Beach World Tour 2019: Goin' to Goa

Cheenee and Ernest

My ship ported in Cochin, on the southern tip of India. I had already purchased a ticket online to take the train to Goa, two ports ahead of my ship. This turned out to be a very difficult trip but having wanted to learn a litte of the culture, I got slammed with it for three days.

COCHIN, THE SOUTHERN TIP OF INDIA

Instead of a ship sponsored excursion like most of the passengers took on big air conditioned buses on a tight schedule, I choose to head out on my own. I first negotiated a fare with a Tuk Tuk driver to deliver me to the main railroad staion, which I knew to be not far away. It is not air conditioned but the tempreture was not yet hot and it was breezy while moving.

These things almost never stop moving in traffic no matter how backed up it may be, and that was a lot. I'm feeling pretty good about my choice as I am continuously viewing pieces of India all around me. But, my short ride doesn't seem so short and I feel, from my earlier study of a map of the area, that we are going in the wrong direction.

Before I can protest, the Tuk Tuk turned into a parking lot and stopped. The driver tuned to me and said, "You shop." This was more discussion than the fare negotiation. I told him I didn't want to stop, that I wanted to go to the train station. I'm glad I had plenty of time before the train departed but, still.

He insisted I shop, said he had to have me shop, "Please 10 minutes, 10 minutes." I told he no and he was almost begging, "5 minutes, 5 minutes, We go." Again, I said I need to go to the station, not shop and now he looks desperate, "1 minute, 1 minute, we go." I gave in thinking it would quicker not to argue.

The signs said that it was a govenment owned store with certified genuine Indian products. (I guess this wasn't any of that fake Chinese stuff.) I looked around and saw this cute little brass cow and calf that I liked. I almost didn't buy it because I had been kidnapped and brought here. I bought it. My driver was so happy. "How much?" I told him $40 US and he quickly wrote it down in a little book.

I think we are back on the way to the railway station, when we turn into a clothing store. This time we have a discussion, "I want. To go, To the Station!" After much protest, off we go. I know this common practice becuase I saw several people I knew from the ship stepping out of air conditioned cabs, of which by now I am now envious.

I asked if they planned to stop and shop. None had. They were just going along with driver. I didn't feel the need to tell them they didn't have to shop since I was guilty of the same submission.

There is a large Muslum population in India.

Each home or business had a little bridge over the drainage ditch that smelled of rare sewage.

Most signs were in English.

Little green Tuk Tuk

Getting a hard stare from bike passenger. I don't know why.

I figure Lee Phillips will like the lines in this photo. I did.

This justa taste of it. There was trash everywhere and people raking through it to find tidbits of something of value.

Off we go to the railway station again, or so I thought. We were at a lovely park, with lots of locals and small markets and music. My driver kept making U-turns and I kept asking him why. I was about get out and start over when the driver talked to a man who turned out to be his boss. The boss asked me if I wanted to shop. I said no. I want to go to the railway station. He was very puzzeled but had a keen sense self purpose. "What do you want to buy?"

Having plenty of time, wanting get to know the culture but, against my better judgement I said, "I'd like to see some musical instruments." They huddled up then returned quickly to say they knew just the place. Off we went, again. We pulled up in front of what was obviously a furniture store.

As I waked in I asked the store owner if he had any musically instruments. Surprised, he said "No!" Then he thought a second and said yes. I was there anyway. He took me into the back, dark warehouse area. You know, the kind you're taken into before you disappear forever. There were three broke down POS unidentifiable type of instruments. Back to the Tuk Tuk.

My driver was disappointed. He was insisting on finding another place. I said go to the station and he refused to turn around and drive. We were at an impass. I told him, "Take me to the railway station right now or I will kill you."

He looked at me wide-eyed, apparently now understanding my English very well, and drove he to the station without another word.

Crossing over part of the bay on a bridge and saw an Indian aircraft carrier, the INS Vishal. It is still under construction and the first made in India, instead of obtaining an older British or Soviet carrier.

The Cochin Station was a large, older open-air station, extremely busy. I found the ticket counter and wited in line. Once at the clerk I asked how to pick up the pre-paid ticket. She looked at me funny and said I was holding the ticket and the train was on track one. She shoo-shooed we off with a flick of her fingers.

Something was wrong and it was almost departure time. I had a AC-1 confirmed status, what I now knew to be, ticket. The cars were clearly marked AC-2 (Air conditioned 2nd Class) or coach which just had all the windows open in the heat. There was no one around that I could identify as a railroad employee until I saw two men pushing a baggage cart. They sent me to track 3 which required a two-flight stair climb, over tracks 1 and 2 and back down to the platform.

Still no railway employees but I found one car that had AC-1 stenciled on the side, I went inside and stood around until a railway employee tried to rush past me in the narrow corridor. Cornered he looked at my ticket and put me in a four seat room that no one in it and was slightly air-conditioned. Even that was easily better than the stiffling heat outside. Playing with the controls I turned on two caged 18" ceiling fans which were much appreciated as besides also moving air then apparently pulled cool air from the vents. Making progress.

Soon another employee stuck his head and asked what I was doing there. I showed him my ticket and he moved me two compartments down. I looked at the ticket again and I'll be darned if I saw what told him which cabin I was assigned.

I thought I'd be by myself when just a few minutes before departure a young mother and her 2 year boy Ernest came in. She was struggling with a squiming baby, a purse, a small bag, a sippy cup and a rolling purple hardshell suitcase that was twice her size. Ah, the skills of motherhood. She tried to stow it but, no matter where it blocked something. She asked if she could put it under the table where my feet were. Okay, one leg up on the suitcase the other on the floor.

Her name was Cheene (pronounced Shee- knee) which means Sugar. Cute. I had already established the little boy's name as Ernest, as mom had to keep correcting the very active little boy. She was prepared though, with bottle, toys, cookies, washclothes and diapers.

Her husband is a Lt. Commander in the Indian Navy working in architectural ship design. He was picking her up at Karwar near the navl base there.

She told me she was lucky to have a husband that allowed her to travel alone, as that was difficult in India. In talking she menioned to be warry as people lie on the trains. "Everybody lies," she said almost as if it were funny. Ernest is precious.

Soon after the train start moving a couple of older Indian women come in and sit. A mother and daughter. They had permanant frowns on their face and spoke to neither of us. They looked at Ernest with disapproval. Soon, a fellow who turned out to be the good son came and talked to them. He joyfully explained they were on the way to Mumbai with him so he could take an offical test. If he passed, he became a medical doctor. He'd just finished medical school.

He came back a few minutes later and talked to the grumpy old ladies. Then he turned to us and asked if we'd move to the top bucks because his wife and mother-in-law wished to lie down and didn't want to climb up into the overhead bunks. Cheene refused, saying Ernest could fall and hurt himself. I followed her lead and told them I wasn't sure I could climb up there.

I don't know what they said but, they were not pleased and pointing. The husband was trying to calm them with an appollogetic but worried look on his face. He left and came back saying a man in the next compartment had agreed to move. The "ladies," dots on their forehead and dressed in traditional saris left without a word but increased frownage which left a lingering presence in the cabin.

I saw them later sitting together just as they had in our cabin. I told Cheene. She said, "See. I told you. Liars."

Near the next stop Cheene said we had five minutes and should get some tea and food from the platform concessioners because they would be closed later down the tracks. Baby on one hip, purse on the other we raced out when the train stopped. Not the first in line, so it was tight. She paid, I carried. She jumped on with baby as the train started and I was right behind her.

She had grabbed a bag of just cooked little rice donuts. We had that for supper, all three of us. She is only two years older than my daughter. That age and she was handling helping an American who knew nothing, her bag, and a mob rush to the concession. All this with a squirming baby under her right arm.

We talked about her family and mine while the poor displaced gentleman tried to nap in an upper bunk as did Ernest in his mothers lap. The man got up and talked to Cheene in Hindi awhile and left. Cheene said he wanted to talk politics and she would not and I apparently could not. The cheerful soon-to-be-doctot popped in and talked to us for a while and seemed a little embarrassed and apologetic about his mother-in-law.

Then Cheena and I talked about women traveling alone. She said it could be dangerous but, most men would never allow the wife to go out on their own. Women get molested all the time and raped.

Even if a man is solidly found to have raped a women he is not charged with a crime until the incident is reviewed by his family elders and church clergy. If his heart was not in the right place and the woman did not provoke him, such as looking seductivly at him, or immodest dress like a looseurka face veils, he will not be charged or found at fault. In fact, the rape victim can be charged with provoking her attacker.

Several hours later we arrived iin Kawar and I helped her off ther train just as her huband came up. I introduced myself and told him how proud his wife was of him and what a beautiful family he had. We took a family picture just as the train started moving. Cheene was trying to rush me back on the train but, I was not happy with the first photo. The train was moving as they regrouped and I took another shot. I slipped aboard just as it started to take off with them yelling good-bye and waving. The second shot was much better. It was a very nice feeling.

GOA

I arrived in Goa at 3:30 in the morning, right on time, Ten minutes before, I guess he was the conductor but, I'd never seen him before, knocked on the door to say we were approaching the last station.

I found people asleep everywhere on the platform. Even most of the dogs were couched out in little groups. At first it looked like I had walked up on some terrorist disaster.

There were cabs outside but, they were unoccupied. There was a little well-lit yellow taxi office. Behind it was a large sign with fares to different locations. I needed to go to Vasco de Gama which the bulletin said was 33 rupees (about 50 cents). I asked about prepayed ticket for a cab, non-air conditioned. It was a cool night and cabs with AC were about double in price. He told me 1,200 rupees (about $15 US).

I protested and pointed out the posted cost just behind him. "Night charge!" The couple next in line looked at each other like, "Boy is he about to get screwed... There was no other choice except the gypsy cab driver that tried to get me to take his cab as I got off the train on to the platform. At least that guy had been willng to negotiate. Fifteen bucks was still a resonable price and I was tired so I let them gouge the big American dummy.

When I got to Vasco and my hotel, Hoetel la Plaz Gardens, it looked nothing like it did on the website. I wasn't bad, just different. It was on the second floor up with no elevator. Once I checked in (way too early. I had to pay for this night's stay.) I took a double expandable cage door elevator to the next floor which was the 2nd floor. The ground floor must have been the street level.

Later that day I looked for some live music or a football game but, Tuesday evening is not the best time to find such things. There were a couple of games but they were over an hour away in another city. I walked the city. All kinds of stores big and small, corporate and mom & pop places. The bright star was the Sweet and Sour restaruant. It had the best soups, spicey but, it didn't overwhelm the tatste. So good. I had no digestive problems that I had been warned about and they were afraid of .

GETTING BACK ON BOARD

The next morning I got to the ship and it took me over an hour to get through. I sat in the shade with the Army guards assigned to the gate. It was 38c but there was a nice little breeze. They offered me tea and said the process may take awhile. They had called Immigration to come out.

As I was sitting comfortablly among 5 armed Indian soldiers, talking with them. Passengers from the ship would walk by in and out, wave and say things like, "Jim! You have a new job?" The boarding process was much more complicated having got off in one port in India and getting on in another. The other passengers were getting on and off quickly with just a copy of their passport.

After a while one soldier asked why they wanted to know if I had a new job. I told him I was a retired cop and they associated guarding the entrance to the ship with that. After a while another soldier came by with a bag. They offered me an ice cold pouch of sweet lassi. I have never had anything so sweet in all my life! It was almost painful but, it was extraodinarily refreshing in the heat and tastey. They first thing I did when I finally got on board was to check my blood-sugar level. It was at 300! I immediately took the appropriate amount of insulin. Whew, I held my life in my own hands there for a while.

Showered, shaved and sailed away to Mumbai on a nice evening breeze as I watched the mini-drama going on during our exit.