Maharashtra madness

Mumbai is as harrowing as watching 'Boys don't Cry' repeatedly, beggars line the streets, rabid dogs roam and physically disabled people are rife. It is a strange experience. It is dirty and smelly BUT the overwhelming friendliness of the people that situate here makes up for every bad point that I can think of.

We arrived at the Anjali Inn hostel after a long flight. It's nice, clean and has air conditioning; a jewel in the dim surburbs of Andheri. Room rates aren't cheap but it's worth it. The sweltering heat leaves a constant desire for AC. We spent the first days trying to get used to the Indian culture, as a woman I'm constantly stared at which at first freaked me out, I didn't want to leave the hostel and tried to make the best of what I thought was a bad situation. I still felt bad on the second day but I decided to make the most of my time here and we set out on a mission to Juhu beach in a tuk-tuk - one of the scariest inventions known to man.

I'll take some time out from my dim reiteration of what I have been doing to explain the Indian road system... There is NO system. Instead of traffic lights there are little men with whistles standing in the middle of the road pointing and whistling. There are no lanes, and from what I can make out absolutely no rules whilst driving apart from one: you must beep incessently at every single thing on the road. I have been in both Tuk Tuk and taxi now and after each journey ends you emerge with a sweltering headache from the pollution of the city and the constant beep sound which I think now emerges in my sleep.

As you can imagine, with these road rules and in basically a three wheeled motorbike car with no seatbelts, this was a slightly precarious journey to the beach. Needless to say when we actually got there I realised that I wasn't ready for the SHEER volumes of people that were just, hanging out. I had a bit of a freak out (again) and refused to get out of the tuk tuk. I definitely annoyed Finn, but I'm pretty sure he's over it now!

Yesterday we set out into Mumbai city. I was filled with nervous anxiety. If the city was anything like the suburbs then I didn't want to be there. We went with Jon, our new friend which helped. Two men are better than one for protection from the volumes of Indian men with their big moustaches. We took a taxi ride to Mumbai, it took a long time and it was very very very hot and humid- headaches and sweat all round. As we approached Mumbai the view was different. It looked clean(ish), grand and immense. We took the taxi to 'The Gateway of India' and it was here my opinion changed. We were wandering round the crowds of people when different groups of Indian people kept coming up to us and wanting us to be in pictures with them. They were all so friendly, and so grateful to us that it stopped the awkwardness and became heartwarmingly cute. I dread to think how many pictures of us will be in Indian homes as 'a picture with the white people'. The kids were incredibly cute, I think I have fallen in love with Indian children, I'd like to adopt one eventually. They are absolutely adorable.

After this extreme action, we decided to take a tour to Elephanta Island. We bought our tickets and got on an old rickety boat. The journey was uneventful, my fear of getting kidnapped by Somalian pirates unneeded. When we arrived at the island my fears of India overtook me, masses of people, stray dogs and wild monkeys. After walking through the jetty I realised that the dogs were far too hot to be bothering anyone and most were asleep, and that if they were going to attack anything it would be the numerous goats that were just wandering around eating corn on the cob. (It's India, anything can happen!)

We went to look at the statues in the caves on the island, they were of the Hindu God Shiva in many different forms, very interesting and beautiful. I'd definitely recommend it to anybody. Nothing much else has happened. India is getting more wonderful by the day, and my idea of luxury is constantly changing. I'm hungry now (not for curry) so bye computer world! x

Goodbye my loves.

So, phase two of my life begins. I have left my family and my friends, ready to begin an adventure with my favourite man. I cried on the train, I never realised it would be such an emotional upheaval to leave a loved life behind. I hope to explore new possibilities and create memories that will last a lifetime, so when I'm on my death bed I'll think about the fun times that I've had.

I arrived at Bristol early, I picked up my bags and struggled through the ticket machines, they are small, I with two rucksacks am large, like getting a worm through a needle head. After my initial bravery, facing the women's toilets in the train station nearly knocking out an old woman with my giant rucksack child, I went out to face the world and to try to get the bus to Glastonbury. (tip to fellow travellers, don't ever try to smoke whilst carrying two rucksacks; it's a sure fire way to a collapsed lung.)

I finally got on the bus (after about an hour, misdirected by a horrible lady and helped my a lovely man!) and looked through my little daysack. HORROR, I couldn't find my glasses- cue a panic (a panic for Loz is like a whirlwind emotional breakdown for normal people.) I rang my mum, my sister, my dad, the home phone to no avail. The glasses were missing! The thought of being blind for a year wasn't/ is never enthralling. Sad times for little Lozzie. If you are reading this and have never worn glasses then you have never felt the pain of not being able to find your glasses because you can't see your glasses then listen to me it's AWFUL.

The upside to my long emotional breakdown and travelling story is that I found my glasses in my big rucksack. I have no idea how they got there, I swear a magical elf switched them in the night. My mind has no recollection of packing them in that bag, it just doesn't seem sane. I have also finished my goodbyes and I can carry on with my journey. I can start my big adventure soon. It doesn't make anything easier, but knowing that my friends and parents are happy for me is like a balm on my sad soul.

I have just arrived back home from Glastonbury carnival, a majestical, marvellous, overwhelmingly insane experience. A sensory decadence; basically after today I feel mashed. Today has been mental but goodbyes are nearly over, this is the start of phase two - I have to enjoy it. Welcome to my adventure.

Mum bye!

So after a harrowing last post I am back online, back writing. The end of Phase one has been and gone and Phase two is well under way. My world trip beckons, and I am more than willing to comply. I read an interesting phrase in a book (fantasy of course) which made me feel better about my death phobia/ fears. "Living is a risk," I snapped at him. "Every decision, every interaction, every step, every time you get out of bed in the morning, you take a risk. To survive is to know you're taking that risk and to not get out of bed clutching illusions of safety." (Maria V Snyder)...so true. I want to survive. I feel like a fantasy adventurer, I imagine myself being in either a different reality or in the 1600's/1700's going on a quest, an adventure. This makes me feel so much better about going away, I feel like taking a sword and a bow to protect myself from the evil of the world! This week I've said goodbye to my best friends and will soon be saying goodbye to my family. I've packed my bag (it's pretty heavy), i've sorted everything out and I'm ready to go. I never realised how hard it was to pack your life into a pretty small space. I've spoke to Finn, we're both freaking out but happy and excited! London on Tuesday, I might join in a student riot to begin my new adventurous life (not!) Wednesday is the time to fly over to Mumbai, hopefully the predicted tropical cyclone won't cause too much turbulence...