UDAIPUR
In between bouts of screeching brakes grinding to a halt, crazed kids running and screaming up the aisles and pot holes that appear to have their own gravitational force, inspiration struck me: why be a backpacker when you can be a flash-packer?
My bus, pre-booked in Delhi was a 'luxury' sleeper, consisting of 2 rows of seats running down the centre, above which are boxes which can only be described as transparent coffins, only tall enough for people to lay down or at best lean back on your elbows.
Thankfully getting the long straw and having the chair it was with some guilty amusement that I watched into the glass, with the people and their possessions swooshing around like the contents of a washing machine on spin cycle, especially when the gravitational pot holes strike.
This was a mild comfort to a less than mild hangover until said inspiration struck.
It was then with much delight, after checking into my hotel room complete with big Tv and 4 poster bed, I punched in my cerdit card details to confirm my flights for the remainder of the trip, with not a train in sight. Flash-packing at its best.
I guess I won't really be a backpacker again unless the big bad GFC catches up with me or I request a P45 and have to count each and every Rupee.
It was a serene time discovering Udaipur with the nagging horror of the trains out of mind, even the ridiculous traffic and street sellers didn't seem to get to me. The place itself boasts the lake palace used for the Bond film Octopussy.
Being quick on the uptake, 20-30% of the places have some kind of reference to the movie whether it be 007, James Bond these are plastered across guest houses, hotels and restaurants all the hope of securing custom through this loose association.
No one has really riffed on the title of the movie itself which is a surprise, or perhaps my childish sense of humour with what you could call such a place doesn't work with the locals.
So, departure lounges, reasonable coffee and people calling me sir await at the airport en route to Mumbai. A nice change from arctic winds, dodging projectiles and a constant feeling of confusion and panic that I'm on the wrong train.
I've been looking forward to Mumbai as much as anywhere on this trip so I'm hoping the mix of modern India and the colonial version live up to expectations.
In between bouts of screeching brakes grinding to a halt, crazed kids running and screaming up the aisles and pot holes that appear to have their own gravitational force, inspiration struck me: why be a backpacker when you can be a flash-packer?
My bus, pre-booked in Delhi was a 'luxury' sleeper, consisting of 2 rows of seats running down the centre, above which are boxes which can only be described as transparent coffins, only tall enough for people to lay down or at best lean back on your elbows.
Thankfully getting the long straw and having the chair it was with some guilty amusement that I watched into the glass, with the people and their possessions swooshing around like the contents of a washing machine on spin cycle, especially when the gravitational pot holes strike.
This was a mild comfort to a less than mild hangover until said inspiration struck.
It was then with much delight, after checking into my hotel room complete with big Tv and 4 poster bed, I punched in my cerdit card details to confirm my flights for the remainder of the trip, with not a train in sight. Flash-packing at its best.
I guess I won't really be a backpacker again unless the big bad GFC catches up with me or I request a P45 and have to count each and every Rupee.
It was a serene time discovering Udaipur with the nagging horror of the trains out of mind, even the ridiculous traffic and street sellers didn't seem to get to me. The place itself boasts the lake palace used for the Bond film Octopussy.
Being quick on the uptake, 20-30% of the places have some kind of reference to the movie whether it be 007, James Bond these are plastered across guest houses, hotels and restaurants all the hope of securing custom through this loose association.
No one has really riffed on the title of the movie itself which is a surprise, or perhaps my childish sense of humour with what you could call such a place doesn't work with the locals.
So, departure lounges, reasonable coffee and people calling me sir await at the airport en route to Mumbai. A nice change from arctic winds, dodging projectiles and a constant feeling of confusion and panic that I'm on the wrong train.
I've been looking forward to Mumbai as much as anywhere on this trip so I'm hoping the mix of modern India and the colonial version live up to expectations.
posted by aboutabwoy at 4:30 AM
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