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Published: August 23rd 2008
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So our day in Mumbai started early when we arrived into the train station at 8am from Goa. We decided to avoided all tourist destinations and chose to do western things to remind us of home. The long and short of it is that our day was not that interesting but we did learn quite a bit about India.
How McDonalds survives in India So a McDonalds Meal is no way to start any day, but it’s been 23days of curry and we were hankering for a change. Not only that, I wanted an answer to a question I had been asking myself for the last 3 weeks! How does McDonalds, who have made their name through the (poor quality) beef products they sell, crack it in a country that doesn’t do the whole beef thing?
It’s actually very simple when you think about it. Substitute all beef products for chicken! We have the McChicken Sandwich, they have the McChicken Sandwich. We have a Quarter Pounder, they have another McChicken Sandwich. We have the Big Mac, they have the Chicken Maharaja Mac! The best thing was, even though they had removed the beef and replaced it some sort of chicken product, the Maharaja Mac tastes just as bad as a Big Mac back home. We were lovin’ it!
Cultural differences in the Cinema In the early afternoon we nipped along to the local cinema to catch a film. Despite the recent release of the new Bollywood blockbuster ‘Singh is Kinng’ (responsible, I presume, for the Indian chart topper of the same name), we opted for Batman.
It turns out that the Indian custom is for the national anthem to be played before every film and all attendees are required to stand up for this. This caught both of us off guard. Even more surprisingly, Julie was the one person in the cinema who seemed most resistant to standing up. Luckily, the security guard in attendance ensured she complied with the requirements. It also turns out the Indian cinemas also provide you with a 10 minute comfort break half way through. It was like the old Saturday afternoon matinees all over again.
Pronunciation problems Up until now we have had absolutely no trouble with communicating with Indian people. However, this afternoon we had a bit of a problem when we had some time to kill and we went to a small bar for a beer. It became apparent from the moment we arrived that not all patrons in Indian bars are happy about female visitors, so Julie was attracting some rather angry glares. Unsure what to do, we kept our heads down and waited for the beer to arrive.
Once the beer was poured, our waiter offered me some penis. I was unsure if I had misheard him, or if he was offering me a disguise for jOOls, so I asked him to repeat himself. “Some penis” he said.
There was a moment of silence. I knew he probably wasn’t saying what I was hearing, but I had no option but to ask “Penis?”
“Yes, some Penis” he replied.
He could sense from Julie’s laughter and my confused and disgusted looks that we were obviously thinking about different things, so he scurried off to clarify the matter. Sure enough he returned a couple of minutes later with none other than a small bag of monkey penis; the very same ones that we get back home in the supermarkets around Halloween.
The best scam in the world! For the duration of the trip we have had young boys coming up and asking us where we are from, and if they can have a Scottish coin for their collection. Up until now it has been with much excitement we have been able to reply “Sorry, we have no Scottish money as we ain’t going home wee man!”. We had assumed the request for a foreign coin was genuine, but today we had a young Indian chap ask us how much a pound coin was worth and if we would buy it off him! Shocked we were, beyond belief! Of course, I did the right thing and offered him 50 Rs* for the nugget and he accepted. Cash back! The only thing I can confirm that we got a good price on in India, without any doubt, was that £1!!
The cheapest taxi ride in the world! We had to head to the airport earlier this evening to check in for our flight to Bangkok. I had heard from a few people that 300 Ruppees (approx. £3.80*) was the going rate to get to the airport from the city centre by taxi but I seemed to be failing miserably to get this price. The lowest I could get was an extortionate 450 Rs (£5.60). Unacceptable!
As a last gasp effort, I tried one final taxi driver who I was able to get to agree to the 300Rs fee. Off we set and three hours later we arrived at the airport. I have been doing various sums since the trip and I still can’t work out what money could possibly have been left from the fare to pay the poor lad who drove us. Diesel costs around 60p per litre, and there would be the added wear to the car (Julie’s recent gas troubles must have worn more than £3 worth out of the seat covers alone!). On this basis I have concluded taxi drivers in India are only in it for fun, probably because they grew up and got bored of playing Mario kart and wanted something more challenging. Honestly, the similarity between driving in India and Mario cart is uncanny!
Anyway, the day is done, as is our travels in India. Off to Bangkok in a couple of hours and, while India has been great, we are looking forward to the slower pace of Thailand already. Leaving us only one final thing to say to anyone that has bothered to read this drivel thus far, “we love you long time!”
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* As per www.oanda.com as at 13th Aug 2008, the exchange rate was 85.543 Ruppees to the £.
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