luxury
setting, was made even better as the vegetation outside shifted to more and
more green, and was complimented with a number of waterways, as we entered the Goan state.
 |
| Moving south, into Goa, and greener pastures. Tejas Express |
Unfortunately all good things
must come to an end and as abruptly as I was lifted into luxury, I was shoved
back down to backpacking reality on reaching my destination in the state of Goa. I had to
catch a train and two busses in the pouring rain before arrive to the town of
Anjuna – thoroughly soaked – where I would be looking to find out what all the
fuss about Goa was about. Oh, and I
did not have a place to stay, so I arrived at 7pm that evening, travel weary,
but still energised from my little slice of luck and fancy train journey.
 |
| Back to the normal, overcrowded public buses, Anjuna |
No comments:
Post a Comment