caravanman
Engineer
Searching for my “Marigold Hotel”.
November 2022.
I guess, like so many people, the virus lockdowns knocked me for six. I find I have a lot of “brain fog” these days, partly from lockdowns, but also it seems that I am starting on the slippery slope to age related declining mental ability.
I have for the last year had intensive family strife too, and no end in sight…
What to do?
Escape to India of course! Yes! Let’s go!
My intention on this visit, a last minute booking, was a holiday, rather than a trip. Mostly I like to hop on and off trains and travel far and wide, seeing as much as I can fit in. This visit was intended to be a feet up, relaxing, take it easy and recuperate sort of experience. How did it go? Read on…
I had been lucky to receive an invite to stay, from an American woman who was a business partner in a tourist resort in Aurangabad, and that was a god send, as it suited my needs very well.
Having hunted the internet for a flight to India, I soon became aware of the high prices demanded, quite a shock compared to pre “lock down” prices!
In a rush, I booked a flight with Lufthansa, departing Birmingham, changing planes in Germany, and arriving at Mumbai around 1am local time.
Not a smart choice on my part, although the headline flight was the cheapest, with baggage, I had to pay a fortune for a taxi to the airport from home early morning to start with, and then endure a surprise 10 hour layover in Germany on the way home.
(Don’t talk to me about senile old blokes who don’t pay full attention to what they are booking…!)
I was pleased to find that the UK airport FX was able to sell me £20 worth of rupees, handy to have on arrival. (Indian currency is not usually available outside of India, either rules have changed, or maybe the large Indian population of Birmingham might have a bearing on this.)
I wanted to stay at the same hotel that I used previously in Mumbai, but they did not answer my email queries about late night arrivals. Fortunately, after contacting an internet chum in Mumbai, he kindly phoned the hotel and confirmed matters were in order for my arrival and check in late at night.
Arrival in India was hassle free, but the taxi pre-pay Mumbai booth at the airport was a bit of a challenge. No matter how many ways I tried to pronounce the name of my hotel, the lady could not make sense of it. I wrote the name and address in capital letters, but still no joy. A new chap entered the office, and seeing my writing, read out “Lamington Road”. Smiles all round, all sorted, even though I had already said “Lamington Road” until I was blue in the face!
Quite a strange experience arriving in the sleepy early hours, such a change from the hustle and bustle of daytime life in India.
(For information, the fare was Rs.850, airport to near Mumbai central train station…)
The night porter at the hotel eventually admitted me, and I sank gratefully into my bed, and a much needed sleep!
Next day I just dozed and rested. The hotel owner sent out for an India electric plug adaptor, saying it would cost me a lot more if I tried to buy it myself, as a tourist. There was a little shop next to the hotel, so I stocked up on water and snacks, as well as some powdered milk for my tea.
Over the next few days, I had a lot of nice meals, wandered around fairly aimlessly, and enjoyed the warm sunshine, of course.
A clown in Mumbai. (Also Ronald...)
Oddly, my Mumbai hotel asks guests to check out by 9.30am, the earliest I have experienced anywhere on my travels. Not a problem today, as guests can hang around in the roof restaurant until they are ready to leave.
My train was due to depart around noon from the large former Victoria Terminus station, now renamed Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus, often referred to as CSTM or CST for short.
Taxi from the hotel to CST was Rs150, which I didn’t argue about.
13 years ago, we used CST station to travel to Neral for a connection to the Matheran hill railway. We were looking a bit lost, and an Indian lady who spoke excellent English, assisted us to the correct ticket window and ordered our tickets from the clerk, saying she had lived in the UK at one time. We thanked her, and gave a small donation for her time.
I was astonished to be approached by the very same lady again today! I already had my ticket and could see my platform indicated, so no help was needed this time. Actually quite a boon to unfamiliar visitors, I hope she earns enough in tips to continue well into the future!
My train departs from the farthest platform, happily reached with level access, without the need to engage a porter.
I am in the “executive” chair car, with nice cool a/c. I have an aisle seat and the window seat is taken by a young Indian lady who it turns out is also going to Aurangabad, to her friend’s wedding. She has been abroad, and is an interesting companion for the journey.
I had brought some snacks along for the train ride, and my seat companion offered me some of her food from home also, so I was well fed!
The scenery was interesting, with many hills on either side of the train. We started to loose time over the journey, and it was dark when we pulled into Aurangabad station. I said goodbye to my companion and headed out of the station to look for Kathy, my host, who I was expecting to meet me.
Long story short, Kathy had tripped badly while heading into the station, a dark evening, and a dark shape sleeping on the floor had combined to cause her to fall, leaving her in serious pain, and with a suspected fracture…
We met up with her driver, and on the ride back to the hotel, she told me a little about the resort, the nearby attractions, and how she came to be involved.
I was encouraged to head straight to the restaurant when we got back, before it closed for the evening, and enjoyed the first of many nice meals.
Kathy meanwhile bandaged her wrist, took some pain killers, and we both went off for an early night, a very sad and shocking start to our first meeting…!
Kathy had an overseas visitor there already, whom I met the following day. A very interesting American guy, touring India by motorbike. Yes, I did get a pillion ride to the nearby village shops, my first time on a motor bike for over 50 years. I quickly decided that motorbikes and I are no longer compatible!
Kathy had managed to get to a clinic for an x-ray of her wrist, fortunately it was not broken but was badly sprained. As she spent a lot of time on her computer, apart from the pain, the inability to type put a damper on spirits.
Arriving on the Monday evening, I had a ticket to leave by rail on Saturday, and had (I thought) already reserved a hotel in the next place. After a flurry of emails from that hotel asking for bank transfers to confirm my booking, I though instead to create a plan “B”, and asked if I could stay longer at Ellora, which turned out to be exactly the soothing rest I actually needed…
(I am not sure why, but it seems that even when giving card details on main sites, such as booking dot com, Indian hotels often require a bank transfer. Not easy to arrange for a tourist en-route...)
Plan “A” had been to head south east towards Chennai to meet up with a UK ex-pat, married to an Indian lady, but it seems that Chennai was experiencing heavy rain now, so not a great time to visit after all.
I had a lot of suggestions and encouragement to design a new itinerary, but somehow I felt so relaxed at Ellora, I couldn’t decide my next move…
Ellora is renowned for the number of ancient temples cut into the cliff faces, and massive ornate sculptures.
We had visited Ellora and Ajanta on our first visit to India, back in 1983, so it was fun to see the area again. Much more tourist orientated now!
Having abandoned my plan to visit Chennai, I eventually booked an onward train ticket to Delhi from Aurangabad. Folk with non-Indian bank cards often find it impossible to pay for e-tickets on Indian Railway’s website, so I used an agent to obtain my ticket.
Not much to report about the journey, except that a nice Muslim guy had the opposite lower bunk, and regularly got his prayer mat out and tried to orientate himself correctly to carry on his devotions. He was a teacher, and spoke good English, so we had several chats. He had been to England only once, to Bradford of all places. Not a usual tourist destination, but he was no doubt visiting relations there.
(Continued in part 2... Post was too long to keep as one item...)
November 2022.
I guess, like so many people, the virus lockdowns knocked me for six. I find I have a lot of “brain fog” these days, partly from lockdowns, but also it seems that I am starting on the slippery slope to age related declining mental ability.
I have for the last year had intensive family strife too, and no end in sight…
What to do?
Escape to India of course! Yes! Let’s go!
My intention on this visit, a last minute booking, was a holiday, rather than a trip. Mostly I like to hop on and off trains and travel far and wide, seeing as much as I can fit in. This visit was intended to be a feet up, relaxing, take it easy and recuperate sort of experience. How did it go? Read on…
I had been lucky to receive an invite to stay, from an American woman who was a business partner in a tourist resort in Aurangabad, and that was a god send, as it suited my needs very well.
Having hunted the internet for a flight to India, I soon became aware of the high prices demanded, quite a shock compared to pre “lock down” prices!
In a rush, I booked a flight with Lufthansa, departing Birmingham, changing planes in Germany, and arriving at Mumbai around 1am local time.
Not a smart choice on my part, although the headline flight was the cheapest, with baggage, I had to pay a fortune for a taxi to the airport from home early morning to start with, and then endure a surprise 10 hour layover in Germany on the way home.
(Don’t talk to me about senile old blokes who don’t pay full attention to what they are booking…!)
I was pleased to find that the UK airport FX was able to sell me £20 worth of rupees, handy to have on arrival. (Indian currency is not usually available outside of India, either rules have changed, or maybe the large Indian population of Birmingham might have a bearing on this.)
I wanted to stay at the same hotel that I used previously in Mumbai, but they did not answer my email queries about late night arrivals. Fortunately, after contacting an internet chum in Mumbai, he kindly phoned the hotel and confirmed matters were in order for my arrival and check in late at night.
Arrival in India was hassle free, but the taxi pre-pay Mumbai booth at the airport was a bit of a challenge. No matter how many ways I tried to pronounce the name of my hotel, the lady could not make sense of it. I wrote the name and address in capital letters, but still no joy. A new chap entered the office, and seeing my writing, read out “Lamington Road”. Smiles all round, all sorted, even though I had already said “Lamington Road” until I was blue in the face!
Quite a strange experience arriving in the sleepy early hours, such a change from the hustle and bustle of daytime life in India.
(For information, the fare was Rs.850, airport to near Mumbai central train station…)
The night porter at the hotel eventually admitted me, and I sank gratefully into my bed, and a much needed sleep!
Next day I just dozed and rested. The hotel owner sent out for an India electric plug adaptor, saying it would cost me a lot more if I tried to buy it myself, as a tourist. There was a little shop next to the hotel, so I stocked up on water and snacks, as well as some powdered milk for my tea.
Over the next few days, I had a lot of nice meals, wandered around fairly aimlessly, and enjoyed the warm sunshine, of course.
A clown in Mumbai. (Also Ronald...)
Oddly, my Mumbai hotel asks guests to check out by 9.30am, the earliest I have experienced anywhere on my travels. Not a problem today, as guests can hang around in the roof restaurant until they are ready to leave.
My train was due to depart around noon from the large former Victoria Terminus station, now renamed Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus, often referred to as CSTM or CST for short.
Taxi from the hotel to CST was Rs150, which I didn’t argue about.
13 years ago, we used CST station to travel to Neral for a connection to the Matheran hill railway. We were looking a bit lost, and an Indian lady who spoke excellent English, assisted us to the correct ticket window and ordered our tickets from the clerk, saying she had lived in the UK at one time. We thanked her, and gave a small donation for her time.
I was astonished to be approached by the very same lady again today! I already had my ticket and could see my platform indicated, so no help was needed this time. Actually quite a boon to unfamiliar visitors, I hope she earns enough in tips to continue well into the future!
My train departs from the farthest platform, happily reached with level access, without the need to engage a porter.
I am in the “executive” chair car, with nice cool a/c. I have an aisle seat and the window seat is taken by a young Indian lady who it turns out is also going to Aurangabad, to her friend’s wedding. She has been abroad, and is an interesting companion for the journey.
I had brought some snacks along for the train ride, and my seat companion offered me some of her food from home also, so I was well fed!
The scenery was interesting, with many hills on either side of the train. We started to loose time over the journey, and it was dark when we pulled into Aurangabad station. I said goodbye to my companion and headed out of the station to look for Kathy, my host, who I was expecting to meet me.
Long story short, Kathy had tripped badly while heading into the station, a dark evening, and a dark shape sleeping on the floor had combined to cause her to fall, leaving her in serious pain, and with a suspected fracture…
We met up with her driver, and on the ride back to the hotel, she told me a little about the resort, the nearby attractions, and how she came to be involved.
I was encouraged to head straight to the restaurant when we got back, before it closed for the evening, and enjoyed the first of many nice meals.
Kathy meanwhile bandaged her wrist, took some pain killers, and we both went off for an early night, a very sad and shocking start to our first meeting…!
Kathy had an overseas visitor there already, whom I met the following day. A very interesting American guy, touring India by motorbike. Yes, I did get a pillion ride to the nearby village shops, my first time on a motor bike for over 50 years. I quickly decided that motorbikes and I are no longer compatible!
Kathy had managed to get to a clinic for an x-ray of her wrist, fortunately it was not broken but was badly sprained. As she spent a lot of time on her computer, apart from the pain, the inability to type put a damper on spirits.
Arriving on the Monday evening, I had a ticket to leave by rail on Saturday, and had (I thought) already reserved a hotel in the next place. After a flurry of emails from that hotel asking for bank transfers to confirm my booking, I though instead to create a plan “B”, and asked if I could stay longer at Ellora, which turned out to be exactly the soothing rest I actually needed…
(I am not sure why, but it seems that even when giving card details on main sites, such as booking dot com, Indian hotels often require a bank transfer. Not easy to arrange for a tourist en-route...)
Plan “A” had been to head south east towards Chennai to meet up with a UK ex-pat, married to an Indian lady, but it seems that Chennai was experiencing heavy rain now, so not a great time to visit after all.
I had a lot of suggestions and encouragement to design a new itinerary, but somehow I felt so relaxed at Ellora, I couldn’t decide my next move…
Ellora is renowned for the number of ancient temples cut into the cliff faces, and massive ornate sculptures.
We had visited Ellora and Ajanta on our first visit to India, back in 1983, so it was fun to see the area again. Much more tourist orientated now!
Having abandoned my plan to visit Chennai, I eventually booked an onward train ticket to Delhi from Aurangabad. Folk with non-Indian bank cards often find it impossible to pay for e-tickets on Indian Railway’s website, so I used an agent to obtain my ticket.
Not much to report about the journey, except that a nice Muslim guy had the opposite lower bunk, and regularly got his prayer mat out and tried to orientate himself correctly to carry on his devotions. He was a teacher, and spoke good English, so we had several chats. He had been to England only once, to Bradford of all places. Not a usual tourist destination, but he was no doubt visiting relations there.
(Continued in part 2... Post was too long to keep as one item...)
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