Gokarna

Honestly, this one is particularly long. I'm sorry. The short version is, Diana has been ill and is getting better now, which shortened our stay in Gokarna. We're now at Palolem and plan to stay here for her birthday, and the day after we head to Chennai.

If you're patient enough, read on :)

Even on days where not a lot is planned, it feels like a lot is going on. I'll start by saying that unfortunately Diana has been ill the last few days with what is believed to be sinusitis, so the last few days have not been as enjoyable as they could have been, and Diana is now a walking drug cabinet. More about that further down.

We left Agonda to Canacona train station on the 21st of January. I had heavily researched the train journey due to the last one to goa being a bit of a shambles, and came to the following conclusions:

• There are two trains a day to Gokarna. One of these is at 3 am. We had one shot (one opportunity).
• The train consisted of purely 2S class carriages (second class seated).
• There were over 60 seats available on the train we were getting.
• I couldn't reserve one, because apparently banking with a UK bank isn't particularly useful with 80% of Indian online checkouts, instant rejection as the bank isn't from India. Ta.
• The train is, on average, 44 minutes late. To the point the website actually listed the time we should bother getting to the station.

Owing to past experience, we turned up 30 minutes early to when the train should arrive. An older Swedish couple were at the counter attempting to buy tickets but unable to understand the person's Indian accent. We let her know he was telling her she couldn't have a concession on this train as there was no senior carriage.

A few laughs as she handed over the amount for a full price ticket, 25 rupees each. That's circa 25p, seems more like a quota management system so the train doesn't get overly packed more than an attempt at profit, and makes you wonder why a concession exists in the first place. We buy our tickets and ask how long until the train, roughly an hour and a half (fine, I was expecting that and atleast we can relax) and we end up finding ourselves chatting to the Swedish couple for a while. Without going into too much detail, he barely said a thing as his English wasn't quite as good and everything he did say, his missus corrected him anyway. To sum it up, they had been to India 8 times and had never been out of Europe before, she took photos of strangers tattoos and then showed them to us (other strangers), and they had a hilarious story about a lawn mower that reduced them both almost to tears, yet wouldn't explain what the joke was.

Around now, a train arrives, with the route we're taking on the side. Unfortunately in my research, I forgot to note which direction the train was headed, and as it was around the time the train was due to arrive I grabbed my bags. This prompted almost the entire station to frantically grab their bags. Whilst running for the train, I asked someone where it was headed as it certainly hadn't been an hour and a half. North. Whoops. Panic not everyone, this is just the train expected to arrive 2 and a half hours ago. Everyone puts their bags back down, glares at me (probably, I wasn't looking) and attempts to restore their blood pressure to normal.

We are now informed the train would be in around half 2. Three hours after we got on the platform. And the only option we had. We wait. I made friends with the most timid dog in the world, who I've nicknamed Pepper.

The train arrives. We're in business. We get in the carriage and look for a seat.

Pepper - India edition

Everywhere seemed full, mostly because of people laying on seats instead of sitting. Quick look around and realising the only way to change carriage is to get off the train again, we manage to sit opposite each other, I take the gap between an Indian guy and woman with her two daughters, Diana sat at the edge of the seat where a man was sleeping.

Fortunately our train wasn't from platform 2...

Everything started okay, we had no idea what was going on but it turned into a strange Indian version of the three stooges. The guy sleeping sat up and another man sat at the end. It became clear the guy who was sleeping was an alcoholic or on something atleast, but definitely not completely coherent. The guy who sat down last randomly passed me his glasses. I looked puzzled as I had no idea what he wanted, the guy next to me took the glasses and proceeded to throw them off the train. Panicked, the man got up, to find he had just placed them on the floor. Hilarity and joking followed.

Then shouting in Hindi, no idea what was being said but the woman and her children swapped seats with some other Indian men. More Hindi, the vacant bloke smacked the guy with the glasses around the head. More shouting and the vacant guy puts his sandals on, clouds of dust flying off him, the woman and her daughter's move further away and we take their seats. Someone grabs the vacant guy by the scarf around his neck and drags him towards the train doors away from everyone. More noise, and the guy wanders off further down the carriage. A few more incidents followed but nothing wrong with some random, unexplained drama.

We're now at Gokarna road. So far our whole day has consisted of getting a train. Immediately a tuktuk driver grabs our attention to take us where we need to go.

Or so we thought. See, we booked a place called 'hotel international gokarna'. Looking this up on a map, this is about 10 minutes walk from 'Om Beach', which we were going to see. Great! To Om Beach fair tuktuk driver, on the double!

A fairly uneventful 10 mins pass, when we stop randomly. The driver looks at us and says 'passport, visa' and buggers off. Further ahead, there's a police checkpoint. Fair enough. I grab my bag with my valuables and passport and join the queue with Diana.

About 20 minutes of hanging around and we find out from a very grumpy British person they want to search all our bags, so Diana grabs our bags from the tuktuk whilst I hold the place in line. Another 10 minutes and I'm called in. They took my backpack and practically disassembled it, going through every tiny pocket, looking in folders and books, I assume a drug search of some description? He then proceeds to pat my large rucksack a little, which could have been 20kgs of Columbian marching powder for all he knew as he never so much as opened the top flap. I could go.

Diana's search was slightly easier. She lugged her bags through the door, placed them down, handed over her passport, and was told she could go. Along with every other female. Where's this gender equality, huh?

We're back on the road. Only this time, instead of just asking to go to Om Beach, I mention the hotel name. The driver slams on the brake and begins a u turn. Perhaps he knows a shortcut... We turn back towards the checkpoint but swing a left. I was concerned the police inquisition had all been in vain. Looks like a shortcut after all.

Just as soon as the tuktuk makes it to full speed, it comes to a stop. Now, my orienteering skills aren't perfect, but I knew we were around 2 miles from a beach here. Looked out the side of the tuktuk (I'd say window but that's quite a grandiose term for a hole) and sure enough, the 'hotel international gokarna'. A bit grander of an entrance than our previous hotel at Mumbai, but it'll do. The bathroom had a layer of dust over everything. Okay.

Even the TV was threatening

One thing was certain though, this was not Om beach. This was not a 10 minute walk away. We'd been duped. Or so we thought, until we realised later that there is a 'hotel international gokarna *beach resort*'. God forbid they could name this one 'beach resort international gokarna' or something.

Anyway, we wanted to try and find some accommodation closer to the beach, we were hungry and it was now dark. 'What a perfect time to explore!' we proclaimed, as we grabbed the absolute minimum and proceeded to find a tuktuk to the beach.

The route to the beach is confusing. It starts on a road towards the main town. You get as far as town, and the road bears right. To the left, narrow alleyways for pedestrians. And somehow tuktuks. Honestly, you could only just stand two abreast in this turning, and our driver whom I believe was Lewikesh Hamilton, two time Formula Rickshaw champion, took it, in the pitch black, like it was on tracks. I've never had so much respect and fear at the same time.

Then it's a sheer climb up unpaved roads, potholes, sharp rocks and blind bends we always took a precise racing line for. Thankfully nothing else was on the road, and our journey was completed in a three wheeled cage at around 230mph.

From here, on foot, we travel down approximately 3000 steps by vague torchlight to the beach. At this stage, Diana looked up and, short of the Sahara, saw the most fantastic display of stars we've ever seen. I've never been certain of constellations, seeing as stars are a myth in England, spread by the green party in an attempt to persuade the British public that we should look after the environment and turn off lights and stop murdering things, but I could make some out so clearly it felt, bizarrely, unnatural.

We continue along the beach, which was silent apart from the breaking waves and strange, unfitting rave music playing if you wandered close to a restaurant, and found a place to eat and ask about rooms. The waiter/owner/man was the most timid person I'd spoke to so far, and sounded like he knew what he was saying was correct, yet I was testing his responses. I don't know why.

We asked for prices of rooms. Now, the hotel we were at we were paying ~£5 for the night, which is pretty cheap. This place had a room for £2 a night, all were occupied so we couldn't see it, but we gave him the money for the following night, expecting very little. We ate there (also cheap, but not the greatest food) and returned to the 4000 steps up from the beach, for a downhill trip back to the hotel where I was certain we broke a new land speed record.

The next day we checked out and left our bags at the hotel to check out town. An amazing place if you want to buy typical hippy attire, including but not limited to bongos, out of tune guitars, hemp clothing and hacky sacks, but not a lot else as non Hindus are not allowed to go into the temples. We decided to go get our bags and head to our new luxury suite.

Let me tell you, firstly, both of us have hugely over packed for this trip. We realise this on day 1. It turns out, we really don't need most of the clothing we've brought, but apart from one near weightless top of Diana's, nothing has been disposed of yet. But there is little more exhausting than being in 33 degree sun, with a bag on your back and front, trying to negotiate down 5000 steps and across sand. Our new accommodation was about half the way along the beach, so not even close. And this time once we arrived there, it somehow had formed a damn moat. The sea wasn't anywhere near it, but must have been earlier that morning I guess? Either way, we had to wade our way to the entrance.

Anyway, we checked in. It was all we needed, but it wasn't much. The bed was a rock. Not metaphorically. The bed was a rock. But we had a mosquito net, power (when it didn't cut out), a fan and a wall thin enough to hear everything in the restaurant. The toilet was a shared Indian style toilet (more hygienic Molly..! No touching anything!) and the bathroom was a cupboard with a bucket of water and a jug. 2 quid, ok.

A bed to cause envy in the entire cast of The Flintstones

I'd love to say from here, all we did was chill on the beach watching the waves, but it was not long after this Diana was attacked. Fortunately she is okay now, but as soon as I heard the scream my heart raced and I had to fight off the attacker, who proceeded to just simply stand there, swaying and staring me down. Diana decided she couldn't stay here, went to gather her stuff and we were chased further down the beach. No serious harm was done, nothing was stolen, and I've attached a photo of the culprit below for photo fit purposes, you should be able to see him there.

Son of a... You'd better pray!

We returned to a restaurant to try and regain calm and order for a few hours, before going to sit on a rock to see the sun set and listen to the worst guitarists in the world playing the one chord they know.

For me, the room was fine and I was out like a light, however, Diana didn't sleep at all due to pain in her sinuses and gums. I woke up to her still in pain and she wanted to go to the doctor, so we locked up the room and across the beach, back up all 6000 steps, hopped into a tuktuk, the driver of which became a personal driver for a little while, and got to the doctors surgery. A couple of other people were here, but also waiting for the doctor. We were reliably informed he'd arrive at 10am (This turned out to be an Indian 10am, so around 10:30am).

The doctors surgery was as neat, tidy, clean and dust-free as an old flipflop. I didn't see the actual room Diana went into, but I'm reliably informed that old gloves and needles were strewn around, although boxes of new needles were around also, so I presume just laziness rather than re-use. A short while later, she's back, armed with Amoxycillin, some form of pain killer, and little bomb-shaped lozenges which, when diluted in hot water, smell like Vicks. Not bad for 300 rupees, and it seems to have helped now.

Not quite the luxuries of East Surrey!

Unfortunately, his advice for a speedy recovery included such things as 'stay in a dust free environment'. You saw the room. Hell, finding a dust free environment in India is harder than understanding string theory. Almost. We get our tuktuk back to the beach, ask him to wait whilst we traverse god knows how many stairs it is, get our bags, inform the timid bloke at the counter we had to check out (this time instead of a pond to wade through, it had developed its own moat?), back over the beach keeping a watch out for angry insects who don't want us on their patch, back up the bloody stairs with our over packed bags, into the tuktuk, back to where we started in the first place at the Hotel International Gokarna. The last couple of days have felt a little groundhoggy.

Moat to the restaurant/room

To prevent this, we didn't stay in the same hotel, but went a little further down the road and found another at the same price. Same thing though, maybe slightly cleaner. Managed to get Diana to sleep, and she's feeling better for it.

Today, we have returned to Canacona and onwards to Palolem, where for Diana's benefit we have checked into a proper hotel for a couple of nights (Clean sheets, hot water, soft bed/pillows, WiFi in the room. Luxurious!) to try and help her recover, although I have a feeling the two-for-one cocktails (have I mentioned this before?) could hinder the process. The journey was far less eventful, we arrived at the station, this time simply on time, to be told the train would be 40 minutes late. That all? Sure. To be fair, it wasn't far off, probably around an hour late. Glad we didn't get there earlier this time. We bought our ticket, a couple of cups of tea each (7p each, can't go wrong) and some more water, and proceeded to the platform to wait. Wildly uneventful, apart from a guy on the platform who was about as pretentious as you can physically be to a lady and who we thought was her partner but turned out to be her 'travelling friend'. You all know the sort of guy, it's the one the 'Gap yah' video is based around. Quotes such as:

• 'Yah my friend owns part of a rainforest...'
• 'I volunteered there and they said they didn't need help but UH MUH GUHD they needed help, they had no idea what they were doing'
• 'I brew my own tea cultivated with special bacteria, it has to have organic unrefined sugar but I left it in my room, you cant use normal crappy sugar' *just don't put any bloody sugar in it?*
• 'Whats your star sign? I can work out your rising star sign, its important you know it, you can find out on sites but I can tell you'
• 'I own a vegan gluten free goose that shits golden eggs and can tell you your rising star ... ' 

By this point, I had zoned out and the train was coming, so we wandered up the carriages and never did find out if he was in fact our lord and saviour, but I'm fairly sure he must have been.

Train journey was entirely uneventful, nice and calm, got off at Canacona and a quick tuktuk to Palolem. Checked in, had lunch, looked around the shops, Diana got attacked (by a human this time) and forced to wear a bindi, and now we're sat in our plush accommodation.

Hope everything is well at home, we're at this hotel for 2 nights (Don't want to bankrupt ourselves after all, this is over 15 quid a night! That's around 6 cocktails!) and then, depending on Diana's health, we'll look for something a little cheaper in the area, because £15 is £15 more than Diana wants to spend on accommodation really.

All the best to everyone at home, hope it's warmed up a little!


Jonno