Bangalore to Goa Roadtrip : Option 2 Hubli

Distance: 580km
Expected Travel Time: 9.5 hrs   Actual 12 hours
Vehicle: Maruti Jeep


The Reason:

It just had to be done; I arrived in Bangalore and just had to get the jeep back plus Patrik of course!


The Route:

The Jog Falls option was very nice but in a jeep, just so tiring, unless of course it morphed into a Mercedes overnight. So it was back to Google. The route I planned was up top Hubli and turn left, the directions seemed clear but decided to double check, the directions said come off at Bankapur, so I thought I would be clever and get the exact mileage from Yeswanthpur Station to Bankapur....good thinking eh?  

Set the alarm for 5.30 a.m. so I am able to get off at 6 and only have to drive in daylight, my usual strategy.
The Reality:

The strategy would have worked if I had not been dragged off 'kicking and shouting' to a Glenlivet Malt event at the Taj, I blame the wife, actually I blame her for everything......I missed the 5.30 alarm, woke up at 6.00 and ran round like a headless chicken for 20 minutes. Wifey, in the meantime had raised an eyelid and was complaining I had not left yet! Another 5 minutes and I think I am ready..........the other eyelid was raised but not synchronized with the left, just before you go can you make me a cup of tea and walk the dogs!!!!! 'Yes Sweetheart, of course ' is probably what I should have said....

I eventually leave at 7.15 a.m.; perfect timing to hit the traffic and realize I did not know the way to Yeswanthpur from where we lived......Tiring and annoying and decided we should have stayed in the previous apartment where I knew the way!  
The Remarks:

Within 500 metres from home:
Horrendous traffic, Patrik is already asleep amongst the jungle of foliage that we have decided would be better off in Goa plus a few more bags of stuff we never used in the UK, never used in Bangalore and unlikely to use in Goa......but you never know when they might be useful.

At least it’s warm and dry

After two or three kms:

In a dead end road near Malleshwaram. Real fun

 After an hour or so:

Finally I get on a road I recognize and join the traffic jam....

After an eternity:

I am at Yeswanthpur. 'Yippee' I cry and Patrik starts to howl!

Once on the toll road you realize how boring 600kms on your own might be. Within 15 kms I have completed my medley of Bee Gee 'hits' with the odd  "Shililtes' thrown in ( no,  they are not an radical extremist cell, ask anyone who was around in the 70's who they were...Funny to think they are probably all gone now or smell of cabbage) and I can tell Patrik is getting worried. I recognize the look, ever since I started to train him to wear a crash helmet, he has a adopted this "I don't believe it' look and I can see it now.
I ask Patrik if he has any requests, no reply.

The toll booths come and go and the scenery changes but you are driving too fast really to take in what's happening either side of the highway, unlike wifey who can drive down a road, and not only tell you who has not washed their windows but what TV Channel they are watching and still manages to drive!

I have worked out that as soon as my mileometer, or is it kilometer meter reaches 220 I have to turn left! That’s my plan!
Mmmmmmm...

At 220 exactly there is a turning to the left. This cannot possibly be it, it’s no wider than a footpath, signposted Bankapur but seriously 'rural'!!!!

'Sod it! ' There were no other junctions in sight so decided to carry on to Hubli, after a couple of km all the signs for Hubli disappeared.............then up popped 'Hubbali'....come on guys, someone knows what’s going on....is it the Bombay / Mumbai or Bangalore / Bengaluru thing kicking in?

I stopped for directions, Patrik in the meantime decides to take an interest in his surrounding and eat the palms.....boredom is terrible...I was tempted to eat the dog! Anyway the guy told me to drive 'straight-a', yes that’s right 'straight-a’, no not 'straight' but 'straight-a' and guess what? He could supply me with a guide, who decided they would rather sit with his nose against the windscreen than lean back and get eaten by Patrik...still a brave move I thought. 10 km from Hubbali, this old chap gets out, and simply points! Not a happy bunny. I decide Patrik needs a wee, I stop, Patrik just stares at me, I have a wee to show him it’s ok; he's not impressed and gets back in the jeep.

Leaving the NH after about 350km is a relief but the signposting is awful and you feel you are driving through an Industrial Park, but as you leave the outskirts of Hubli or Hubbali or wherever the scenery gets prettier and prettier and when you start to see regular signs for Karvar, it helps! The road is very pleasant especially where you start to drop down onto the coastal plain. There are lots of petrol stations on the section, so no need to worry but not a single shoe shop so I know wifey would not be impressed.

Hitting the NH17 was a great relief and I felt as if I was on home ground, the road into Karwar was quite busy and heavy rain did not help but by the time I got to Karwar the sun had come out and I picked up the fish for Rani (65 sardines for 100 bucks, not bad for a foreigner!). The border with Goa went without a hitch and decided not to stop until I reached home, if Patrik wanted to wee, then he should have gone when I told him!

I arrived at sunset, absolutely knackered, Rani and Bo were happy to see me and for the record Patrik did not wee until 7.oo a.m. the next morning! Tremendous bladder control for a 5 month puppy and when he did wee it lasted for 45 seconds.      


Summary:

Well it took longer than Google predicted, the first 350 km are mind blowingly boring and you def need company or at least a radio. After Hubli the road gets better and better and the scenery greener. Would I recommend this route, well only to those in a hurry and / or any Scorpio driver, (it will keep them off the other routes...fingers crossed)!

Goa to Bangalore Roadtrip: Option 1 'Jog' It

Distance : 600km
Expected Travel Time: 10 hours Actual 13 hours
Vehicle: Maruti Jeep


The Reason:

It just had to be done, there was simply no alternative, to bring Patrik back to Goa and get the Vespa home , I had no choice but to drive.

The Route:

Route? Well Google gave me a choice of three but  were not  particularly helpful other than giving me distance and expected travel time,  what I needed was someone to tell me , that way you don't have to think!

The answer came from a friend who gave me his jeep to use.......'go down the NH17 and turn left at Honnovar, save you at least 40 kms and drive past Jog Falls!' Ok, sorted !

Set the alarm for 5.30 a.m. so I be able to get off at 6 and only have to drive in daylight.

The Reality:

I was looking at the journey with trepidation, nearly 600km at the beginning of the monsoon, on my own, in a jeep without the usual comforts such as Power Steering , Doors, Beyonce or even Radio Mirchi.

The alarm was set but I didn't need it, the storm blowing off the sea was lifting the Mangalore tiles on my roof and dropping them back down, it was enough to wake me and question my sanity.......then I realised that if I decided not to drive, the storm raging outside would be nothing compared to the maelstrom  I would experience  via Vodafone from wifey, so decided to drive......

As I locked the door and said my last few goodbyes to Mr Rani {the cat} and Bo {the dog}, I stepped out into the horizontal rain, mmmmmm........pulled back the canvas door of my home for the journey and climbed in the jeep, 15 paces and already wet through.....wet pants and twelve hours to go!

The Remarks:

Within 500 metres from home:
The 'live' electricity cable  has blown down and swinging precariously 2 meters above the road . The jeep screeches to a halt ..... there is sufficient clearance...... just breathe in and put your flip flops on....... " Hello Sweetheart can't come because there is a live electricty cable across the road'' conversation, is simply not going to work.

still raining......

after two kms:
Get on to the NH17 and the weather brightens, a bump in the road. the Vespa lurches back and forth, I wonder will those scraggy pieces of string really hold my Vespa in place fior the next 11 hrs 50mins?
So what! The road is empty and I can see on the horizon a cloud that is less black than the rest, perhaps its going to be ok.

still raining....

after an hour or so:
The Goa / Karnataka Border is just in sight , its raining less but there are lots of Customs guys on duty and I am accutely aware that the back end of my Vespa is sticking way out,  the back door will not close  and I am without the obligatory red flag!
The Goa chappies called me through....phew......now for the Karnataka lads, I felt a bit like Steve McQueen in The Great Escape where he's on his motorcycle , jumping barricades and trying to find a gap in the border.....except my two wheeler was a Vespa and it was in the back of a jeep and it was 2011 and I was wearing a kurta rather than a leather flying jacket....and the guards weren't armed......."Stop!" The jeep screeches to a halt from a blistering 5 kms per hour, I didn't want to raise there suspicions that I had done something wrong, I really hadn't but I suppose 5 kms per hour was a bit odd....
' What's that?' "Its a Scooter....'' "Papers?'' Oh bugger I knew this would happen. So I had to park and rummage around for the Registration.......you must understand at this point that no matter what, when there is someone representing Law Enforcement around I always feel guilty! I have never done anything wrong but its just a reaction. I remember once driving in the UK and there had been a terrible accident, glass, skid marks, bits of car all over the road and this policeman was directing the traffic around the scene to allow the accident team to take the measurements, sweep up etc...I spotted him miles off, all the vehicles involved had already been towed away but as I approached, all I could see was that he was directing the traffic.....I swear to this day that he must have changed his action. just for a split second and so I followed his directions and stopped , smack in the middle of the accident scene surrounded by bits of wreckage and glass and  very bemused policemen in bright yellow jackets. I wound my window down "What did I do?  I wasn't speeding Officer honest!' ...'No sir, but you may have destroyed vital clues in how the accident happend.....' "Oh, sorry......shall I go then ?'
Back to Goa....With beads of sweat running down my brow...actually that's not right, it was rain running down my brow I take the paperwork over to the boss, I know he's the boss,  he has  bigger badges and a bigger belly. He takes the log book, 'Model?' " Its a '62, I'm taking it home to Mysore". Big smile from Big Daddy, the babies coming home "Off you go!" I nonchalantly run back to the car, throw my document wallet, behind the seat and drive off at a thundering 20 kms per !

Still raining......

After an hour or so....

Still raining......

I drive on over the River at Karwar, very pretty with views out to sea and a sand bar reaching north across the estuary. Drive on past The Udipi Restaurant where the food is cheap and more than acceptable if you are on your own but today I have to keep going. The road is still quiet and its too early to eat anyway, but must make a mental note to stop off at Karwar on the way back to pick up some fish for the cat, it's where you get the freshest of fish at exceptional prices and where all the local shack owners (south of Agonda) come if they are that interested in picking up the best quality sea food for their guests!

Following the road, its a shame I cant stop and really study the coastline, its quite dramatic  and I am sure it would be worth exploring the area more...so much to do ......

I have been travelling for some time now and decide that my friends advice to take some one along to keep me company would have been a good idea....

Mmmmmmm...

A few miutes later there's a chap, well dressed, office type struggling with his umbrella and getting very wet, as I pass he looks up. I know in Europe there is no way I would give anyone a lift but this is India, its 7 a.m. , there cant be any nutters around can there?
'Udipi?' asks the guy, "well in that direction to start with." He gets in, its then I realise the only two words he speaks are 'Udipi' and 'No'....so....... 'You ok? ', "No', 'I'll drop you off at Hanovaar?', 'Udipi'.....anyway he was ok we had a fairly  one sided conversation  but eventually got the knack of just asking the right question...."You aren't english then? ' 'No' ..."Enjoy Shakespeare' 'No'!  Anyway it passed af few minutes and then I dropped him off at my junction.

After two hours or so...

Still raining...

Thr road off the NH17, signposted 'Bangalore' was wide and winding and almost immediately starts to climb up into the Ghats. Fast and smooth and was a very pleasant surprise, the landskape is very pretty and as you climb it gets better and better, before long you are in the clouds..the rain clouds.....very dramatic and wet. The road unforunately is also wet and as you get higher it become narrower and less well kept. When dry and sunny I expect this to be a beautiful drive but still having wet pants and more than 350kms to go it was still a bit duanting!

One memorable  sight was a large lady, just off the bus, carring a huge bag and crossing the road, the rain was bucketing and then I suddenly noticed there was a cat crossing the road with her and actually sheltering under the bag.....what a clever and dry pussy!

There's only one 'T' junction that needed signposts but there's a couple of shops. (Come on what would you expect a T junction has 2 corners!)  and very friendly people in uniform, all happy to point me in the right direction........

After what seems to be forever you start to approach the junction for Jog Falls, I decided to turn right over a bridge, WRONG..this led to Jog Falls which actually is well worth a stop and stay over...but that's for another time. Back over the bridge, you see the water vapour /spray hanging over the falls, quite amazing  and I promised myself to go back.

Back on the main road, which between the NH17 and Shimoga which up until now has actually drops down to single track and possibly just large footpath in width in places, starts to descend and suddenly the rain stops! Hoorah! The road quality also gets better Hoorah! and then I realise its taken me nearly 5 hours to  there! The 'less than 10hr' Google prophecy is simply not going to happen.

Dry and warm ......

The road becomes quite fast and the signs for Tumkur and Shimoga come quick and fast. The landscape has now changed , the terrain is flat with dramatic mountain ranges and outcrops 'outcropping' on regulat basis. 50 kms or so from Shimoga there is a signpost for Bangalore and Shimoga and its simply did not make sense, so bear this is mind, I had no choice but ask someone.

Suddenly as I am talking to a chap on the right, someone flashes a police id card in front of me! OK here we go, the civilian then asks where am I heading and the next minute he is in the seat beside me . Well, he had a police id so off we go, it turns out he is a 'finger print expert'.....very odd.....in the middle of nowhere I am sitting next to a 'finger print expert'?  Be calm. he looks innocent but no ink stains mmmm? But has a 'Peewee Herman' voice  and a 'Mrs Doyle' laugh and I kept waiting for the question "Cup of Tea? '.
It didn't happen  and as we approached Shimoga I was expecting a request to stop to drop him off, no my new friend had decided to stay with me a bit longer....oh! oh!

No need to worry, I just kept waving at people so that if the cops came looking for my body everyone will be able to say "Yes, he gave us a wave , but looked a bit worried! They went in that direction."

My new aquaitance then suggested lunch, very civilised and we stopped at the Swetha Delux restaurant in Tarikere, its a veg restaurant but serves the most wonderful masala dosa, the best I have had in India! Make it a must-do, if you decide to take this route. The owner is Prakash Chandra Hegde 0826 422362. Excellent!

So on we travel eventually reaching Assikere, 180 km or so from Bangalore and where I dropped off my guest.

The road then on has surprising sights, I was astounded by herds literally herds of ponies, all brown, which really baffles me..why is everything brown , loads of donkeys, all smaller than my dog but I am sure they were donkeys.....missed photo opportunity I think and lots of women wearing what seemed to be early 80's Christian La Croix.

The road was actually a bit boring from then on and once you hit the NH it is very boring but you know you are nearly home. Just one word of warning, if you are not careful the road on to the NH actually turns out to be the slip road off the NH for traffic heading South, so be careful and when you go under the NH at Tumkur be sure to turn right!

Not alot to say really about  National Highway driving, anyway you soon arrive  in Bangalore, you    know  simply because you are in a traffic jam, but it is inevitable you will hit traffic if you want to drive from Goa in daylight.

Summary:

Well it took over 13 hours, but the scenery is spectacular and there are lots of small towns and villages and everyone had a smile, there are a few crazy Scorpio drivers but they get everywhere .
So if you  have  the time and want to make the road trip part of the experience, I would really recommend the 'Jog Falls' route.  Ideally a nice open top mercedes would make it perfect but I  was more than happy in my Maruti.....even in the rain.

100 bucks- dinner with a beer!

There are some fabulous restaurants in Goa and restaurants for every budget, here’s an opportunity to highlight the lesser known places, who either can’t afford to advertise or simply don’t want to!

The only criteria is that it falls into the ‘100 bucks or less’ bracket, ideally it’s for excellent food but maybe it’s the ambiance or whatever…you tell me!

'Sex and drugs and rock & roll'.....I really dont think so.....

A few months ago some friends asked me if I knew about a  Monastery here in South Goa, I presumed immediately, as my friends are 'foreigners' that the only reason they would be on a quest to find such a place was because either the monks produced some of the finest cheese in India made from milk from the offspring of a pygmy buffalo and a dachshund, or produced some alcoholic beverage that would be amusing when served with their amuse bouche.
Making a mental note that it probably related to something  being force fed.......I informed my friends that in Canacona we have a Mutt but not a Monastery and then distracted them with directions to a local restaurant where they could savor fresh oysters and a bottle of chilled Kingfisher [2011 vintage]. The Mutt and the Monastery were quickly forgotten…….
Then a few days ago I was driving on the NH 17, perplexed by the oncoming vehicle’s trajectory from a notorious bend was sending it straight for me and that the rear of lorry seemed to coming at a faster rate of knots than the front!……another story……I digress………think Rhombus or in this case the‘ Margao to Karwar Express’ …….I pulled over to the verge and stopped!
I shook my head and looked up to the heavens and there it was a sign!  ‘Carmelites’…..it was not a poster for a 70’s style quartet group, although that’s not a bad business idea for Goa….make mental note.., no, the sign was for their ‘Crib’! Oops bad choice of M TV phrase.
I must admit I was intrigued so decided to take a look….. very nice ……nice gardens…..no one around……very very quiet….perhaps they are just doing ‘Monk-ey’ things..Oops that does not sound right…. so should I just walk in and shout ‘Hi’ and ‘Where’s the cheese?’
Decided that was not the thing to do, I have seen Robin Hood where Friar Tuck continually beats the crap out of people….innocent people I might add, just doing a job to pay the mortgage, send the kids to school and pay the next installment on their new wheel and work out why the wife wants Jimmy Choo shoes, she lives in 16^th Century Nottingham, for Humpty's sake!
So I walk in…..fantastic atmosphere….calm…..peaceful……but no people.  I felt awkward….’How do you do?’ A really normal chap appeared , when I say ‘appeared’ I don’t  mean in a’ Biblical’, ‘Chris Cross’ sort of a way, he just opened the door…….
‘Hi I am Chris and I don’t know why I am here!’ I still can’t believe I said that!

Anyway, basically it’s like a ‘Prayer Centre’, it’s in a lovely location and you can stay but it has to be arranged by your local diocese. The ‘Carmelite’ I met was a really nice guy, I had never met one before!…No brown shroud……no baldy bit…..nothing like Father Ted or Father Jack or the Vicar of Dibley ……had a new Activa and jeans! Very impressive……


So no ‘cheese and wine party’ this time,  just a reminder to me about how diverse and wonderfully entertaining Goa can be, a magnet for mind, body, soul and those wanting a suntan!   

The South Goan Firang

Its 2011 in Europe and the West and actually the same in India, but you wouldn’t necessarily think so if you looked at the firangs walking around Palolem last season.

Palolem is not ‘atypical’ of any particular beach in South Goa but demonstrates my theory that there’s something very strange happening on the flights bound for India.

Every firang is affected by it, whether it’s their behavior or style of dress with the male firang definitely affected more so.

Let’s just take a look:

The female firang is a different shape to the Indian lady, usually larger, much larger but thankfully they have listened to what the tour operator has said and generally wear far more in terms of material and placement of said ‘material’ than they would if they were in the South of France. Agonda is not Antibes!  So taking that into,  consider four ‘nipple covers’ bouncing down the beach one day in Palolem last season did cause quite a stir, literally I believe with some of the locals. This was an odd occurrence but there was also the instance of the large Russian lady wearing a ‘see through’ top and a thong, she was spotted in an aisle in the local supermarket! Luckily the locals just thought a consignment of pillows had been delivered and were waiting to be untied!

But it’s the male firang that has sparked my personal ramblings! But where to start? I have several theories:

Firstly, back to the ‘something in the air’ at thirty thousand feet!’  I am sure they must spray something into the air that removes some of the usual elements of the International jet setting western male.

My second theory is that by some unexplained phenomenon they receive regression therapy on the flight and find themselves trapped in 1967…..

Or , my last theory, they are so far away from home they can really dress as they like without the repercussions of getting beaten up by the lads down the local pub for wearing a pair of ‘jazzy pant’, (basically  ‘ali baba’ style trousers].

As a result of one or all of my theories being correct it’s potentially a horrendous site. The local Goan guys wear jeans,‘t’ shirts and ‘flip flops’, with designer labels: the firangs, on the other hand, wear simply anything, the baggier and more colorful the better. The good thing about this is that it’s brought the generations together, grandson, dad and granddad all wearing similar outfits.

……….and what about ‘hair’? Have I really been away from England that long? It looks like half of the barbers have closed and those remaining only know how to shave heads, so those who decide not to shave their heads invariably decide to grow their hair and inevitably get dread locks! That’s ok but when you see fifty year old white guys with dreadlocks down to their bottom,  it does make you think , and think even more when you see other firangs have gone for the ‘Amy Winehouse’ look and piled them on top of their head! 

So in Goa its official  its either the flouncy ‘flop’ look or the shaved head, the ‘shaved head’ gives you permission to get as many tattoos as you want, these guys probably tried to go for dreads but because they were follicley challenged, failed and are now trying to  find another canvas to demonstrate their individuality!

Talking about “Tattoos’ , my God this is not a fashion amongst the firangs it’s a disease…….If anyone is interested in earning a fortune, learn the art of skin grafting because there are going to be so many people wanting to remove their ‘art’ you won’t believe, you could even charter flights and bring them over here….. And then you could put something in the air supply to make them desire rhino plaster surgery….oops I digress but a great way to make money!


Ok, so back to where we were, although they are now all wearing ‘floaty numbers’ they then decide they need to get some wheels! There’s the practical Honda Activa and the new “electric’ scooter which is very popular with the firangs that have ‘found themselves’. There is also the Royal Enfield Bullet, which brings out the “Clint Eastwood’  for those who are not looking for themselves! They hire the ‘Bullet’ and suddenly they need to look the part…….’Clint Eastwood’ would not wear a beanie hat and jazzy pants, so they compromise. Fortunately , the Goans have seized the opportunity and are happy to sell you a real ‘Clint Eastwood’ style cowboy hat, dashing! Unfortunately the firangs  are usually reluctant to give up the jazzy pants and with their new found persona like to ride round bare chested, not a good look when you are thirty pounds overweight and haven’t hit the gym since College! Also someone needs to tell them that tying your cowboy hat on to your head can also spoil the image and that when you ride along, the front of the hat folds back so they look more like Mary Poppins than Steve McQueen..    

….and before I forget! The older firang in India , feels the sun on his back and  reminisces about the glorious summer of 1972.In those days, everyone wore speedos, tiny swimming briefs which were the fashion for anyone under 75kg. Unfortunately, these guys have now grown up and grown in kg, as a result although the temp is the same as the seventies, their girth isn’t and the sight of fifty + year olds wearing speedos and in some cases ‘thongs’ is enough to scare anyone!

This takes me very nicely to the ‘sarong’, as wore by the male firang. Imagine, a fifty + guy, nostalgic for the seventies and his speedos  is now feeling very trendy, he’s back on form and ready to impress the ladies! He’s seen in the papers that David Beckham wears a sarong on holiday….so what’s David Beckham got that he  hasn’t?  So without any second thought, off he goes and buys a sarong, he will wear it  over the thong , very useful when  it’s time to go to the bathroom, which at fifty is quite regular!  Unfortunately when David Beckham wears the sarong, he has designers and assistants handy to make sure the ‘sarong’ sits perfectly, our fifty year old firang wears it just under his chest , deliberately  so it catches the sweat under his ‘man boobs’, he thinks its discreet….    

what do flying fish, Gregory Peck, Captain Pugwash and 'tastes like chicken' have in common?

 I go for a walk along the beach, its a beauiful day, the tourists have gone and its just me and the surf .  I decide to go round the headland to the next beach. No big deal but then I spot something washed up against the rocks........it looks like a seal, far to big for your average fish,  so I investigate along with three beach dogs who are equally inquisitive.
But its not a seal, it's a baby whale a metre plus in length long!  Even the dogs cant believe it! So what can I do?  I know I will phone wifey.......Why? No idea but seemed the right thing to do and as long as she did not recommend mouth to mouth I am ok.'
'Are you sure its a whale?' , 'Of course I am! ' . 'I have seen lots of National Geographic so I do recognise a whale.....I know my fish!'
The really odd thing it had not been 'Gregory'd' in any way, [as in Gregory Peck- perhaps its before your time], no marks nothing very odd, so what to do....nothing I carry on.

At the other end of the beach I meet a weathered fisherman and we get talking about the 'beastie', he tries to tell me its a dolphin but I know my fish!  He calls over one of his crew, asks if it smells and I ask if he means the whale or his chappie and as i say 'Neither but one may be turning...' off we go back to the scene. He is very keen and walks ahead and I notice how he walks, think he may be 'Rodger the Cabin Boy' as in Captain Pugwash but decide not to think about it.....best not to......

We arrive at the rocks, he proceeds to prod the corpse, sniffs the air and then finally tries to pick it up by the tail, it really is  4 feet tall, with a bulbous head and horizontal tail, its a whale!!!!!
'Its a flying fish!' cries the fisherman. There is no way this thing could be a flying fish , flying fish are streamlined and sleek , this thing  might have been able to come to the surface and 'flop over, very dramatic  but no way could it be said to be flying!

Then it dawns on me why there is so much interest, it does not smell and it looks as if its just been caught.....oh my god.....its tandoor time or perhaps the making of a very large pot of fish curry rice . Bet it tastes of chicken!

So 'Wee Willy' is no more. R.I.P.

Driving in Goa & India PART ONE

Before I start  I need to say that India has some of the best drivers in the world.....they have to be......and for all you professional drivers, please put your eyes back on the road.
 

Lesson 1: 'Right of way'

• 2 wheel drivers have 'right of way'.
• 4 wheel drivers also think they have 'right of way'.
• Bicycles, commercial vehicles, buses, even the lady in our road pushing a vegetable cart and my wife also thinks they have 'right of way'.

Lesson 2: 'Indicators' and 'Lights' 

Indicating left: can mean 

• I am about to turn left , I am turning left and nothing will stop me, I have turned left, I have turned left and forgot to cancel it.
• I have seen you and I am slowing down to let you pass......please note this is rarely the reason 
• 'What does this 'stick' do?
• 'I love my new car, just look at this!'

Indicating right: can mean 

• I am about to turn right, I am turning right and nothing will stop me, I have turned right, I have turned right but forgot to cancel it.
• 'What does this 'stick' do?
• 'I love my new car, just look at this!'
• I have seen you and I am happy to let you overtake.
• I have seen you and I have also seen the car rapidly approaching on the other side of the road but you are really pissing me off, I m happy to let you overtake.
• I have seen you and I have also seen the car  rapidly approaching on the other side of the road but if you are ok at driving you will probably manage to squeeze through. I am happy to let you overtake.

Hazzard Lights: can mean

• 'What does this 'button'do?
• 'I love my new car, just look at this!'
• Its DIWALI

Headlights: can be useful.

Lesson 3: Reversing {FOR LADIES ONLY}

• What' that? Oh no I dont do reversing, I have someone that does that for me

Lesson 4: Maintainance of your vehicle

• Tyres: Unfortunately when you buy your vehicle you will find the tyres have tread. This is useful for stopping but means you get less kms to the litre. Bald tyres have less friction with the road surface and so you can save money! Be frugal, silky smooth will save you loads of paise.
• Brakes: Ugh?

Lesson 5: Driving in severe weather conditions including drizzle and bright sunshine.

• Get home as soon as you can. Dont slow down for anything remember you have the right of way. The roads are dangerous when its raining.

 Lesson 6: Accidents 

• Remember its not your fault!
• Play to the crowd, better acting bigger crowd
• Make sure you do not move your vehicle as it may cause an obstruction to pedestrians
• Have all documents ready...wink wink
• Ensure you phone home and the office, you will be some time...........
• Hit a pedestrian......what pedestrian?  Hit a Maruti.......well just shout alot! Hit a Omni van with 20 people inside ....sorry you are on your own! Hit a Mercedes......sorry you are on your own! Hit a foreigner....JACKPOT!

to be continued......