Four days in, and it's probably time I started putting pen to paper, or finger to keyboard. This blog is a way for me to record what I did during this sabbatical - a reference guide, a memory jog, and somewhere where others can see what I've been up to (hi mum!).
I'm not intending it to be anything other than a fairly simple, bullet-pointed way of recording stuff. If that sounds boring, well you know where the close button is. I have such a poor memory that I need to record what I did, or I'll have forgotten half of it by the time I head home.
So, first stop: Mumbai. A sprawling mass of slums, bustling street trade, high-rise megastructures and home to 19 million people. It felt huge!
My hotel was a pleasant colonial-era (1930s/40s?) building in the Fort area downtown. Friendly faces on reception, in the taxis, in the restaurants made me feel welcomed straight away.
I suppose it helps that I come from London - a busy city isn't as big a shock to the system as it may be for others. Who knows.
I only had approx 36 hours in the city, and used that for general wandering around the Colaba area (home to the Gateway of India, which I was a bit underwhelmed by) and the Coloba Causeway - Mumbai's answer to Oxford Street - where I picked up a new pair of combats to replace my scruffy ones I bought over from England.
My full day (Jan 3rd) in Mumbai was spent on a long walk along Marine Drive, a fantastic promenade by the Arabian sea, flanked by some swish hotels and home to all sorts of Mumbai life - boys fishing and kite flying, businessmen on their way to work, (Indian) tourists taking a stroll.
The heat was incredible, but a brief stop in the shade of a tree every few hundred yards kept me sane. I eventually ended up at a small (polluted) beach and from there a short walk took me to the Mahatma Gandhi museum.
Housed in an attractive building where Gandhi spent 10-15 years of his life, the museum was a fascinating introduction to his life.
Being the uneducated simpleton that I am, most things I saw and read were new to me and it soon became clear why he is revered so much in this country. As a Brit, I also felt slightly embarrassed by our actions early last century.
Anyway, history lesson over and I walked back down Marine Drive as the sun was setting and the after-work crowds hit the seafront.
The breeze was cool, perfect. I even managed to take in a few overs of a cricket match between the local police force and another team. It was an idyllic setting.
Trains rumbled by the far side of the small stadium, palm trees wafted in the wind above me and the sound of the sea was behind. Indians are obviously obsessed with cricket, so it was fun to sit in among them on a wall overlooking the pitch and hear their tuts, sighs and applause as the game unfolded.
My second - and last - night was spent having dinner in a proper backstreet Indian restaurant (as opposed to the tourist meccas such as the Leopold Cafe in Coloba).
I was treated amazingly by the staff, who seemed surprised to see a foreigner coming through the door. An egg-white covered chicken kebab, with rice and naan, was delicate enough for my delicate stomach. I'll be more adventurous in a few weeks, I hope!
After a fitful sleep, I got up at 4am to go to the majestic CST train station and catch my train south to Goa. As on the flight over to India, I seemed to have drawn the short straw in my seat position, nestled between babies, toddlers and overbearing men chatting loudly on their phones interminably.
Luckily I was so shattered that I managed to sleep for a few of the 9 hours we trundled south.
On the final stretch heading towards Madgaon, a small boy came and sat next to me and started chatting in perfect English, full of questions about the EPL (English Premier League as they call it), London, my travels, my height (the first time I've ever been called tall!) and other things. A fun end to a lengthy journey.
I then went from Madgaon to Canacona standing on a bus. I'll probably mention road travel a few times during the course of this trip, but as an introduction to Indian driving it wasn't too bad.
In situations where the driver seems to have an inbuilt device to tell him that no other vehicle is coming round that blind bend, just as we're approaching, you have to trust that he does!
From Canacona it was a short rickshaw ride to Palolem beach. Now Palolem is slagged off by some for being too touristy, too many hawkers/touts, not authentic, overpriced, etc. And that's probably about right.
But if you go there knowing this, but also knowing that an almost-perfect crescent of a bay is there on your doorstep, and amazing seafood, walks, and temperatures are also in the equation - then the touts and sunburnt beerboys you can deal with.
And besides, I've come just after the peak Christmas season so the crowds have thinned.
I bartered down the price of a beach hut - to a still overpriced cost of 20 quid a night - and settled in with another mild curry, a Kingfisher and a headache.
One long, long sleep later and here I am on day two - feeling refreshed, feeling better and planning the next few days.
The first few days of my trip have been slightly overshadowed by a niggling sore throat and a lack of sleep but now I feel like I've properly arrived, on the go, and ready for the next six months.
I just need to find somewhere showing the Everton v Spurs game at 2am tomorrow morning and I'll be sorted.
I am taking photos, but forgot my camera and USN stick thingy on this walk over to Patnem beach, so will upload another time.
I'm not intending it to be anything other than a fairly simple, bullet-pointed way of recording stuff. If that sounds boring, well you know where the close button is. I have such a poor memory that I need to record what I did, or I'll have forgotten half of it by the time I head home.
So, first stop: Mumbai. A sprawling mass of slums, bustling street trade, high-rise megastructures and home to 19 million people. It felt huge!
My hotel was a pleasant colonial-era (1930s/40s?) building in the Fort area downtown. Friendly faces on reception, in the taxis, in the restaurants made me feel welcomed straight away.
I suppose it helps that I come from London - a busy city isn't as big a shock to the system as it may be for others. Who knows.
I only had approx 36 hours in the city, and used that for general wandering around the Colaba area (home to the Gateway of India, which I was a bit underwhelmed by) and the Coloba Causeway - Mumbai's answer to Oxford Street - where I picked up a new pair of combats to replace my scruffy ones I bought over from England.
My full day (Jan 3rd) in Mumbai was spent on a long walk along Marine Drive, a fantastic promenade by the Arabian sea, flanked by some swish hotels and home to all sorts of Mumbai life - boys fishing and kite flying, businessmen on their way to work, (Indian) tourists taking a stroll.
The heat was incredible, but a brief stop in the shade of a tree every few hundred yards kept me sane. I eventually ended up at a small (polluted) beach and from there a short walk took me to the Mahatma Gandhi museum.
Housed in an attractive building where Gandhi spent 10-15 years of his life, the museum was a fascinating introduction to his life.
Being the uneducated simpleton that I am, most things I saw and read were new to me and it soon became clear why he is revered so much in this country. As a Brit, I also felt slightly embarrassed by our actions early last century.
Anyway, history lesson over and I walked back down Marine Drive as the sun was setting and the after-work crowds hit the seafront.
The breeze was cool, perfect. I even managed to take in a few overs of a cricket match between the local police force and another team. It was an idyllic setting.
Trains rumbled by the far side of the small stadium, palm trees wafted in the wind above me and the sound of the sea was behind. Indians are obviously obsessed with cricket, so it was fun to sit in among them on a wall overlooking the pitch and hear their tuts, sighs and applause as the game unfolded.
My second - and last - night was spent having dinner in a proper backstreet Indian restaurant (as opposed to the tourist meccas such as the Leopold Cafe in Coloba).
I was treated amazingly by the staff, who seemed surprised to see a foreigner coming through the door. An egg-white covered chicken kebab, with rice and naan, was delicate enough for my delicate stomach. I'll be more adventurous in a few weeks, I hope!
After a fitful sleep, I got up at 4am to go to the majestic CST train station and catch my train south to Goa. As on the flight over to India, I seemed to have drawn the short straw in my seat position, nestled between babies, toddlers and overbearing men chatting loudly on their phones interminably.
Luckily I was so shattered that I managed to sleep for a few of the 9 hours we trundled south.
On the final stretch heading towards Madgaon, a small boy came and sat next to me and started chatting in perfect English, full of questions about the EPL (English Premier League as they call it), London, my travels, my height (the first time I've ever been called tall!) and other things. A fun end to a lengthy journey.
I then went from Madgaon to Canacona standing on a bus. I'll probably mention road travel a few times during the course of this trip, but as an introduction to Indian driving it wasn't too bad.
In situations where the driver seems to have an inbuilt device to tell him that no other vehicle is coming round that blind bend, just as we're approaching, you have to trust that he does!
From Canacona it was a short rickshaw ride to Palolem beach. Now Palolem is slagged off by some for being too touristy, too many hawkers/touts, not authentic, overpriced, etc. And that's probably about right.
But if you go there knowing this, but also knowing that an almost-perfect crescent of a bay is there on your doorstep, and amazing seafood, walks, and temperatures are also in the equation - then the touts and sunburnt beerboys you can deal with.
And besides, I've come just after the peak Christmas season so the crowds have thinned.
I bartered down the price of a beach hut - to a still overpriced cost of 20 quid a night - and settled in with another mild curry, a Kingfisher and a headache.
One long, long sleep later and here I am on day two - feeling refreshed, feeling better and planning the next few days.
The first few days of my trip have been slightly overshadowed by a niggling sore throat and a lack of sleep but now I feel like I've properly arrived, on the go, and ready for the next six months.
I just need to find somewhere showing the Everton v Spurs game at 2am tomorrow morning and I'll be sorted.
I am taking photos, but forgot my camera and USN stick thingy on this walk over to Patnem beach, so will upload another time.