Once a year Hindu's in India celebrate a spring festival called Holi, it is the festival of colour. Made popular by Karl Pilkington's idiot abroad See here It would require a 24 hour train ride from Goa to Pushkar luckily Will and I had only decided to actually take the train up 1 hour and 10 minutes before the train left the station, 1 hours drive from our present location. We threw our stuff into our bags and sill feeling a little open minded from the nights craziness before I hailed a cab and we headed off at breakneck speed. The Taxi driver had a cup of tea on the dashboard and was munching on a fried egg sandwich. He asked what train we intended to catch... once we explained the situation, the need to be there within an hour he stopped the car at the side of the road... "hmmm...1 hour to get to the station ?" "Yes" I said... his tone went serious "ok!" and with the speed of a high velocity bullet the sweaty short moustache sporting taxi driver picked up his cup of tea and took a couple of slurps, and another bite of his sandwich. I looked at Will thinking it was a joke. He took the final bite of his sandwich and a couple of noisy slurps of his tea and threw the rest on a passing cyclist before rejoining the road without a turn signal or a casual glance to see if anything was coming. We were off again at break neck speed.
On arrival at the station we couldn't get a seat on the train, there was however standard aka, cattle class (literally ...cattle) Will and I tried in vain to gain entry to the women's carriage, and even the disabled carriage with 4 mongs shouting loudly as we spoke to their minder. Needless to say it took a 50p bribe to one of the ticket checkers to 'find us' a bed in First class and a bed in A/C 3 Sleeper. It was great. The scenery changed from tropical looking forests to large stretches of arid grassland / desert overnight. A few hours later and we were in Pushkar. We were greeted with the usual offers / best price taxis / tuk tuk drivers and after a bit of chatting to a local we headed for the local bus station and for the next 40 minutes we hung out of the doors of the bus taking pictures of the crap at the side of the road. By now you would have thought I be getting used to the rubbish but I'm not, in fact I'm getting annoyed by it all, I don't understand why people will clean their house from top to bottom only to throw everything outside the front of it. There is no pride in the state of the country.
Will and I did the usual and found a hostel argued about the cost, found something that they will do cheaper, like let us sleep on the shelves and threw our bags in so we could start talking crap to whoever was near. We met up with some random travellers that we had seen about 1,746 miles away back on half moon beach surprised by the coincidence I suggested we found somewhere that sold beers and found out where the following days festivities would be taking place.
That evening the square held a large fire and some traditional dancing, it was also where I found out how to get on to the roof of one of the local shops so I could get a better view of the madness and shout obscenities in the local language.
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On arrival at the station we couldn't get a seat on the train, there was however standard aka, cattle class (literally ...cattle) Will and I tried in vain to gain entry to the women's carriage, and even the disabled carriage with 4 mongs shouting loudly as we spoke to their minder. Needless to say it took a 50p bribe to one of the ticket checkers to 'find us' a bed in First class and a bed in A/C 3 Sleeper. It was great. The scenery changed from tropical looking forests to large stretches of arid grassland / desert overnight. A few hours later and we were in Pushkar. We were greeted with the usual offers / best price taxis / tuk tuk drivers and after a bit of chatting to a local we headed for the local bus station and for the next 40 minutes we hung out of the doors of the bus taking pictures of the crap at the side of the road. By now you would have thought I be getting used to the rubbish but I'm not, in fact I'm getting annoyed by it all, I don't understand why people will clean their house from top to bottom only to throw everything outside the front of it. There is no pride in the state of the country.
Will and I did the usual and found a hostel argued about the cost, found something that they will do cheaper, like let us sleep on the shelves and threw our bags in so we could start talking crap to whoever was near. We met up with some random travellers that we had seen about 1,746 miles away back on half moon beach surprised by the coincidence I suggested we found somewhere that sold beers and found out where the following days festivities would be taking place.
That evening the square held a large fire and some traditional dancing, it was also where I found out how to get on to the roof of one of the local shops so I could get a better view of the madness and shout obscenities in the local language.
The pre Holi party
Small WMDs were detonated during the festivities
A photogenic local
Members of Team Miles
Blue Steelistan
20 seconds after stepping out of the hostel
Having a civilised spot of lunch.
The view from the rooftop
Shirley with her eyes wide open... sorry, too easy.
"I'm number one!"
The 'smoke' is actually paint dust in the air.
A random handsome chap
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Madness...
A view of the rooftop from the magic view bar / restaurant / viewpoint.
Some happy party-goer.
Paint level - Zeus.
Note the disguised can of err...nothing officer.
Poor lad is a right state. They even Holi'd his feet.
Nothing like a Breakfast, lunch and dinner Falafel to help ease the paint induced chemical burns.
Three days later the ink still hadn't come out.
