"In-gerr-land":- the glory and the shame!

The first phase of our migration was a short trip to UK. (It should have been a week, but Ryanair - bless 'em!- moved the outward flight) Prices to fly direct were appalling so we went via Madrid, which gives us a residents' discount for the first leg and plenty of low-cost choice for getting into Gatwick. The down side is - of course - hanging around Barajas airport; but this is not unpleasant. We were inconvenienced by Easyjet refusing to take our bags early because there was an earlier flight and "our bags might get confused". Mmm! Anyway we survived this, and the hidden cafeteria to get onto a completely full but on-time flight, a rapid reclaim, and a fast train to arrive at the Travelodge earlier than expected!

(A warning aside about hand baggage:- Over the last few  weeks we have seen the boarding gates at several airports for Easyjet and Ryanair. Both have issued promininent warnings, but we have seen every time frequent panic, arguments and unexpected payments by those that have missed them - or thought they would get away with it! The gate queues are inspected, and there must be only one bag per person - no separate shopping - no separate handbag, however small! Anything dodgy is tested in the gauge - and in the case of Ryanair weighed - then it's pay up or leave it behind! This is not without stress!)

 

This time we were very lucky indeed with the weather, and the grudgingly packed heavy clothes remained untouched! We visited Balham twice in relation to the rented house (and the chiropodist and Bonmarche). For three nights we were with Neil and Maggie, where the garden was glorious. To make some recompense for always - these days - being the guests we had arranged that we would do an OPK dinner party for them and Paul and Cheryl. (That's Other People's Kitchens - just in case!) Therefore on Maundy Thursday we took a train to London Bridge, took a short walk along the Thames, had a drink at a pub full of both tourists and champagne-swigging office workers, and then "did" Borough Market. Unfortunately (!) it was so hot that it wasn't safe to buy too much that was perishable. We made posh tapas, and had a wonderful time, with much jollity, noting the fact that all three men present have now experienced forced early retirement from public service, and emerged the other end to find what they want!

On Good Friday we went back to Croydon Travelodge and in the evening took a tram over to Morden for dinner with Mick and Jenny of Paleochora fame. Another delightful soiree, starting in a loved garden, and ending up with too-much wine!

On Easter Saturday we went uptown again - this time for a walk around some favourite spots! Leicester Square was a shock:- completely closed off for some Olympics-related nonsense, and on the South Bank there is an exhibition celebrating the Festival of Britain 60 years age. This is great fun, with a "beach", a huge "urban fox" on a roof, and a row of beach huts designed and filled by a range of artists. As we sat outside the NFT we heard thunder, and there followed a quick dash in the rain back to Waterloo and thence to Croydon!

But the sun was back by Easter Sunday morning, and we had arranged to meet Chloe in Brighton. Predictably we were not the only people choosing to go there on such a nice day, so trains were completely full, and we had to let several continue without us! When we left the station we first saw a phalanx of police and a cordonned-off forecourt. Mystery! Then we heard the chanting. On one side of the station area was a group of flag-waving English Defence League thugs in a pub, and on the other (well outnumbering them) were anti-fascist demonstrators. The police were funneling the public between them, so that they could get down to the seafront. There was serious police presence including many on horses. It seems this was all in honour of St George's Day. We sheltered in a pub by a window and saw the march proceed down the hill. All the stereotypes of racists were there! Ruth hurled some mild abuse, and a police officer made eye contact. We had a small interchange about them not being the target - this time at least! Mercifully the number in the march was rather pathetic!

Chloe joined us and we went for our planned lunch. This year the Easters of both Western and Orthodox calendars coincided so her Greek housemate Giorgos was looking for  traditional Easter lamb. Chloe located this excellent taverna on the seafront, and we feasted on tender lamb bought by the kilo, lemon potatoes and tsatsiki. Yum! We were joined by Charlie and her older friend Heather. Needless to say the place was full of Greeks. Afterwards we walked along the promenade and the beach, both of which were as full as we have ever seen them. Then we took a taxi to Chloe's house to dump the warm clothes, and back to the station! On Monday (a UK Bank Holiday) we finished off the shopping and went slowly to Gatwick, where we killed time till check-in and then had a very pleasant meal at Cafe Rouge. We arrived at Girona airport  just before midnight and walked to the handily-located Hotel Vilobi, passed the night and next day picked up Yvette from her hibernation.

Shades of Blues

Once again Carnaval was followed by the Blues Festival.  It was a little more restrained this year - with no seated (paying) concerts, but there were two nights of free three-act shows in the big plaza, and two afternoons of "street blues" around the town.
And the sun shone! Chloe was with us for 11 days. She had brought 12 academic books with her and had to spend a lot of time on her dissertation, so not much beach time, but she got the tan she was after, saw some good music and ate some good food - both out and at home. She came with us for the Friday night free music. We spent both nights listening at La Plaza, which has become a favourite tapas bar. This is behind the stage, but we could sit down, which was important after the injury! All the acts were excellent, especially Red House and The Brew (from Grimsby)! A charming incident was meeting there John and Dave :- old chums that we often meet only at airports, and who cook at Cordon Blue. They were full of the fact that they were just back from UK (Rochdale) where thay had got "married". Next day Ruth was on the prowl for suitable artwork for a card, and found it.

Our final week saw some lovely sunny weather, which brought out the boats, and indeed there was a small regatta in and around the harbour. Chloe left on the Wednesday, so we all went to the airport with Eileen and waited in the outdoor bar, roasting! We then had a few days to close down, although a policy decision has been taken that we will not normally let out the apartment, so there was less clearance and cleaning to be done, and we can store the bikes inside, All much more mellow than for previous departures! Bob caught "the cold" which meant no gym, and some missed goodbyes before we left on Sunday 17th. It was a good six months, with few problems, better weather and the two little breaks of GC and Goa. Nice!!

Ice Packs, Some Feathers, Delayed Sardine and a Surfeit of Tapas!



What's a Grecian urn? 3 euros an hour!

 To everyone's surprise the prettifications of Corralejo Old Town had been almost completed by the start of the carnival - bringing to an end almost two years of mess, false starts and very silly ideas.

The area between Calle La Iglesia and the showground (near Blue Rock and Rougues' Gallery) has caused particular speculation. In the autumn an ornamental arch was erected and removed within 48 hours, and two plots clearly destined for something decorative would change shape from week to week. Finally we have acquired an urn which is a water feature that occasionally dribbles, and a beached boat that is filling with litter. Apparently the original gratings round the urn were stolen! Meanwhile back up Iglesia (the "Cobbled Street") they have removed the very impractical planked patches, which were warping and cracking as soon as installed, requiring hardwood repairs.



The Straight Queen 2011



After the excitement of the first weekend Carnaval has a programme with a specific focus each day:- schools, "Third Age", tourists, young children, and of course the Drag Show. We gave all but the last a miss, but went out on the Tuesday evening and missed any free sightings of the performers through lingering over dinner and then seeing a superb rock band at San Miguel. After a "comfort stop" at the Rock Bob abandoned both Ruth and half-glass of wine to go home to bed.  Shortly after this Ruth left and was hailed by Freddie on his bicycle. He is a stalwart of Africa's chinguito, who is an elderly Gran Canarian seafaring widower with an "extrovert" manner. In trying to escape Ruth misjudged the newly installed kerb and fell heavily into the road! Freddie helped her up. It was a slow and painful limp home. One foot was bruised along the side and the other knee (never good) was agony. Wednesday was spent with ice-packs and virtually no mobility. On Thursday she had to use taxis up and back in order to present an extra radio programme; but sitting for over three hours with the mind on other things did a world of good, and by Friday walking was possible. If we had a euro for everyone who has said something about "taking more water with it", we would be rich indeed!

So to Saturday and the Big Procession, for which dressing up is expected, and largely implemented by the female residents, but shunned by many a lily-livered male! Ruth spent all of  4 euros on some trimmings and feathers, downloaded children's templates and got colouring with felt-tips for her head-dress. We started out at La Luna to meet Dave, Dee and Alex lavishly costumed  as two Vikings and a "Love God". We watched the procession as usual from American Burger, and it was better than last year, but still showing the impact of the crisis! Later at the Rock there were many Cleopatras including Elaine sitting imperiously as a blonde one,  Roman soldiers of many ranks and a good few sheets!

Overnight the clocks went forward. We all knew that, but someone at the council had forgotten it when drawing up the schedule for the Burial of the Sardine. (Carnaval being vaguely linked to Lent has been about as late in the year as it could be!). As a result, the published time for departure was far too early. It would not be dark for the fire and fireworks.  The solution? Say nothing, just let tourists hang around in confusion.  and encourage the drum bands to continue playing! It did, however, result in a better photo of this year's fish and the mourners! Fireworks? Allegedly back up to standard, but we missed them due to a badly timed meal

But the excitement was not all over yet! For months we have been talking to (Cakes) Eileen about the possibility of a "Tapas Trail" around town. We feel that tourists would be more inclined to visit some of the excellent tapas bars if they had their hand held on the first occasion - to see how it works, learn some vocabulary and realise that they would be welcomed. Last Tuesday we joined a trial run. Eileen had produced a guide and made the arrangements. There was she, us, Tom and Cristina from the El Sol newspaper - which has recently changed hands and is going to sponsor the trail - and two genuine "punters" from Manchester. The plan was to visit five bars at 30 minutes each.  First stop was Pincha Cabra and we had a generous selection but began to run late, then off to Casa Manolo, where the dishes just kept coming, and Norteno - ditto, and then Marcelino - by which time we were groaning at each new dish - even the beautiful chunks of fresh tuna! It was as if they were competing with each other to be generous. We finally arrived at La Plaza about two hours late, and he had to be restrained from bringing on more than just cheese. The "Just a few papas?" moment was reminiscent of Mr Creosote. It didn't need detailed feedback from any of us to establish that the real thing will be rather less fullsome.

Carnival :- How Civilised!

 The end of February - after our return - was warm and very pleasant, but was followed by some horrible weather, with particularly cold evenings. We spent a lot of time planning future migrations; and then it was Carnival time! As usual the theme was well known, but the posters with programme were not published until two days before the start. As you can see the theme was "Ancient Civilisations", so the staff in charge of hotel sheets were worried!

First prize for festive decoration went once again to Claire, the Sandras and helpers at the Blue Rock. Those pillars were a masterpiece! On the night of the opening procession it was very cold, and the marching bands exposed less flesh than normal, but by the first Friday the weather had improved, and it was pleasant sitting outside The Rock late at night watching passers-by who had been to the "Murgas" show. A magic interval was when two middle-aged men went past identically clad in Lycra matador outfits (complete with augmented codpieces). We cheered "Ole" and asked if they had lost their bulls. They then produced from under their capes battery-operated bulls the size of chihuahuas, switched them on and performed "veronicas" and other moves!

Here on the left is one of the performers the next night, when they were both back for the fancy-dress dance. This time they had some of the regalia of the Policia Local, half-mast trousers, odd socks and very unpleasant false teeth. Ruth refused a kiss! He approched the other (witch) punter and demanded to see her papeles. She gave him a screwed up tissue! There was a wonderful array of dress. Particularly memorable was a band of "mummies" each one carrying their tomb on their back, and a line of slave girls tied together and dragging their restraining boulder behind them! Julian at the Rock looked worried when later a group of (genuine) Guardia Civil walked past and we cheered and complimented them on their costumes! See more of the glories of the night on this short slide show!

Taking the Long Way Home

Well, this is how we got home 22/3rd February:
04.30 IST - picked up by taxi at Panjim hotel
05.00 IST - arrived at Goa Airport - far too early! Foul coffee and a rat sighting.
06.30 IST - Go Airways flight - full
07.30 IST - Arrived Mumbai domestic terminal. Found how to get free shuttle between terminals, which is done with huge security and within the airport grounds.
09.00 IST - Got inside the terminal to find closed BA desks

10.15 IST -  Checked in and told our planned seats weren't going to work as flight was nearly full. Changed them! A very long wait in the terminal, but beer at non-Goan price and all the shopping opportunities at joke US-dollar prices! Watched a lot of Bollywood!
13.40 IST (= 08.10 GMT) - BA flight on 777 but older plane, and this time virtually full. Bliss and rapture: Argentinian red wine flowing freely after 3 weeks wine-free! Rest of service excellent too, though only a choice of 200 entertainment options this time.
18.00 GMT (= 23.50 IST) - arrived Terminal 5. A bit of a queue at passports but out in time to visit M&S Food, and have two fast pints of Adnams!
19.45 GMT - Out into real world - cold! First rate National Express coach service to Stansted
21.30 GMT - Shuttle to Hilton, supper in room!
04.30 GMT - Shuttle to airport, quick bag drop, wait with baited breath to see which gate was in use!
06.30 GMT - Ryanair flight - almost full - to Fuerteventura. Disgraceful passenger behaviour from shouting and swearing "white van man" golfers! Service not quite what we had experienced the day before!
10.20 GMT - Arrived Fuerteventura
11.00 GMT - Dave Windows picked us up and we went home with a diversion via Lidl's!
12.30 GMT (= 18.00 IST) - arrived home!

Total elapsed journey time: 37.5 hours

"It's Panjim - but not as we know it!"

..because its proper name now is Panaji!

With a few days spare before flying from Mumbai we pondered visiting other coastal places or spending time in Mumbai itself; but decided we were not in the mood for serious Indian city, and wanted to get more of the old Portuguese colonial flavour, so booked a taxi to the state capital, and took advice on a place to stay for two nights.  Ellie recommended the Afonso Guest House, which is very well situated for wandering round. It took about 1hr 40 mins in the taxi on a Sunday afternoon, and you pass over one of the two huge rivers that define Panaji's geography.

The hotel is the heart of the Fontainhas area, which has numerous colonial-style buildings in little streets, and pretty Catholic chapels. Our room was on the ground floor of the old town house, and was comfortable enough with a good bathroom, although hot water is obtained by ringing a bell! There is a fair amount of domestic and street noise, as one might expect! In the morning there is breakfast with fresh Goan white rolls on the roof:- very altmospheric!. For the price one could go to a bigger hotel, and the owner (now widowed) runs a tight ship - especially in refusing unsecured bookings; but we would stay there again!



Bob suffered deja vu!

In theory the sights of Panjim can be covered easily on foot. In practice you need to watch your footfall all the time, as the pavements are in a state, and the gullies are very deep. Also crossing the road is a nightmare, with motorbikes and tuk-tuks appearing from nowhere. A landmark, and very impressive is the Church of the Immaculate Conception. We visited the market - which is in a new building and very colourful and well organised.  There are nearly as many mobile phone stalls as spice vendors!



Some of the buildings suggested in the guide as points of interest were being renovated, so yet more verge jumping and mad road crossing! A distinctly weird statue in a prominent position celebrates Abbe Faria - one of Goa's sons, and allegedly the father of hypnotism! This remains in place, whilst that of Vasco de Gama, formerly atop a column in the municipal gardens, has been removed since independence! 

In the river there are several large steamers moored and used as casinos, and there is a popular evening river boat trip.

Wandering around is obviously a hot and sense-battering experience, so we sat for a long time in a bar beside the river near the ferry, which plies continuously back and forth

As well as the wide river Mandovi there is a narrow creek, and we ate on both nights in restaurants with balconies overlooking it. Firstly we went to a very modern and European-friendly place on a corner by the bridge. As we ate we saw smoke rising from a spot halfway across and were intrigued:- road accident, roasting chestnuts?? It was in fact part of a shrine set up in the balustrade, with both Christian and Hindu iconry. A very Goan phenomenon!

On the second occasion we were initially the only customers, and they lit up the tandoor specially for us. It was an excellent meal including the Goan dish Chicken Xiacuti - based on coconut milk. Later a group came in speaking Spanish, and we got a bilingual conversation under way. It turned out that the two girls were flying like us the next day to Heathrow with BA.

So a good few Honeybees were consumed before we retired early for the monster return journey - see next post! 

So - Goa - the verdict:

Plus points:

• Exquisite beach and sea
• Warm weather
• Mellow fellow tourists (mostly)
• Cheap everything
• Varied cuisine
• Tolerance towards alchohol etc
• Friendly workers

and the other side:- not much, but includes

• Price of getting there, visas, jabs and insurance
• Need for eternal hygiene vigilance
• Insensitive tourists brought in on packages (especially from Russia)
• Absence of decent wine
• Beach sellers & beggars various

We will be back!

..and in our free time..

This really was a "chill-out" holiday rather than serious travelling, so we spent most days on the beach. Palolem is not a working town:- you can buy basic holiday needs from kiosks on the beach (include major displays of toilet rolls), or the range of shops on two roads, but there is not even an ATM for cash. This meant a couple of walks to the outskirts of Chaudi and back, jumping in and out of the verge. One Saturday we went to the town proper in an auto-rickshaw (tuk-tuk) to see the fruit and vegetable market. We also located the Post Office, tentatively putting our postcards into a rusty cylinder, but it seems they did arrive! There is also a "supermarket" which was worth a visit! We looked into a recommended breakfast place and decided it was too dark and crowded, so tuk-tuked back to the German Bakery - a place rather different from our German Bakery on the prom in Corralejo!

The Live Music scene is interesting, and also not dissimilar from Corralejo's, with the same artists appearing at different bars on different nights - and some of them very good! These bars are all on the beach, and some light a bonfire when there is activity. On our first such evening we were joined at the table by a young, well-off and well-educated Goan couple. and found ourselves invited for a full-day boat-trip and picnic on Honeymoon or Butterfly Beach in a few days' time. It was a very generous offer, and we got excited about it, but then got worried about the etiquette, and so pulled out citing (truthfully) our need at the time to be close to a toilet! We will never know what we missed.

A couple of bars away from the beach show films at night. All the usual suspects were shown, but we feel we selected the perfect match for a Goan bar in Mr Nice at "The Steak House". The film is projected from a laptop onto a sheet, and you watch it whilst eating your steak, Thai noodles or whatever, with the moon in the clear sky, and - later - not unrelated smoke and smells!

We did not, predictably, visit Silent Noise at Neptune Point, but heard the stories! Punters are frisked for MP3's, drugs and alcohol, so the clever way round pricey drinks seems to be to hide an innocent-looking bottle of spirit-laden Coke in a spot outside. Ah, to be young again!!