PORBANDAR

After a restful two and a half days crossing the Arabian Sea, we at last reached India. Porbandar is a very poor city and it's only claim to fame is that Mahatma Gandhi was born here. Our visit was severely restricted, as we were caused to wait in the harbour for two hours while they cleared another ship from our berth and we were told we must leave earlier than planned, by sunset.

As we drove by ramshackle bus into Porbandar, we could not hear our guide, because he spoke so fast, the air conditioning was very loud and the amplifier could not be turned up. But we saw a dramatic contrast to Muscat. The buildings are all old and in a state of complete disrepair. There were lots of people around, many seemingly just standing and staring. The roads are narrow and crowded and little more than dusty tracks.

We stopped at what we were told was the most important temple in the city. We were bidden to take off our shoes to go inside, as is the tradition in a sacred place. It was small, dusty and had nothing of interest - distinctly unimpressive.

Clodagh and I then had a hair raising ride in a tuk-tuk to Gandhi's birthplace. There was an incredible noise of the continual hooting from the intermingled melange of cars, bikes, scooters, tuk-tuks, people and many cows. Everyone seems to go on his way oblivious of anyone else - the death rate from road deaths must be very high!

The visit to Gandhi's birthplace was also unimpressive. His family was moderately wealthy by the standards of 19C India. They lived in a few rooms of a fairly grand building round a courtyard. Again, we had to remove our shoes to crowd inside the small dusty rooms, in which there was nothing to see. In the courtyard there were displayed photos from Guandi's life.

Then another tuk-tuk ride back to our bus and to The ship.

Minerva left Porbandar leaving us to discuss over dinner our introduction to India and then to bed to dream of scooters and cows and bikes and that incredible noise.

Robert Cole