Now in Panjim, the capital of Goa, but heading off to Hampi tonight. It'll be our first overnight bus journey, it's not even air conditioned and apparently the roads are terrible (though probably not as bad as Kazakhstan....).

Since the last post we've visited the beaches at Anjuna, Calangute and Vagator. Anjuna is famous for it's flea market where you can buy any old tourist tat. Our favourite was the shorts without button holes. Its also the first time someone's tried the "there's something in your ear" scam. Anjuna is where we hired Bogbrush, the crappy Enfield for a bargain 300rs a day. Continuing her tribulations with motorised 2 wheel transport Grapes burnt her leg on the exhaust within 2 minutes of getting on but thankfully she was too late and I'd already handed over the cash.

To describe Bogbrush in a way that does it justice is difficult. It was the lesser 350cc version complete with horrific 1 up 3 down gearbox on the right. There were neutrals where there shouldn't have been, the back wheel was loose so the back brake came on with a big bang, the speedo and lights didn't work, it chomped fuel and would randomly stall, usually in the middle of a busy junction (and it had a kickstart). All good fun then, and rather like my car in fact... :-)

We decided to spend a day in Chavvy Calangute. It was wall to wall fat sunburnt people, all moaning about the lack of fish and chips. Kind of like a costa del goa, but with open sewers as well. We stayed up the road at Baga so we could visit Tito's, "Goa's top club". It was of course rubbish, with mid 90s style flourescent painted walls and we had the double misfortune on visiting on House and RnB night. Calangute's only saving grace is on the southern end of the beach there's a grounded oil tanker that's been there for 7 years (hmmm dodgy insurance job or something - someone in the local government must have received a fair few brown envelopes over this). It's kind of surreal swimming near this thing with sunbeds and bars just on the beach facing it. For Grapes though, Calangute's main attraction is the almost endless string of shops selling fake handbags. I've never seen her so happy, she'll probably not achieve the same state of nirvana again in her lifetime. She bought 3 in the end (for her Mum, sister and herself). I now know that Chloe bags have padlocks and Radly bags have little dogs attached to them by string but not sown on cos that's an obvious fake...

We tried to visit Panjim for the first time on saturday but without realising arrived on carnival day, in the middle of a nationwidewide doctors conference. It's the first time we've not been able to find any rooms at all, so we went to Vagator instead. Vagator is (apparently) Goa's main party beach, but it's actually quite a nice place in its own right. Don't buy marmite on toast from the place listed in the Lying Planet in Chapora.

We ran Bogbrush out of fuel, stuck it on reserve and handed it back before making our way to Panjim. This time there were rooms available, and just after checking in we bumped into Clare and Kristen (from Rajasthan) who'd also just checked in! They blagged some free tickets to the "Panjim carnival evening", complete with black, red and gold theme (so that was me buggered then). It was kind of fun, especially as we got singled out by the announcer (Grapes was called "Carla"). The bands weren't bad either in a cheesy way, and it was funny watching all the indian guys captivated by the ropey russian belly dancer.

One evening we met expat Robbie, who'd retired here from Charlton. He was a staggeringly suntanned CSA exile, who spent his days smoking and drinking while slowly dessicating himself in the sun. He recommended this nearby beach, and as we had to wait an extra day for the bus to Hampi we thought we might as well. The 4 of us went, and it was quite pleasant, though Robbie's speedos were maybe less so. (See picture here! http://kristenandclaretravelling.blogspot.com/)

Now in Goa, but left Mumbai for Matheran about a week ago. Matheran is described as a hill station, but a better idea is to think of it as a Monument valley style mesa with a town and jungle on top. The ride up is very impressive and everywhere you go the views to the valleys 800m below are stunning. There is also a ban on motorised transport at the top so you get dumped at a car park 2km from the village itself. We're so bloody minded that we refused to hire a porter to take our bags up and instead struggled up ourselves in the 30 degree heat (which is noticably less than Mumbai).

Luckily we found a helpful hotel owner for the first time in India - he was actually honest and even took us to a festival one evening and paid for our dinner! The festival was actually a Hindu and Muslim one that happened to fall on the same full moon. It was held at one of the lookouts and the view down into the misty moonlit valleys surrounded by jagged silhouetted peaks was quite magical. Makes the Taj by moonlight sound a bit rubbish really...

Matheran is actually famous for having a narrow guage railway run from the bottom to the top, built around a hundred years ago. When we arrived it wasn't running, but it transpired that after a 2 year hiatus (from monsoon damage) they'd just finished the repairs and were doing test runs. After a lot of negotiation (read pleading) they let us ride it down on one of the tests for free. It didn't exactly feel ready to go, and half way down we had to stop to help clear a pickup that had got stuck on the rails...

We headed down to Goa straight afterwards, sharing the overnight train with a couple of snoring brummie indians innit. First we headed for Palolem beach, right in the south of the state. It's a massively overdeveloped beach, made to sound quite nice in the Lying Planet. Actually it is quite nice as all the development is bamboo beach huts and bars but very busy none the less. The sea is very warm here, but quite murky, and full of fish that you don't see until they jump over your head.

One day we decided to hire a scooter. Then we didn't. We never went for a wander on it. Grapes never decided to give it a go and she certainly didn't fall off after 20 metres. She definitely didn't require a bandage on her knee made of sanitary towels cos that would just be embarrasing. Just to reiterate, none of this ever happened.

(At the bottom of the screen even before I started typing: "Labels for this post:e.g. scooters, vacation, fall". Strangely prescient these computers aren't they? ;-)

Now we're at Arambol beach, right in the north of the state, a journey requiring 4 individual bus journeys (at a total cost of about 60p each). The last bus was so full that you couldn't move for sweaty Indian men - needless to say not a particularly enjoyable experience.

Arambol is a bit of a hippie backpacker place. Its full of people with dreads, henna tattoos and psychadelic trousers. We haven't really explored it yet but have just had lunch and feel too lethargic to so have gone to this internet cafe instead. We'll probably stay here for a few days before heading off. I fancy hiring an Enfield (tried on the other day, even worse than my bike but sound fantastic so who cares) to wander round the rest of Goa for a few days, and as Grapes hasn't had a scooter accident she's quite receptive to this idea as well.