The rain in Mumbai was torrential when we arrived. We thought this might be the case because we were heading straight into the monsoon. ‘Why?’ I hear you ask. Well, for a start I didn’t even know India had a monsoon. The afternoon mainly involved us fighting through the storm to get to a different station across the city from which our connecting train to Goa was departing. With our big rucksacks on our backs, day bags on our fronts and waterproof ponchos thrown over the top we looked like snails in Pac A Macs getting ready to board the Log Flume at Alton Towers. After arriving in the correct area we spent an afternoon hiding out in McDonalds drinking coffee with the rats (they were so big we contemplated saddling them up and riding them to Goa).

Due to the floods our 11pm train was delayed and was now departing from a different station about 20 minutes away, so we jumped into a taxi. I don’t know what the driver was on, but I need some of whatever it was. That journey was like a white knuckle ride as we raced through people, cats and rats at lightning speed. Obviously when we hit the sign that said ‘NO YOU TURN’ we defied all odds and traffic warnings and swung round 180 degrees in the middle of the motorway with me hanging out of the window and spent the next 2 minutes flying along at 80mph playing chicken with the oncoming traffic. I’m pretty sure my heart stopped a few times, and not in a good way. We then got a few minutes of respite before the driver decided the journey needed spicing up again and zig zagged across the road whilst sporadically slamming on his breaks. It was like riding a kangaroo on ecstasy. I spent most of the journey either getting thrown out of the window and trying to reel myself back in or with my head in Lyvette’s crotch. The most un ideal thing about this white knuckle ride was that the wind caused our fringes to look more ludicrous than usual but I’m sure the pedestrians of Mumbai had a chuckle at our expense as they witnessed the characters of Wayne’s World clinging to the side of an out of control taxi.

After spending the day taking a tour of Mumbai’s finest railway stations and arriving at our third and final one we found out that our train was delayed for an unknown period of time due to the weather. This was when Lyvette became obsessed with Train Man, the only person at the station who could speak English and was willing to try and keep us informed on what was going on. She insisted on following him everywhere so she didn’t miss anything. He had to ask her to leave the toilet. That was awkward. At this point we had to sit on the platform and wait. Obviously we decided to put our bags at the point where the rats come out of the drainpipe. That caused a commotion. Especially when we thought Lyvette’s fringe had jumped off her head and climbed onto our bags. We finally caught our train 7 hours later. That was our first experience of Mumbai.

Goa , Panjim

Goa is very much a place to visit before or after the monsoon, not during, but we wanted to visit anyway. We were warned it would be quiet, and wet, but we didn’t care. And we’re glad we didn’t because we met some of our favourite people so far and laughed more than either of us have in a long time.

The two snails in Pac A Macs arrived at the hostel to be greeted by a group of people;

“We’re going on a pub crawl and you’re coming with us”.
Ok, well that’s sorted then.

The next few days were spent mooching around, visiting waterfalls, finding cake shops, learning how to cut up Jack Fruit, waking the boys up to get them out of the door, dressing certain males up in yellow jumpsuits and grey stilettos and cutting Amit and Yves nails. At one point Yves told me it was impossible to break bamboo because it’s so strong. He lied. I realised this when I took a running jump and swing at an overhanging branch and it cracked leaving me in a heap on the floor with two Indian women heckling me.

One of my personal highlights was when one of the girls went for a haircut and came back with a wonky dip dye and a dodgy fringe to match mine and Lyvette’s. When she walked in with a fringe she never asked for I nearly fell off my chair. We embraced her into the dodgy fringe club with open arms.

Goa, Anjuna

We headed to Anjuna to hire some scooters, taking some of the Panjim crew with us. As it turns out our hostel in Anjuna was made from bamboo, which sounds cool, but it’s not when you wake up covered in mosquito bites and have to dodge the jumping ants in your bed. To be fair we should have guessed with a name like ‘Bricks and Bamboo’. It also didn’t have a door, just a flap.

I spent the first night safely wrapped up in my mosquito net (which was an absolute blessing) and fell asleep to the sound of Lyvette on the bunk above slapping herself and fly-fitting every time something landed on her. I could tell that she wasn’t happy at all, especially when we heard a roar outside our flap. She slept with her knife that night. She swore to me the next morning that she had a giant lizard on her leg at one point (I didn’t see one lizard in Anjuna).  She was even more unhappy when she realised she’d been bitten on her woo. She slept in her mosquito net the next night.

Lesson one – mosquito nets are very useful. Lesson two – don’t ever let Lyvette take you anywhere on a scooter. Especially after a Mojito. I ended up with the bike crushing one leg and an exhaust burn on the other with Lyvette shouting “Waaaaaaaaaaaa this bike is quite heavy!” with both her legs wild and free and totally-not-stuck-under-the-bike which she had dumped on my leg. “Really? You’re not kidding!”

The next morning, Mojito free, was slightly better. We were doing well until, once again in control, Lyvette headed towards the wall. I realised at this point that there was a good chance Goa would be the place my life would end. On the back of a scooter with a dodgy fringe wearing disgusting sandals and covered in mosquito bites (with sanitised hands though, obviously). My heart stopped more times than it had during the Mumbai white knuckle taxi ride. As it turns out we survived and she got better with her scooter control. Or so I thought. Then she took out the Indian lady who was minding her own business strolling down the street. That’s when I lost my cool.

“F**k Lyvette!!! You just took a woman out! You actually just hit a woman!!”

“OMG is she chasing us?! I’ll go faster…”

“NO!!! DO NOT GO FASTER. I REPEAT DO NOT GO ANY FASTER. AND WATCH THAT COW!!!!”

Time to hand in the scooters and head back to Mumbai for our final days in India

Mumbai (the arrival)

After a 13 hour train journey I was almost able to practise my ninja roll off the train.

It would seem that falling asleep before your stop is not ideal. Especially when the train only hangs around at that station for 1 minute. I lay on my back in the top bed of the three tier bunk staring at the ceiling and day dreaming about samosa butties and started to wonder if we were nearly at our stop, so I popped my head over to discuss this with Lyvette who was snoozing with her knife on the bunk below, whilst John (our other travel buddy from Goa) lay in a deep sleep in the top bunk opposite (with a hole in the crotch of his £1.50 pants for the record). The next few minutes were like a really badly organised military operation as we realised this was our stop and it was a matter of seconds before the train left the station. I toppled head first off the top bunk grabbed my hand sanitiser and playing cards and bolted for the door before realising I didn’t have my shoes on or any of my belongings. Meanwhile Lyvette had scooped up her knife and was busy sitting on an Indian lady whilst yanking her backpack from underneath the bottom bunk and John was busy snoring in his £1.50 pants with no crotch. It took three punches to the buttock to stir him from his coma and then he too joined in the drama as we ran around like headless chickens trying to grab our belongings. It didn’t help that the staff were stood at the train door watching the commotion and shouting “Quick, quick, get off, get off!!” Lyvette was first off and safely onto the platform. The train started to slowly move when I was at the door. I could see Lyvette on the platform panicking that I wasn’t going to get off the train and John still on the train putting his shoes on.

Lyvette: “Heather, Heather!!!! Get off! Jump, jump”

Me: “John, John it’s going, get your shoes on!”

Train Attendant: “Quick, quick, get off, get off!”

John: “Everyone can see my crotch!!!!!”

Finally as the train started rolling John put his shoes on and we jumped onto the platform. In all the excitement I forgot to ninja roll. I was gutted.

We are now in Mumbai recovering from our drama at the train station and Lyvette is very much looking forward to some air conditioning. The storms seemed to have eased and so far we haven’t had to put on our Pac A Macs this time around. We only have 4 days left in India so we’re going to get riding some Tuk Tuk’s and possibly try out a proper ninja roll…

*Some of the above may not make sense if you haven’t read our previous blogs. And even if you have read them, we can’t promise that you’ll understand Heather’s waffle!