Beach bums hit mumbling and bumbling in Mumbai!

What a clown!

Greyrocks is in Palolem, South Goa! We are wallowing in the laid-back lifestyle that successive knee operations have prevented for two seasons! To say we are glad to be here is to drastically  understate!
We are enjoying our fifth day here after a week in Benaulim (next post!); but first let's get the New Year stuff out of the way!
With little optimism about the coming year we drowned our sorrows on New Year's Eve with lobster and the like at Marquesina. We kept the pace slower even than was offered in order to be still there at midnight. Thus we acquired our cotillion including traditional grapes and some decent cava  with which to celebrate with complete strangers and some familiar waiters. Somehow we managed to miss the three sets of fireworks that allegedly happened but made it to The Rock a bit later. We returned there as usual for New Year's Day brunch in the sun, and cooked a mighty fine dinner of duck!

After the breakthrough with the bike on the penultimate day of 2017 Ruth aimed to use it for some light and safe practice each day, but en route to the gym one day the chain came off  and at one stage we were both without wheels, with one at each of the repair shops! Bob's wheel did not arrive from Tenerife in time for our departure so it sits chez nous in a sorry state until our return. Thus trips to the spa and other japes have been on foot or by cab. So. also, were some very tedious visits to the Health Centre where staff holidays and absence are causing some frustration, but not on the scale of UK!!

On January 5th we were enquiring about the awaited wheel when there was much tooting and loudspeaker music and two open top cars went past:- one with the Three Kings and one with their wives (it is usually pages!). This the sole impact of "Reyes"  on Greyrocks this time round and we were pleased to resume normality and prepare for fun our way!

Getting here to Goa from the Canaries was a bit of a trek! Door to door took forty hours of elapsed time, with two cars, three buses/coaches and three flights. We were travelling - as explained in a previous post - via Heathrow, so we began with a standard Easyjet flight to Gatwick. This was full and slightly delayed but went well and we were in good time for the booked coach to Heathrow. It was cold and dark and we had dressed - as best we could - for this. We were feeling quite pleased with our tight planning and headed up to Terminal 5 Departures, hoping to check-in with a nice real person, dump our bags, enjoy a pint of ale and travel light to the hotel. But the best-laid plans... No - in spite of what we had read online - we could not check in till the morning - let alone drop off baggage, and the land-side "pub" we have used so many times has closed permanently! We carted the bags back down to Arrivals. raided M&S for snacks and wine, and went outside (cold) to locate the Hoppa bus we needed. There it was at the stop, but Ruth got the name of the hotel wrong and it went off without us. A 30 minute wait! Still, it was a good choice of hotel and we did get some English draught beer (albeit unfortunately chilled!) in the bar and a good night's sleep.

Next morning things started to go well again! The BA flight was completely full in Economy. but we had chosen seats in advance. Neither the meals nor the in-flight entertainment were remarkable, but time passed, the crew were excellent and on a visit to the galley for a wine top-up Ruth was told some wonderful news! Our onward flight was to be with Jet,because on a previous trip she had her luggage sent separately to the domestic terminal. thus easing the whole transfer palaver. But the BA crew explained that Jet domestic flights now go from the flash new Terminal 2. Bliss and rapture!

Bob had not seen the new airport in all its glory with its works of art, wide corridors and beautiful carpet. We were last of the plane by design and ambled along aware of the hours we hd to kill. We had papers showing our e-visas had been granted. We got into the wrong queue, then found the right one, which was monstrous and barely moving. We soon saw what the problem is:- biometrics!!



The theory is that one (nationals of the majority of foreign countries) turns up with the e-visa, a digital facial image is captured, passport shown and fingerprints taken on a device. The visa is stamped into the passport and one proceeds to baggage reclaim etc. But....!! To exploit an Indian stereotype the machinery must have been commissioned from some politician's nephew who likes IT!! The fingerprint kit does not work! Each applicant was taking an age at their appointed desk, which was littered with discarded wipes used in numerous attempts to get an acceptable image from the pad! Ruth had also had a glimpse at other people's printout and they looked different so the tension was high! When we got to a desk Bob went first. There was no issue with the paperwork, the photo was taken and he speedily received the stamp. Ruth got through the hurdles up to the fingerprints. "Press harder". "Press less", wipe, wipe wipe, ... "Just two thumbs. then!". Recursive loop! Eventually she got through and got the stamp, but what of Bob - un-scarred by the finger thing? "Oh, Sir, you are over seventy - it is not necessary!" Ever since we have been wondering what logic lies behind the exemption. Answers on a postcard!

Meanwhile a plane load of French are around us lacking paperwork and with a tight connection! We heaved vast sighs of relief and proceeded to baggage reclaim. We still had hours and we didn't have to change terminals. What could go wrong?

Spacious, airy reclaim area - but no mention of our flight! We - and many others - had been stuck too long in Immigration! Finding the discarded bags was another nightmare, Customs X-ray was relatively organised (although there was a brawl somewhere!) and then we looked for Domestic Transfers :- chaos! No signage, melding and serpentine queues and luggage everywhere. People with minus ten minutes to their next flight! The belt had malfunctioned. Someone suggested Level 4 might be better, so off we went to find more of the same but with hope! Nice Jet women did something on a self-check-in thingy and all we had to do was drop the bags off! Half an hour later we were processed and could get cash from an expensive ATM and enjoy a beer (4 am local) in the new Domestic bit which has amongst other retail therapy outlets a Clarks Shoes and a Wagamama!

A Jet employee wandered round making frantic flight calls (as usual) far too early and the flight was late taking off, but they do feed you on Jet, the bags arrived at Dabolim and we were nearly there. The pre-paid taxi office used to be outside, so out we went to discover it was now inside and you can't go back in! So we had to use an unlicensed man who expected us to jump down an embankment to his vehicle! Somehow we made it by 7.30 am or so to our chosen oasis of calm and charm.

Whoever said "It is better to travel than to arrive" has not been though Mumbai!