Spent my last full day in India by wandering up Marine Drive towards the Malabar Hills area. Visited the house where Gandhi stayed when he visited Bombay. It`s now a museum full of memorabilia, including his letter to Hitler suggesting he call the whole war off. I surpose it was worth a try. Getting ready to leave. It will be a shock to get back to London, where no one shouts hello as you walk down the street. I`ve got quite used to it.

After a quiet day in Paniji, caught the overnight train up to Mumbai. It was all incredibly efficient and reasonably comfortable. We all had sheets and a pillow and it was quite soothing being rocked to sleep. Met an Indian couple who were going back to Delhi where they work for New Delhi TV. Their heroes are Lyse Doucet and Manisha Tank. Arrived in Mumbai at 6am, bang on time. It was still dark , so I dumped my stuff at the station and went to explore Bombay waking up. It was amazingly quiet, although all around there were signs that the city was waking up. Got to the Gateway of India just as dawn was breaking and saw the sunrise over the arch. Mumbai hasn’t changed that much since I was last here in 1996. The city is still very different to the rest of India. A real contrast of the haves and have nots. You can be watching children in posh school uniforms play cricket on the Oval Maiden, and suddenly feel a tap on your leg from a three year old beggar who wants money so he can get something to eat. As the sun went down I walked up to Chowpatty Beach and had a head massage. It was intense.

Took a trip out to Old Goa, clinging to the back of a motorbike taxi. It`s the old Portuguese capital, from were the state was run from for a few hundred years before malaria and Cholera forced the inhabitants nearer the coast. It still has some amazing old churches in various states of ruin. One, the Basilica of Bom Jesus, houses the body of  St. Francis Xavier. Apparently the body is incorruptible and you can still see the old boy lying inside. Every ten years they take him out for an airing and millions of pilgrims come to pay their respects. Form what I could see he did look a bit withered. He`s missing an arm as well as it was hacked of and sent to the Pope, where it magically wrote his name. Paul Daniels has nothing on these Siants. There is also a wondrous cross on which the figure of Jesus has been known to move and attempt to speak. No words were heard, so not quite as skillful as Ray Allen, but I guess it gives Emu a run for his money. Walked back to Panjim so have a few more blisters.

Took a trip up the river Mandovi into the backwaters of Goa. very hot but quite relaxing sitting on the deck watching the palm trees glide by. We stopped for lunch at a spice plantation in the interior. Lots of explanation of how different spices are made and their benefits or side effects. Don`t eat pineapple if you are pregnant. The lunch was a typical Goan mean and incredibly tasty, although I did crunch on something which was rather hotter than I was expecting, and was rather alarmed at the steam which started coming out of my ears.

Headed into Panaji, or Punjim, the capital of Goa. It`s quite a shock how small Goa is. I`ve been used to traveling vast distanced in this country to get anywhere, but the trip into Panaji only took an hour on the bus. Staying in a lovely hotel based on an old Portuguese mansion. The whole city has a gentler, laid back feeling that the rest of India doesn`t have. It`s just pleasant wandering the streets looking at the building s and enjoying the Sunshine. You still get hustled by the children, begging you to give them a pen or some money, but it doesn`t seem so insistent.

Caught the passenger train into the former Portuguese enclave of Goa, a couple of hours north. Spending the night at Colva, on the coast. A bit of a resort but with a long wonderfully sandy beach, filled with Indian families on a Sunday afternoon out. According to the local paper I missed a bit of excitement in the mroning as police had to break up am illegal bullfight, however I saw no sign of trouble and it was all over by the time my rickshaw trundled into town.

Gokarna, or Gokan, is an ancient village site on the coast in the north of Karnataka. It`s one of the most holy sites in Hinduism, as it`s where Shiva was reborn through a cow`s ear. Consequently the place is full of Hindu pilgrims taking the waters and parading around the village making offerings. It also has some fantastic beaches which is what brings the western backpackers. Spent most of the day lazing around on the beach, watching the pilgrims and the holiday makers and wandering over the coastal paths. Internet a bit dodgy here so I can`t upload pictures. Will do when I can.

Gokarna, or Gokan, is an ancient village site on the coast in the north of Karnataka. It`s one of the most holy sites in Hinduism, as it`s where Shiva was reborn through a cow`s ear. Consequently the place is full of Hindu pilgrims taking the waters and parading around the village making offerings. It also has some fantastic beaches which is what brings the western backpackers. Spent most of the day lazing around on the beach, watching the pilgrims and the holiday makers and wandering over the coastal paths. Internet a bit dodgy here so I can`t upload pictures. Will do when I can.

Yesterday took a long bus ride over the Ghats to Mangalore of the coast. It was seven hours of some of the bumpiest roads imaginable, my body is still shaking. Fascinating scenery though, We drove through many coffee plantations clinging to the sides of various mountains. I never knew there was so much coffee in India. It is also the home of a sizable Tibetan community so there were lost of monks about. Today took a local bus out to the beach at Ullal. Incredibly hot so I took a dip in the swimming pool which was heaven and very relaxing. Then had to get the bus back. Head up the coast on the train tomorrow.

Gave my feet a rest and hired an auto rickshaw for the day, to take me to the ancient site of Srirangapatnam. I know it is a bit of an extravagance and I could have done it on the bus for a tenth of the price, but hell, you only live once. As it was it cost a massive 20 Rupees for the day, which equates to about 3 pounds. The driver was very friendly, even if he did insist on a slight detour to his house in the back lanes so I could meet his wife and three daughters. Srirangapatnam was the home of Hyper Ali and his son Tipi Sultan, for where they ruled much of south India in the eighteenth century. It all came to an end when the British trashed the fort in 1799. The summer palace is still standing, after the battle it was used as the home of the Duke of Wellington, so they looked after it. It`s full of some interesting relics.