Day 144: Mumbai – day of tragedy

We had one day to spend in Mumbai before our flight to Paris. Everything went well – we visited several places and even squeezed in souvenir shopping for our friends in Switzerland. Originally we arranged a taxi service to the airport at 3am on November 27th. At around midnight, our hotel owner knocked on our door with a concerned look, telling us that there had been some terrorist attacks and hostage taking at the Taj Hotel, which is about 1km from where we were.

Since some roads were closed and the police was checking every car going out of Mumbai, the taxi driver would pick us up at 1am in anticipation of delays. We finished packing our bags in 10 minutes, and were looking out the window from our room, which had a view of the Taj Hotel. We could hear the police sirens going off. Several locals were awake and talking on the street below us. At around 12:50am, we heard a very loud bang, like a bomb going off, from the direction of the Taj Hotel.

view from our hotel room (Hotel Lawrence) - Taj Hotel is about 90 degrees to the left

On our way to the airport, the driver took us on the short cuts to avoid the main streets. Still we went through three police road blocks. On our very first road block, the road was completely shut down. Our driver, all gray hair in his late 50's, managed to follow an ambulance in the opposite lane and got us through the road block. While passing through, I saw a car with bullet holes and white chalk lines on the ground. "Two expired. Terrorists." he calmly said without much expression. We arrived at the airport at 2:30am.

road block where two terrorists were gunned down

At the airport, the atmosphere was really tense. There were a lot of travellers and police officers. Only after all the security checks and we were at the boarding gate, we were a bit relieved. Most people, including us, were watching the live TV news feed. The video of the burning Taj Hotel and the images of the injured or the dead were still shocking. Then we knew how serious things had got. The chief of the anti-terror squad had been gunned down. More than 80 people dead. It was hard to believe such tragic event was taking place outside the airport as we were waiting for our flight.

at Mumbai international airport

Now we have landed safely in Paris. It is still unsettling to watch the French TV news coverage about the hostage situation in Mumbai. Having now learned more facts about the terrorist attack, we know how fortunate we were. Earlier in the day of the attack, we were at Victoria Terminus (having just arrived from Goa). In the afternoon, we had a drink at Leopold Cafe and were inside the Taj Hotel. In the evening, we went to Gateway of India for an after-dinner stroll around 9pm. All these places were targeted by the terrorists. The last place was particularly unsettling because apparently the terrorists arrived at Gateway of Inida by a rubber boat at 9pm and launched their attacks. It was around the same time we were there.

Gateway of India

snapshots of the Taj Hotel before the attack

place where we had dinner - about 5 min walk to Gateway of India

Day 142: Agonda – the idyllic village

After three days at Benaulim, we moved further south to Agonda. It took us three bus connections to get to Agonda. All local non-AC buses and very crowded. God, we were so glad when we arrived at Agonda, and ended up spending one week here.

St. Anne's church in Agonda

sunset on Agonda beach

Agonda is a small idyllic village. A simple one-street affair with a stretch of white-sand beach. The local “fish market” consisted of four women with four baskets near the the bus stop. The place where we had most of our meals was a small grocery store. They dished up decent vegetarian and fish thalis. Cows would walk past us when we enjoyed our meals. We tried a few of the more touristy restaurants, but none of them really impressed us.

lunch at the grocery store - it's the last store at the corner, not the middle one

letting cows pass - a daily routine at Agonda

We took the most expensive room at Sweezel Guesthouse (only US$10). We had a private balcony with a view of the Arabia ocean and a large open-air patio space where in the night we would either count the shooting stars or watch movies on our laptop. When we asked for a coconut, the owner would climb up the coconut tree and cut one down. He would wait till we finish the juice and cut out the coconut flesh for us to eat. Nothing can be fresher. And it cost US$0.20.

Sweezel Guesthouse

owner climbing the coconut tree

One of our favorite spot at Agonda was the southern-end of the beach. The water was calm. There was shade under the coconut trees. Local kids would play in the water in the afternoon. Fishermen would prepare the nets for the next day's fishing. Just lying there on the beach and reading Hemingway and Mark Twain. Sigh, God knows how long this can last before mass tourism sets in.

fisherman at the south end of the beach

local kids playing in the water
katy playing with crabs

hole made by crabs - doesn't it look like a coconut tree?

katy had a taste of the Indian sour pickles - very sour indeed

Day 136: Benaulim – a surprise detour

Originally we were going to Agonda, a small fishing village on the coast of Goa. On our sleeper train to Margao (Goa), we met a local (an architect for Levi's) who were going to Benaulim. He knew a good place to stay, right on the beach and quiet. So we changed our plan and went to Benaulim first. When we arrived at the guest house, it was full. For the next two hours, we went searching for a place to rest our tired bodies at 6am. All the places on the beach were either disgusting or charged extortianate amount. Some of them looked more like a refuge camp, rather than a beach resort. Eventually we found a nice one (Lloyd's). It's not on the beach, but within walking distance.

the beach at Benaulim

The beach at Benaulim was not bad, but having spent one month in Bali there is just no comparison. So it's not surprising that we did not go into the water during our three-day stay. We had dinner at two of those bamboo shacks on the beach. They were the most expensive so far – easily double our normal dinner bill. I guess someone had to pay for the ocean view, the white sand and the starry night. Sigh, we miss the food at Manju in Hampi.

a stray dog taking a dip in the Arabian ocean

ever seen cows on the beach? next to bikini girls?

ice cream vendors

We rented a scooter to visit Chandor and Margao. In Chandor, there is an old mansion owned by the Braganza family who used to own lots of crop lands in the colonial days. In 1962, land reform came into effect in India, and they lost their fortune overnight. The tour of the old mansion was interesting – lots of porcelain and vases from China, but a bit rushed. As soon as we paid the “donation”, we were shown the door. No time to admire at the house. Compared to Benaulim, Margao is a big city and naturally has big city problems. Bad traffic. Polluted air. We did not linger around too long. Some of the streets and buildings of Margao reminded us of Melaka in Malaysia. It's not surprising since both were colonized by Portugese in the past.

a building in Margao that looks like something from Melaka

Before we left Benaulim, I got a haircut. My last haircut was in Penang, Malaysia. This time I broke that record again. At Rs 50 (US$1), it was the cheapest haircut I ever got. Since the barber did not speak much English, I told him to “just make it short”. Well, it was short all right, but I liked it. Afterwards, he asked me if I wanted a head massage. “Sure,” I said. There was a lot of oil and head slapping and pounding. Just when I thought it was over, he took out this home-made looking contraption – almost like a sanding machine – and put it on my head. God, it was a strange feeling, but good. The “sanding machine” was followed by more pounding and kneading on my shoulder and back. Whew, I was relieved when it was over. So there you go, my first Indian haircut and head massage.

the Indian head massge

the box for the massager - it's not home-made at all

Day 132: Hampi – we love it here!

Hampi is a very special place. It is full of historical ruins. Some are so grand and beautiful. We spent three days touring the historical ruins, but we have not even discovered half of them yet. There were many tourists, but it did not feel over-developed.

snapshots of the ruins

local river transportation

On our first night, we stayed at Hema. It was clean, but nothing special about it. The food was average, but expensive . Then we stumbled upon a guesthouse called Manju (meaning either “steam bun” in Japanese or one of Shiva's 108 names in Hindu). We really enjoyed our stay. The mud house was basic and clean. According to the owner, it was the original style used by the locals in the old days. At Rs 100, Manju was ¼ the cost of Hema. In addition, the three Nepalese brothers cooked great Indian food. We tried every type of curry on the menu.

the mud house at Manju

One day we found a female dog with five puppies next to our mud house. The mother, Xiao Huang as we nicknamed it, looked starving. We could not believe the speed she devoured the leftover of our dinner. From then on we would purposely leave extra leftover for Xiao Huang three times a day. On the day of our departure, it's as if Xiao Huang could sense that we were leaving for good. She followed us all the way through the rice field. This had never happened before. Along the way, we kept shouting at her to get back to her puppies because the rice field belonged to a male dog. But she just kept following us all the way to the main road. Very touching.

Xiao Huang following us through the rice field

Xiao Huang's puppies

There were so many stray dogs in Hampi. While touring the temple, we saw a very thin puppy – so thin that its rib cage was showing. The next day we brought some curry rice for it. We whistled for the puppy, and seven of them showed up! The puppies were too small to eat the rice, so we bought a bag of milk. On our departure day, we bought four bags of milk. The mother wouldn't drink the milk. Just lying there watching the puppies. When they were done (all bloated), the mother then came and drank the rest of the milk. :(

the mother with seven puppies

Day 127: Mysore – the palace from a fairy tale

We came to Mysore to visit the Maharaja's Palace. Every Sunday night from 7pm to 8pm, 96,000 light bulbs illuminate the exterior of the Palace. It was fantastic as if we were back at Disneysea in Tokyo. There was a music band playing in front of the palace. Best of all, it was free. The five hour bumpy bus ride from Ooty was well worth it. At the entrance, there was a queue through a metal detector. After we passed it, we realized that the metal detector was not powered up at all, i.e. no sound and no LED, and I was carrying two cameras and one laptop. :) Makes you wonder why the police made everyone go through the metal detector.

the palace all lit up at night

The next morning we visited the interior of the palace. When entering the palace, we were told that cameras were not allowed inside the palace. The security guard told us that for a small fee (Rs 10) he could turn a blind eye. Later when strolling around the palace, another security guard told us that there was a special VIP entrance to the chamber of the maharaja family. It was not open to the public, but with a moderate fee (Rs 100) he could let us in for a peek. :) We did not take the deal. Too fishy. The interior of the palace was very grand. The stained glass on the ceiling with peacock figures in the main ballroom was spectacular. The doors and wood carvings were made of solid tik wood. Too bad no photos were allowed inside.

the palace during the day

One funny story outside the palace. Before we left our hotel to the palace, we read an article in The Hindu about the new ambulance service in Mysore. Prior to this, there were no ambulance service in Mysore, a city with one million population. Katy and I came up with various scenarios on how the locals would get to the hospitals for emergency without ambulance. Anyway, we were waiting in line for the palace to open. Then I saw one of the new ambulances - just like the photo in the paper - driving by. I quickly ran towards it to take a snapshot. The passenger next to the driver saw me and stopped the ambulance. We chatted a bit, and I told him about the article in the paper, which they were pleased about. So they invited us inside the ambulance and gave us a private tour. Of course, that naturally attracted a crowd in India. People were volunteering to be the "victim" for the stretcher and the defibrillator demonstration.

Katy getting a private demo inside the ambulance

look at this guy putting on his sunglasses for the stretcher demo

the newspaper article about the new ambulance service

the flower vendor on the street

from the spice market