A rambling list of trivia from a marathon bus journey, which almost retraces the steps of the Russian affair some 4 years previously. The route has many changes, starting at Om beach, via Gokarna, Ankola, Karwar, Margao, Panjim, Mapusa, Arambol to Arambol beach.
On the bus we pass a novel 'kamat plus' building. I'm used to kamat hotels (hotel meaning restaurant) which are a chain of south Indian restaurants. The 'Kamat plus' concept appears to be vegetarian restaurant plus hardware and paints. A true one stop shop!
This feels like progressive Karnataka, away from the dusty inland towns. A schoolgirl sits beside me, and so I make a comfortable gap, remembering the cultural rules of before. This gap is quickly seized by another schoolgirl. The bus is soon packed full anyway. I glance at the schoolwork of the boy on my left, and girl on my right. Both are studying in English. Despite what Google tries to tell me of the potential audience of 550m Hindi speakers, English is bigger. It's a valuable asset in the expanding state capital of Bengaluru.
We pass what might be a dead body by the side of the road. A man laying face down in the dirt by an incomplete lane of the highway, dressed in the almost ubiquitous check shirt and brown trousers. It's about 9am, and has been light for 3 hours. When I have seen Indian people sleep on the ground it's normally wrapped in a sheet, laid on the back or side, with the head towards the road. I did once find a man in a similar state in Nepal who turned out to be very, very drunk.
In Goa the road is briefly blocked as an oncoming car tries to overtake stationary traffic on a narrow bridge. The stalemate takes a minute to resolve, and then over the bridge it gets worse. A whole road of stationary traffic trying to overtake each other, blocking both directions. Me first.
I stop in Mapusa to get some spendable cash. Getting cash that businesses accept is a challenge post cash ban, the state bank ATM has a queue of 17 people. But I find the paydirt! A bank of Baroda ATM with no queue and a supply of Rs500 notes. If I withdraw over Rs2000 the money includes the stifling Rs2000 bank note, and so I withdraw Rs1500 at a time, again, and again, and again. After the frenzy is over I have a wallet stuffed with real money. I have been careful to choose a bank card with no per-withdrawal minimum fee, bank debit cards often come with a £3 charge for foreign ATMs which is punitive for small withdrawals.
Goa has the worst buses. For some reason it lacks the state-owned bus service which makes getting around south India so pleasant. Local bus operators play a game of sardines with locally-built overgrown minibuses, each about two thirds the size of an actual bus. I spend the agonising journey to Arambol as one of the 50 sardines packed onto a 30-something capacity bus. Standing pressed against the passengers on each side, with my neck painfully cocked due to the 175cm high ceiling. Any unanticipated speed bump thumps my head into the roof.
I arrive 10 hours and 6 buses after my start
On the bus we pass a novel 'kamat plus' building. I'm used to kamat hotels (hotel meaning restaurant) which are a chain of south Indian restaurants. The 'Kamat plus' concept appears to be vegetarian restaurant plus hardware and paints. A true one stop shop!
This feels like progressive Karnataka, away from the dusty inland towns. A schoolgirl sits beside me, and so I make a comfortable gap, remembering the cultural rules of before. This gap is quickly seized by another schoolgirl. The bus is soon packed full anyway. I glance at the schoolwork of the boy on my left, and girl on my right. Both are studying in English. Despite what Google tries to tell me of the potential audience of 550m Hindi speakers, English is bigger. It's a valuable asset in the expanding state capital of Bengaluru.
We pass what might be a dead body by the side of the road. A man laying face down in the dirt by an incomplete lane of the highway, dressed in the almost ubiquitous check shirt and brown trousers. It's about 9am, and has been light for 3 hours. When I have seen Indian people sleep on the ground it's normally wrapped in a sheet, laid on the back or side, with the head towards the road. I did once find a man in a similar state in Nepal who turned out to be very, very drunk.
In Goa the road is briefly blocked as an oncoming car tries to overtake stationary traffic on a narrow bridge. The stalemate takes a minute to resolve, and then over the bridge it gets worse. A whole road of stationary traffic trying to overtake each other, blocking both directions. Me first.
I stop in Mapusa to get some spendable cash. Getting cash that businesses accept is a challenge post cash ban, the state bank ATM has a queue of 17 people. But I find the paydirt! A bank of Baroda ATM with no queue and a supply of Rs500 notes. If I withdraw over Rs2000 the money includes the stifling Rs2000 bank note, and so I withdraw Rs1500 at a time, again, and again, and again. After the frenzy is over I have a wallet stuffed with real money. I have been careful to choose a bank card with no per-withdrawal minimum fee, bank debit cards often come with a £3 charge for foreign ATMs which is punitive for small withdrawals.
Goa has the worst buses. For some reason it lacks the state-owned bus service which makes getting around south India so pleasant. Local bus operators play a game of sardines with locally-built overgrown minibuses, each about two thirds the size of an actual bus. I spend the agonising journey to Arambol as one of the 50 sardines packed onto a 30-something capacity bus. Standing pressed against the passengers on each side, with my neck painfully cocked due to the 175cm high ceiling. Any unanticipated speed bump thumps my head into the roof.
I arrive 10 hours and 6 buses after my start
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