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Published: February 18th 2007
It was the only Cathay Pacific flight of the trip and it was by no means the best. The inflight system was outdated and the stewardess was just about the most unfriendly we've experienced. "Fish or Veg?" "Fish for me" I said, "and Veg for Claire"." Fish you can have, and YOU, you can wait" she snapped at Claire! And wait she did, about 25 minutes after I'd finished. So that's it then, we've nearly circumnavigated the globe on some of it's leading airlines and LAN of Chile get the award for best airline and we were not expecting that.
Anyway, descending into Mumbai at 8.30pm we gripped hands and tried to prepare ourselves for the onslaught of the senses in India. Particularly fired up for the Airport exit we scuffed out of the luggage claim, booked a pre-paid taxi and stepped outside to... well nothing. It was the most sedate airport exit we've ever experienced. To test it we even stood for 5 minutes right outside the main crowds and not one person approached us. Armed with the registration plate of our taxi we had to walk along a huge row to find the yellow and black car and
Mumbai taxi
Unsurprisingly known as a Bumble Beein shock at the ease of it all we sped through chaotic traffic, swerving to miss pedestrians and other cars and down a long bypass flanked on either side by low rise shacks and stalls. Horns blaring incesently, a block long line of colourfully clad Indians queing for water from a fire truck, Teasing glimpses of grand and ornate buildings looming in the dark and people, everywhere people. With traffic grease on our faces we checked into the City Palace Hotel opposite the CST railway station and a team of army fatiqued porters grabbed our luggage, opened the tiny lift door which played jingle bells and took us to a clean but poky single room. Despite being exhausted we still had to wait around for an hour before someone brought a flimsy mattress so I could sleep on the floor but with a jug of Chai we took in the view of the busy juntion below and thought how elated we were to be in India having felt that Thailand had sapped a little of our travelling drive. This was more like the different world we came to see!
The following morning we walked across the bustling precint in
the first hazy rays of sun and amidst streaming lines of Mumbaikers clutching brief cases and dressed in smart shirt and trousers on their way to work. In the CST train station we found our way to the tourist desk upstairs and to our delight managed to book an overnight sleeper train for the following evening to Goa. Our first Indian meal started out as Toast and Jam but when a jam sandwich arrived we plumped for Puri Baji, puffs of light bread with spicy potato, red onions and a cool dip. Food was going to be a little different here.
Armed with our onward tickets we set off on a walking tour of Mumbai down towards Floral fountain and under the shady sidewalks past stalls selling CD players dodgy neck ties and watches. Surprisingly it didn't feel unsimilar to the streets of La Paz, Bolivia. Around the corner at the edge of the Oval Maiden the domineering structures of The High Court of Mumbai and the University Clocktower loomed in their Venetian Gothic glory. The two beautiful buildings overlook the Oval Maiden, a long Central Park style oval of grass which is where we headed next and where
Oval maiden
One of the more serious games in Mumbai's central park dozens of games of Cricket were taking place often confusingly just meters apart. The land where the park sits and everything to the West was reclaimed in the 1940's from the Arabian Sea and the contrasting Art Deco buildings are demonstrative on their shorter lineage. Heading back through the parks centre and alongside the University building we stopped briefly at the Art Deco India Assurance Company building masked behind shoddy scaffolding and continued south for a sneaky peak in the cool and dusty members only David Sassoon Library.
Further South and across the road we stopped at Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya (formerly a slightly easier Prince of Wales museum) and its cream dome tower and intricate facade. Our walk then took us to The Gateway of India a grand Arch commemorating Colonial triumph but was symbolically the exit point of the last remaining British regiment in 1948. Whilst there and with Christmas soon approaching we saw a man selling enormous balloons so thinking they would be fun to have in Goa we bought a pack and headed to the waters edge. Without really thinking about it and on a whim having just learnt of its existence we paid
and boarded a boat to Elephanta Island where ancient sculptures lay in vast caves. Unfortunately about 5 minutes into the 1 hour ferry journey we realised we didn't have enough money on us to pay the island entrance fee! So we travelled an hour there, stepped off to look at some fishing boats being painted and the impassable entrance gate before catching the hour ferry back and feeling rather stupid. Back on land we zipped across the city by Taxi (Bumble Bee) to Chowpatty Beach, a deep sandy bay full of courting couples, families and Mumbai's poorest street dwellers. We sat for a while watching the sun set over the retreated shore of the Arabian Sea before heading back to the Fort area for a Mexican meal of all things at Relish. Walking back to our hotel by dark we were shocked to see hundreds of stalls lining the roads selling thick woolly jumpers and hats when we ourselves were roasting hot.
The following morning we checked out and stowed our bags before returning to the Oval Maiden to watch Cricket and for Claire and I to do some sketching of the High Court and University Clocktower respectively. All
the time we drew and especially Claire, we were surrounded by inquisitive Indians hovering over our shoulders and doing what we would soon find out every Indian does, hocking huge snotshots from the bowels of their guts onto the ground. After a relaxing morning we travelled to Market Square which was wall to wall with people, cars, bikes, carts, cows and it was mayhem. Amidst thousands of stalls selling dreadful garish porcelien figures and plastic wind up cars lining the roads, we tried to find some jewellery stores but had to abandon that idea after a seller hounded us for several blocks and we gave him the slip. The only thing we did buy was some tinsel for our Christmas bungalow before we decided to return to the Gateway of India as the previous evening we'd realised we'd been stiched up by the balloon seller as he sold us small ones, not big ones. On arrival it wasn't long before we were surrounded by people selling balloons, asking to have photos taken with us and asking us for money to buy baby milk powder. Getting rather flustered we bought some more balloons and immediately found we'd been done again and
were sold this time, Medium Sized balloons and that the seller had clearly scarpered! By now we were so wound up and somewhere, amidst the rage at trying to find the seller and the harrassment of others, Claire's camera was taken from my grasp. AAhhh! Fuming with anger we fruitlessly paced about before deciding that the camera was gone for good and we'd have to report it. In Colaba Police station the kaky green uniformed officer with obligitory moustache questioned us and implied we were lying about the theft. Eventually we stood our ground and got him to file a police report of the incident. Deeply upset and angry we returned to our hotel area and briefly toyed with the idea of buying an immediate replacement before deciding to accept the loss.
This being our last night in Mumbai we went for comfort food in the shape of a massive bacon burger and beer at Macondos cafe before gathering our belongings and heading for the CST station to catch our 11.50pm train to Goa. At the station there were hundreds of homeless Indians outside and in and people moving in all directions carrying huge sacks on their heads wearing
Saris and Mundhus and one lady who was clearly insane walking around shouting with no clothes on whatsoever. After what had turned out to be an appalling day we climbed into our very basic top bunk sleepers as the train rolled out of Mumbai for the journey South. Save for the harrassment and on reflection, organised theft at the Gateway of India, we found Mumbai to be a surprisingly pleasant city, full of wonderful buildings and steeped in arresting History. If you are not stupid like us and steer clear of the balloon sellers then it wouldn't be beyond the realms of possibility to love Mumbai but for us, well we've never looked forward to the beach so much...
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