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Post by onlyMark on Nov 15, 2014 12:55:39 GMT
tod, generally the curries aren't too hot for me. It can depend a lot on what you order. On average they are hotter than in the UK, say a grade up or so, but for me not too bad at all and I'm not keen on particularly hot curries anyway. Further south in India they tend to be milder anyway - so when you do come here(!) head for the south first.
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Post by onlyMark on Nov 15, 2014 14:25:27 GMT
Well, what a palaver. But I’ll come to that in a bit. Last night was spent at the Lion Hotel in a nondescript place called Rajula. The hotel ended up being not too bad at all. Just down from my window was a back yard of a house. For half an hour or so I watched a grandmother being taught by her granddaughter (at least that looked about the ages) how to do things on a smart phone. The funniest was when the young girl wanted to take a photo of the old woman and then presumably let her see it. Well, the old woman adamantly refused. The girl had to take one of the wall instead. I set off after a breakfast of idlis and sambar. Idli – “….is made from ground rice or rice flour mixed with ground urad dal (lentils), salt, methi (fenugreek seeds) and water. The mixture is allowed to ferment prior to being steamed in an idli steamer. Sambar – “Sambar is a lentil based vegetable stew or chowder based on a broth made with tamarind” I had a long morning drive on a not very good road around the last third of the Gujarat coast. Snapped a quick shot of something. Why? Because it stood out – and the reason it did is because it was bright white and clearly looked after. Unusual here. Just before lunch I reached a place called Sihor. It was more or less on my way and I went there on purpose to have a look around one of these. A report should be done when I get back – My curiosity sated I drove for a little while along a very flat area. Saw a bit of wildlife. They are flamingos, honest. Couldn’t get close to them though – I crossed over several rivers, each having their share of fishermen – I had to drive quite a long way until I found a place to stop for my (late) lunch. This is a truck stop place but a class above the side of the road hole in the wall dirty, grimy places. This even had toilets. Though you wouldn’t want to use them to be honest – One problem I had though was that there was a menu, but not written at all in English. It is quite normal even in the cheap joints to have it in a language I can read and understand. Why? Because there are so many languages in India that even they themselves can’t understand too much in different States. English, when known, is country wide. So, I looked at the menu whilst the waiter hovered nearby. I closed it in a decisive way, offered it back to him and said, “Thali please” gambling that they had one. The waiter nodded and walked away. Phew. Here is what came, and I know I’ve succumbed to posting pictures of food again but a large part of what makes India is food . There were three types of curry, one was lentils I know, none of them were particularly hot/spicy, rice, three rotis, a papad and the usual onions. What was also on the table was a cold glass of buttermilk somewhere – I ate up and paid the bill………… 80 rupees. Approx 1 Euro, $1.30, £0.83. Ridiculously cheap for someone like me/us, but a fair price for the locals. I carried on driving and me, being the smartarse decided that the small road I was supposed to go on to get to the city I’m in would just be too slow. So I took the big one 20km further on. Mistake. Covered in roadworks, heaps of trucks, blockages and all sorts. So I end up at the hotel and hour later than I thought I’d be. I know I’ve harped on before about car parking, but if you advertise you have it, then have it. No, this one doesn’t. Not really a problem as I’ve slipped it in a bit of muddy ground round the side. It’ll be fine. I check in, somewhat hot, thirsty and dusty, now the usual photo and form filling takes place and half way through it a really pretty young and obviously wealthy Indian women walks up to the counter and engages the young male receptionist who is supposed to be sorting me out. He has stars in his eyes and he drops me like a hot potato, nods for a minute at her and then disappears into the back room. I’m left standing there leaning on the counter and I turn and face the woman. She says, “Are you checking in?” “Yes” “Oh sorry, I thought you were waiting for someone” “No”. “I’ll try to be fast” (She could play fast and loose with me anytime, I thought) “I have a better idea” said I just as the receptionist re-appeared. I said to him, “This young lady says it is ok if you continue to check me in and she will wait her turn” as I cast a smirk at her. She gave ground and stepped back. He did what was necessary and sent me away with the door card. Room 103 it was (note the past tense). I enter to be greeted by water running through the bathroom ceiling. I turn around, walk back downstairs to the desk where the woman is still talking but sounds like arguing. I place the card in front of the receptionist and as she pauses for breath I jump in and tell him the room is flooded and I’d like a different one please. He then drops her to attend to me. I loved it. Anyway, he sends me off with a lad to another room. However, my problems aren’t over. Firstly it takes three trips back to reception to get the internet working (the woman had left by then) plus, I’d still got the same key card when I first went back to the reception for the internet problem but now it was a different room to the first one. Hence I couldn’t get back in. Two additional trips in between sorting out the wifi…… and I’m in with a cup of tea and my feet under the table. Tomorrow no sites to see, just a drive to ‘re-position’ myself.
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Post by tod2 on Nov 15, 2014 18:16:22 GMT
Oh Mark! I love it, love it, love it You are one streethotel smart cookie! I've got to confess that as I was reading your saga to my husband (sitting behind me re-installing his new computer) my thoughts and visions of that pretty Indian woman turn to my younger sister. She is tall and vivacious with long blond hair and butts in wherever and whenever she likes. For instance - she will park her jag over two parking bays just so nobody will open their door onto her car....they might think of scratching it tho C'mon, we want some bad snaps, really B A D ones! I wonder if it would phaze them if you started snapping away saying its going on the internet Better not - they might poison your curry!
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Post by onlyMark on Nov 16, 2014 10:04:29 GMT
Question for anyone. Maharashtra, Goa, Karnataka and Kerala are the states on the west coast. If you were going to spend a couple of days relaxing by the beach (or close to it), where would you stay?
tod, I may have behaved a little badly but I do admit to having a chip on my shoulder where people who think they are privileged are concerned.
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Post by onlyMark on Nov 16, 2014 11:36:51 GMT
Chaos, death and destruction today. I ran most of the day down one of the major roads in India. Nearly all of it was two or three lane highway. I came from a city called Vadodara and now I’m in the outskirts of Mumbai. I’m not going to go into the centre, I’ve seen what I want to there over the years and fighting the traffic is not something that appeals to me enough to want to do it again today. Indian roads are dangerous enough as it is, but when you also throw in the factor of higher than normal speeds it becomes quite perilous. The drivers, especially the truck drivers, for some reason decide that being in the very outside lane is the best place to be. The slower they go, the more they feel it is the number one option. A lot of today was on a three lane one, so the trucks will stick to the middle, lane 2, or the outside ‘fast’ lane, lane three. The motorbikes, cattle, trikes, carts and the rest stay reasonably in lane 1. That leaves us cars who have to weave in and out of all three lanes to try and make some progress. Add in those vehicles who decide that going the wrong way is a good idea, especially the tractor I met in the ‘fast’ lane coming towards me as I rounded a curve, who was happily trundling along, music playing, whilst myself and several other cars swerved around him. He was completely blind to the danger he was causing. What the mental attitude of these drivers are, I’ve no idea, though driving a lot here and in Egypt makes me understand it is just ‘normal’ for them. They think nothing of it. So, apart from numerous arse puckering moments, today has been quite steady. I managed to buy the tax for the car for the new state I am in, Maharashtra, though it was a lot more expensive than Gujarat. I’ll leave you with this……… taken within the first 50km and then I gave up, there were too many. A truck driver who fails to understand the concept of a concrete slip road divider – And another one, on the apex of a left hand bend, who has clearly no grasp of the relationship between friction and centripetal force –
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Post by onlyMark on Nov 16, 2014 12:16:52 GMT
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Post by tod2 on Nov 16, 2014 12:42:14 GMT
Mark - what idiots as in every country. The shacks you have shown us are EXACTLY like the shacks that surround my city. No difference whatsoever! I wish I could photograph them but I may have to devise some incognito camera man.....riding shotgun.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 16, 2014 17:09:00 GMT
Those shacks are the same everywhere. The Roma shanty towns in the Paris suburbs are identical and look just like what I have also seen in Jakarta or Manila. When you have to build your dwelling out of wood scraps, cardboard and/or sheet metal, the end result is always pretty much the same.
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Post by nycgirl on Nov 16, 2014 19:46:36 GMT
Love the photos of the swaths of colorful saris spread on the ground. What a pretty sight. And the food looks scrumptious, and such a bargain!
I think you comported yourself quite well at the hotel. Once a woman cut in front of me and my husband as we were waiting in a lengthy line at a bar. He threatened to put his gum in her hair. Not the most mature move (but effective).
Yikes, it seems like you come across a nasty traffic accident every day. And they seem so preventable, too.
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Post by onlyMark on Nov 17, 2014 15:18:09 GMT
I hate the traffic in Mumbai so I set off a little earlier than normal anyway. My usual set off time is 7am especially when I’m staying in a town. This is to get out of the place before the heavy traffic starts as I’ve probably had to battle my way through it once already entering. Some distance down the road I was stopped by the Police, they had spotted the Delhi number plates. Often I have been flagged down but it generally happens that they only just spot me because of the traffic and I tend to drive past. This time though they had plenty of time as I was out in the countryside. I wound my window down, gave a big smile (not easily done sometimes) and said in my best English voice, “Hello! Can I help you?” He wanted to see my driving licence, so I gave it to him. That is a bit of a lie really. He did ask for it but I never give out my proper UK or German licence, I always give an International Driving Licence. I do have an Egyptian and a Philippines licence as well which tends to confuse them. But, I have a selection of IDL’s, also known as an IDP which I’ve gathered over the years. They only last for the one year anyway so I have to keep getting new ones. I always give out an out of date one first. If they notice and say so then I apologise profusely and give the valid one. This policeman didn’t but he did ask me to bring the documentation for the car with me back to where two others were waiting. They examined it all and then the following long conversation took place, “You must pay a fine” “Why?” I asked. “This vehicle is a permit vehicle and you must wear white”. “What?” “You must wear white” “Who, me?” “Yes” “Why? Just me or all the passengers as well?” “You are driving so just you” “I don’t understand” said I, “Why must I wear white?” “It is a permit vehicle” “So the driver of a permit vehicle has to wear white?” “Yes. In Maharashtra, yes” “Show me another permit car and the driver is wearing white” We waited a couple of minutes or more at the side of the road. A number of vehicles went past, many with the yellow commercial number plates I have, and I kept pointing to them and asking if that was a permit vehicle, no driver I could see had white on. There was no reply until one of them repeated, “You must pay a fine, you must wear white” I stated, “Well, I’m sorry but I cannot. My religion says I can only wear white when either my father or mother dies”. “You must wear white” “This is the law?” “Yes” “Show me this law” I said. “Show you the law?” he asked. “Yes, you are policemen on traffic duty doing traffic stops and you should carry with you a copy of the rules and regulations in your vehicle. No?” (I’m full of bullshit like that) A hasty conversation took place between the three of them. The ‘bad cop’ said again, “You must pay a fine. It is not a bribe” I raised my eyebrows and said, I wouldn’t think so at all. I think you are upstanding officers” “You must wear white” I got tired of this and said, “How many foreign drivers have you seen? None probably, all the drivers are Indian, yes?” “Yes” “The regulation, that you don’t have with you, states that drivers must wear white whilst driving a permit vehicle on the roads in Maharashtra, but the drivers are all Indian. So that means only Indian drivers must wear white. I am not Indian so it doesn’t apply to me” and shook my head slowly from side to side. They paused and spoke a little together. The obviously senior of the three said to me, “Where are you going?” “Goa” I said. “Then goodbye and do not go too fast” I thanked them and sharply made my exit. Only……….. to be stopped again about ten kilometres further on. I did the smile thing again, handed out my expired IDL, waited, the policeman flicked through it, handed it back to me and waved me on. I was driving through the countryside, as I’ve said. It looked like this – I then spotted something I’d not seen before. Some men building boat. I stopped and approached them and asked if I could take some photos. One man said I could, but it would cost me 5000 rupees (£50) I said, “I would like to take photos of it, not buy it” “How much you pay?” “Fifty rupees” “Four thousand” he negotiated. “Forty rupees” He paused, then “Three thousand” Me – “Thirty rupees” He paused again, then “Two thousand” I said, “Twenty rupees. No, look I will give you one hundred rupees (£1) for many photos” “OK” he said. Yes, I know I was playing on his lack of understanding. I know I was taking advantage of him but, he knew perfectly well how much he asked for in the first place. If he hadn’t asked for a ridiculous amount because I was a foreigner I might have been more amenable. I do sometimes get ripped off, in fact quite a few times over the years, but I’m quite cynical to it now. Give me a ridiculous sum and I’ll give you one back, plus I’ll even go more downwards each time as well, just to confuse you. So, after all that I took some photos. First I’ll mention that the boards the boat is made out of are ‘caulked’ by using cotton fibre (I think it was anyway) – Which is twisted and packed into the gaps – Sealed with a tar/pitch – Then secured together using nylon rope. You obviously have to make sure every last inch is sealed with the waterproofing – There will be some nails in there somewhere as well but precisely where, I don’t know – Notice the wooden dowels at the side of the bag of curved nails? I think they are driven into the holes that were made to fit the nylon rope, plus joining other bits as well. They would be sealed in, cut off to size and sanded down. Does the phrase, “Spoil the ship for a ha’pence of tar” mean anything now? They used no power tools at all – They said they worked from 8am until 1pm, have an hour for lunch and then keep on until it gets dark (5:30ish at the moment). It will take them about a year to complete it from start to finish. I then made my way to the hotel for the night. Not a bad one really. It’s a local one but at least I have a full wall in the bathroom.
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Post by mossie on Nov 17, 2014 15:42:32 GMT
Very entertaining encounter with the local police who were obviously out to make a quick buck.
Also the boat building which is reminiscent of Viking and earlier practice. The caulking material is oakum, another very old term.
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Post by onlyMark on Nov 17, 2014 15:56:53 GMT
I should know that. Plus there is a town called Oakham near where I used to live.
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Post by tod2 on Nov 17, 2014 16:32:00 GMT
Once again a very interesting and entertaining account of your travels! Mark, may I ask you a question? It is this: You were a policeman , not so? Why can't you get some document stating this - as either an ex-cop or even a current one. Won't this let those arseholes....and they certainly are, give you an all-clear much sooner? I think some people refer to it as 'Pulling Rank' which is very common here. As a matter of fact, what you just described with the 'wearing white' business is something that happens to drivers in Mozambique. They don't ask you to wear white, but have some scheme up their sleeves to intimidate you.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 17, 2014 18:04:34 GMT
Your story reminds me very much of my experience at the Cambodian border. All of the guidebooks said "just give them $5 for the 'yellow fever pill,' throw it away and don't waste your time." But I don't like to throw my money away. The authorities took my passport and said that since I didn't have the international vaccination certificate, it wouldn't be possible to let me into the country until I bought the magic pill. So I told them that since I had my Cambodian visa issued in Paris rather than at the border like 95% of the foreigners, they had told me at the Paris embassy to please report to them after my trip if anybody asked me for any money for that reason and to be sure to write down their names. I added that I had already written down their names since they were wearing name badges. I waited another 15 minutes and then they returned my passport to me and waved me through.
This of course cost more than if I had just paid the damned $5 because my prepaid transfer to Siem Reap was long gone when I finally got through, and I had to pay another $10 for a spot on a truck which arrived at around 20:30 even though all of the guidebooks also said "make sure you are not on the road after dark." But I really did not mind because there was no way I was going to pay the $5 to the 'health' officials.
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Post by questa on Nov 18, 2014 3:24:26 GMT
Mark, you are my kind of traveller! I also tend to resist paying "fines" to officials, usually by doing the old, scatty lady who can't understand what they are saying. I also loved my time in India with marvels and mayhem around every corner. The colours of the saris blow my mind when a group of women go to the temples. I was told the saris can be draped in many styles for young girls, students and married women etc. I have not been brave enough to drive overseas...usually use buses or motorbike taxis. In the 'postcards' board is a thread called 'Decor' about a hotel I stayed in while in Delhi, Mark may like it.
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Post by onlyMark on Nov 18, 2014 11:07:08 GMT
Tod, yes I was. I still have my old ID card, called a Warrant Card though photo is many years out of date. It isn't something I've though about bringing with me or using. I'm sure in some circumstances it could have an adverse effect. I know I was very reluctant in my time to grant any favours to anyone, more to the chagrin of the Chief Superintendent of a nearby force who I stopped for speeding whilst he was off duty and one of the first parts of the conversation was "Do you know who I am?" I did bend the rules a bit for nurses though.
K2, I am easily one wwho would cut my nose of to spite my face.
Questa, I'll have a look.
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Post by onlyMark on Nov 18, 2014 13:46:24 GMT
Today I don't have anything of value to report. A steady day to end up in northern Goa. Bought another car permit. Cheap this time which surprised me a bit. The hotel I stayed in last night, in Ratnagiri, was fine and dandy apart from this morning they said that neither of my credit cards worked. I know they do and I've just used one now anyway. I've been this evening for a walk, had some fish and salad, that was good apart from getting bitten to buggery by mossies. I've bought some spray and at last, some toe nail clippers.
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Post by tod2 on Nov 18, 2014 16:49:58 GMT
Only today I heard that my hairdresser's son & family were going to Mozambique between Xmas and New Year. I quized her as to how they thought they would reach their destination with harrisment. Not a problem....They have all the bribe money ready for the "runners". OK - what are "runners"? They are the men that run up the line of vehicles in a queue for the border post. You give them the dollars - they give you a piece of paper. When you get to the border you are waved through - No problem , as they say. Sickening but it's a business like any other. Just run on very very crooked lines... India sounds just like Mozambique. Where in the world can a tourist travel without these LEECHES praying on us?
Mark - keep up the good work!
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Post by bixaorellana on Nov 18, 2014 19:13:35 GMT
Ah, Mark! I think I am even more stunned & admiring of your valiant audacity in this adventure than I have been of your other intrepid & often alarming ones. India is high on my list of experiences that I know I could never make myself have, but I remain fascinated by its extreme exoticism & the pull it has on so many travelers. Very interesting & very fun report. If you enjoy the "permit vehicle" type of encounter, you must come to Mexico. I have to say that my favorite part so far is the really enthralling section on boat building. Wow -- that's like being taken back through the centuries.
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Post by breeze on Nov 18, 2014 20:16:00 GMT
Mark, if you were to return to your old trade of taking travelers overland, I think you could fill the vehicle with anyporters. I for one would go along just to see you in action in this kind of situation.
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Post by mich64 on Nov 18, 2014 21:04:36 GMT
Mark, did you have any doubts that you would not win the argument with the police officers?
My husband always has an IDP when we travel, this past September was the first time the rental agency asked to see it.
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Post by htmb on Nov 18, 2014 22:00:17 GMT
Mark, if you were to return to your old trade of taking travelers overland, I think you could fill the vehicle with anyporters. I for one would go along just to see you in action in this kind of situation. I'm sure the ONLY way I'd consider this type of trip would be with someone trustworthy and experienced. This continues to be a fascinating report, Mark.
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Post by questa on Nov 18, 2014 22:39:00 GMT
Tod2...just think of it as another trick or treat.
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Post by onlyMark on Nov 19, 2014 3:44:17 GMT
Tod, I've been through borders where although it does rub me up the wrong way, the quickest and most efficient way to pass through is to employ a 'facilitator'. In fact we had official ones, especially getting in to Egypt and Jordan who we always used.
Hi Bixa, the permit thing but have to put up with. I presume from what you say it is the same where you are? I was thinking about going to Mexico this time actually but found circumstances led me back to India.
mich, I always have doubts. It is just a balance between what inconvenience they could cause and how far I could push it. With a group, years ago, I'd be inconveniencing them as well so I hardly went too far, but on my own and with plenty of time I take it further. Partly it is because I dislike Police who try and go above their authority. These actually weren't I've found out. It is true that in Maharashtra taxi drivers were white. My car is classed as a taxi.
breeze, htmb, questa, I would lead a group again but only as a favour and for fun. Not to be employed as such as the expectations nowadays of some people end up giving me a bad attitude towards them. Over the years I did it their attitudes developed from having an adventure to not putting up with anything or doing anything for themselves and being highly critical of the 'service' they were receiving. One example of an attitude I couldn't put up with was a girl who treated the truck and equipment very badly. Often losing things, not putting things away like the cooking kit and not being bothered if things were damaged. I told her several times to take more care. I asked her about it. She replied, "I treat it like when I rent a hotel room. I trash them so I trash this as well". I became quite angry (received one of my numerous official complaints from it as well) and told her that if she carried on in the same way I will throw her off the trip. My reply to her saying, "I've paid for this. You can't do that" was, "I am god on this truck. I can do anything I want" She calmed down somewhat but it was a short three week trip anyway so I didn't have her too much longer after that. The longest trip I used to do by the way was about 6 months with the same core of people with others joining and leaving for sections of it.
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Post by bjd on Nov 19, 2014 8:50:34 GMT
Although I never go on organized trips, other than an occasional day thing when it's simply cheaper and more convenient, I think I would willingly participate in an overland kind of trip with OnlyMark and Questa, (because they are the ones who take the most exotic trips). At home I tend to be impatient, hate standing in lines, etc, but have noticed that on long bus rides (5000 km in S America), I can spend hours just looking out the window and don't get upset about anything.
That said, the worst on organized tours is that at least one person is always late, always the same person has to be waited for and that is something I continue to get annoyed about.
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Post by questa on Nov 19, 2014 11:50:47 GMT
I used to do run day tours from my café in Bali. The manager would drive and I would be the story teller. We asked first what the group's interests were then tailor the trip to those. Onetime 3 frazzled adults came with 6 kids aged around 10. Adults had seen all they wanted to and just wanted us to entertain the kids. We took them to my friends little village where they were engulfed by village kids. They explored rice fields, chased birds from crops, made banana leaf hats, made and flew kites and splashed around in the little river. The adults sat in the shade, had a few drinks and dozed. They all said it was the best day of their holiday.
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Post by onlyMark on Nov 19, 2014 12:22:22 GMT
Had a steady drive down some nice roads for a few hours, not too much traffic yesterday. The roads were like this – A small reminder – The odd obstacle or two – And a few nice views – Drove to my accommodation down here – This morning I had a breakfast of omelette and toast and went for a walk. Some shots of the general area – The Russians are here – And if you ever need some petrol for your motorbike (or a crown, vaneer or botox) – I made my way down on to the beach and had a look round – So, that all looks well and good. Beach bars, lifeguards, scenic activity with boats and things, plenty of nice sand, interesting sea etc etc. However, and this is what always bugs me about a lot of places I go and a number of reports I’ve done. Litter. Just behind the beach there is a dump, and by just behind I mean not more than a few yards – As I walk to the beach I meet up with these two ladies who have collected litter from it – I watch them as they then dump it back where I’ve just been – If it wasn’t for the tourists then there wouldn’t probably be any collection anyway. Here is the irony. Just at the side of the dump is this. It reads, “Department of Tourism” and “Foundation Stone for the beautification of Candolim Beach” – I’m moving on tomorrow, not far, just down the coast for a couple of days again.
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Post by onlyMark on Nov 19, 2014 12:25:51 GMT
Questa, when you do that kind of job all day every day it is easy to lose sight sometimes of those little things that can really make or break an experience for others. Something I may easily forget is something that can stick in the mind of someone else for years.
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Post by tod2 on Nov 19, 2014 12:39:47 GMT
Another eye-opener Mark but not for me. What we refer to as 'Indian Town' is covered in litter. I can only put it down to a bad education because school children of today still thrown down chip and sweet packets wherever and whenever. Taxis seem to have a policy of "Don't throw your litter in my vehicle - chuck it out the window".
Super photos by the way!!
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Post by Deleted on Nov 19, 2014 15:17:29 GMT
Garbage no longer decays the way it used to 100 years ago. The entire world is being buried under plastic; some places just have more formal ways of dealing with it. Vancouver is cleaner than Mark's beach, but it's filthy compared to Paris or Singapore.
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