That morning, I woke at 2:30 to a mixed chorus of throaty coughing and a noisy fan, which had developed an irritating click. Jayne was in a really bad way, having given up the evil weed for a while her lungs were now throwing back the yuk they were never impressed about dealing with in the first place. I looked at her sympathetically, her cough sounded awful and I was wishing it would go away.
At six o’clock I ceased contemplating the ceiling and decided to enter the grimy, tiled room that just about passed as a bathroom. I turned on the shower, held my hand beneath the freezing blast of water and waited for it to warm up. After a few minutes I realised the water wasn't going to get any warmer and I was obviously a fool to think it would. A cold shower is the standard lot for any backpacker in India and there was no reason to think that was going to change now. Tentatively, I took a sharp intake of air, stepped under the shower head then dealt with catching my breath a dozen times before becoming comfortable with the whole thing. The shower had shaken me from my state of drowsiness which I was pleased about, as it was a beautiful morning, cold but none the less beautiful. The room was slowly acquiring an orange glow as the sun leisurely raised itself within view of our window. We packed the bags, checked out of Hotel Greenview then headed for the station planning to arrive early to avoid the queues.
We needn't have worried, there was only a handful of people there and buying the tickets was easy once Jayne had taken advantage of the ‘Women Only’ queue. The train pulled up a little after eight and we wedged ourselves in amongst the passengers sleeping on the seats and luggage racks. The first leg of our train journey to Bombay was underway and it looked like it was to be a crowded one.

Sunrise at Margão Station, Goa