36 hours in Mumbai almost kill me.....

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NOTE TO THE READER

THERE WILL BE SMELLING MYSTAYKES AND GENERALLY CRAP! GRAMMER,,....TOUCH SXXT!

Firstly, I would like to point out that Jet Airways are the dogs bollocks! Amazing service, comfortable seats, up to date entertainment technology and crackin food really set me in the right mood for Mumbai. Previous to actually getting on the flight almost didn't! I arrived 5 minutes before the check-in closed and thought I'd have enough time to take a slash but whilst exiting the bog, the tanoy said that my gate was closing! I galloped like a legendary horse with a rocket up its arse to the gate just as they were shutting the door, it was then that I realised.....I had no cash for India. I sprinted back to the cash machine after begging the GATE KEEPERS for some more time. For some shitty reason the machine wasn't accepting my pin......a clue for the hateful experience soon to bless me on my arrival to Mumbai. I managed to get out 100 quids worth of euros...which, as it turned out, was a MASSIVE DECISION!!!!!!

Having jumped off Jet airways airlines at an ungodly hour in the morning I was accosted by a pack of beying wolves in the guise of taxi cab drivers, beggars and one hermaphrodite…I gave her the first wedge of rupees from the atm as I was so impressed. India really is like a circus and on arrival in Mumbai every freak and his mother wants a piece of the action! This is where I mention Anton, an absolute fxxking legend whom I sat next to on the plane. Not is Anton a top lad but a life saver. Anton gave me a bunch a rupees on the plane because I mentioned I hadn't booked a room cos I like to travel with spontaneity.....(I'm such a fkin twat!!!!) THANK YOU ANTON....SOOO MUCH MATE...you'll understand why I'm so appreciative later on...

Here’s a tip for ya…..make sure you book a place for the first couple of nights in mumbai…I didn’t, and because of this idiocy was hounded by a sea of hoteliers, hostel owners and tin shack owners…I didn’t believe any of them due to my paranoia, based on years of building up my western barriers, and had visions of rocking up to a cave housing a sea of giant man-eating insects! As it as I settled on a room 10 minutes from the airport from 'the mumbai travel tourist office'.......a small counter housing two thieves. Here's a tip for ya when it's 1.30am at Mumbai airport: Move with purpose, never look like you don't know where you're going, don't look desperate and finally;get an Indian face transplant. I paid 30 quid for a room outside Mumbai ( a full hour outside Mumbai) because I encompassed none of these things.

The room itself was what it was: tidy, dirty, blood on the sheets, mozzies, cockroaches and a cold shower....NO I DIDN'T SLEEP. I got up at 1pm and asked if I could pay by card..'no' said the little man. His assistant offered to take me to a cash machine via an autorickshaw...who almost ran over 2 pedestrians and a cyclist on the way to the ATM.

'Weird...my pin number isn't working??', 'maybe you type wrong pin?' said the assistant. We promptly waved down another nutter who took us to another atm....at this point I'd like to add that a beggar with an extremely small hand and bearing a striking resemblance to Ossama Bin Laden drove me insane. I saw this as the first test of my "driving away the annoying beggar skills" I felt hardened, cocky and quite pleased with myself for not relenting....this was waaaay to easy! Ha! Anyway...the second machine didn't accept my card so I eventually paid by debit card...all fine...no probs...but why didn't my pin work? I'm sure it'll work in central mumbai?

So....a private taxi from the hotel gifted me a quirky taxi driver who took great joy in swatting flies inside his cab...he encouraged me to join him in this sport! At this point it's fair to mention that traffic lanes don't exist in India, they favor the horn as a last minute form of communication just at the brink of collision!

On arrival in Mumbai the driver took me to a wreck of a guest house in colaba, which had no vacancies, moving on to the Salvation army hostel...which had a vacancy for 2.80 per night in a dorm. Done! I was well Appy!! The cheeky little shit then asks me for 700 rupees after agreeing 550 rupees with me prior to the journey. Either way I was getting massively ripped off...anyone who knows India knows that I should have paid 250 rupees...about 3 pound 30p, I laughed at him, gave him 550 and walked inside the hostel. I could hear him ranting at me from behind.

I was fairly content at this point but my mood was to change rapidly en-route to the atm.....2 street kids decided to join me on my excursion.One looked quite slick and healthy, the other was scrawny and only had one eye, he seemed to be the leader."You buy us milk and rice Mr?" He said confidently. "Sorry kid, no money", "where you go?". "to eat" I lied......"We come with you!"..... Bollocks!!
I either shake them off or go straight to the atm, I'm pretty sure I can fight off two street kids..I had done 15 press-ups in my dorm room just before my trip to the atm, anyway, they followed me.

Every cash machine in India is fronted by a security guard, comforting I thought, maybe I could bribe the guard to chase the little buggers whilst I took out my wad of rupees from the machine, and yes, as I write this a surge of guilt rushes though my blood......

I tried my pin....DECLINED.......and again.... DECLINED.'Try again" said the guard."won't it eat my card?" I said."I'm here..no problem!" he said. Ah great! Maybe the atm and the guard are best mates, maybe they meditate together...after all this is India."If it swallows my card can you get it out immediately?" "swallows..yes I get!"..... My immaturity made me chuckle at this comment....

I inserted the card again and the big metal buffoon ate it! Fuck! Fuck!!!!'Can you get it out for me?" "no" said the guard. "What do you mean no! You said you could get it out!!" It became very apparent that he hadn't understood a word that I was saying...he just smiled. I had a mini daydream involving ramming his stupid, smiling head into the cash machine. He was still smiling as I did it.....that fucking smile...........

What the fuck do I do now! "You milk and rice Mr?" said the scrawny kid. "No, me no money...machine ate my card" I said.
"You phone bank...we help you" Generous, I thought.....selfless. An honest beggar. I was warming to the little bugger, after all, they both know mumbai like the back of their hands!

I went inside the bank and after 30 minutes of trying to explain my plight they took a copy of my passport, visa and asked me to come back at 3pm the next day. " we give you tomorrow...security give" Great.....

The kids were waiting for me outside. They took me to a market stool........."No, I want phone..not fruit" They looked puzzled. Maybe the banana was a secret phone for travelers in desperate need. Maybe the kid was Indian secret service. Maybe the patch over his eye hid a bionic eye? I am a very bad man..........

"phone, you phone" said the kid. he then reached across and picked up a receiver hidden amongst the oranges. This is when I woke up...I am in India. I called nationwide and told the chap my story. "Sorry, nothing we can do"... "pardon me" I said. "Make my card work...I have very little cash to live on and I can't get any money out! I need to eat and pay for accommodation!!" As I said this I looked across at the street kids with their tattered clothes and crud covered faces begging for rice. My problem suddenly seemed insignificant in comparison, yet they still held beaming smiles and there I was...4 grand in the bank..just unable to access it. Hardly life threatening....what a cock..

"The computer sais pin failure" Said the annoying nationwide man."Trust me" I said "the pin is correct and furthermore my credit card doesn't work either. Can I use it to take out money from the cash machine?" He told me this was possible but I must order a new pin for my cash card through the nationwide website because it's not possible over the phone.....fuck knows why he couldn't do it on the phone....I'd just spend the best part of 10 minutes giving him security details!!!?? DO NOT GET A FLEXIBLE ACCOUNT THROUGH THE NATIONWIDE WITH THE VIEW OF USING IT TO TRAVEL COS IT AINT FLEXIBLE AND WHEN YOU PHONE EM FOR HELP THE COMPUTER SAIS NO!!!!!!!!

If there was one person who stood out in Mumbai it was Keysure, a street kid with honesty and integrity. During my conversation with the idiot at nationwide keysure turned up and overheard my conversation with the bank...he started arguing with the 2 street kids next to me. After a completely useless conversation with the nationwide I put the phone down....no better off and with less money as the call cost me over 2 hundred rupees. "What's up guys" I said to the 3 kids. Keysure stepped forward, " They are trying to take money from you and telling me to be quiet....but it is wrong,,,I tell them that you have trouble" He threatened them with a slap and they shouted back at him aggressively, raising their fists. They asked him to meet them for a fight later on. He agreed and said that now was a good time to fight because he was busy later....they looked scared, backed down and walked off. "It's a scam Mr. They ask you for milk and rice and when you buy them they take it back to the shop and sell it for money,,,,the shop-keeper is in on the scam...both make money from you sir!" "Trust me kid, I know what they wanted" I said in an attempt to look smart."My name is Keysure" he said. I had to pay for the phone bill so I changed up the rest of my Euros. I had no small change so Keysure chipped in some coins,. I'm not silly...of course keysure ha a motive but I trusted him, he was a good kid. I asked him how he learnt English, he told me he learnt from the street and talking to many tourists.

Now, anyone who knows me will tell you how much I like my food and how angry I get if I don't eat at regular times! So.....the idea of rationing food to save the meager money I had left was less than appealing! I had hidden in my hostel dorm for several hours forming an unnatural dislike for mumbai born out of frustration from being ripped off, and the loss of my cash card. On my reluctant walk from my room to the street I found Keysure waiting for me on the step. "Where you go Mr Adam? I plucked from my bag an encyclopedia sized lonely planet and pointed to a place to eat on Colaba causeway. It's amazing how comforting it felt fingering through the travelers bible after my plight. Never the less, it weighed a tonne and was the best way to attract every beggar within a mile radius! I have a theory that Mumbai beggars have supersonic hearing and can differentiate between different types of books....naturally their ears prick up when a page of the lonely planet is turned. Still....I HAD KEYSURE. Several beggars came from no-where but Keysure had a samurai sword behind his back! He chopped their heads off and feasted on the bodies before giving me a huge thumbs up! Yes...I was daydreaming again....

Keysure and I headed towards a cafe on the causeway, the whole journey was spent listening to my new friend ranting about how expensive it was to eat at the cafe. I ignored him! I desperately needed a slice of home in the form of a cheeseburger...and ok I'll admit it....If I came across a MacDonalds on the way I would have quite happily kissed the golden arches!!!

The cafe was closed! keysure suggested a non-tourist restaurant with amazing masala dosas. Now even though I love Indian food back home, the caring.....yet negative advice on feasting in India was beginning to play on my noggin. The words "Delhi Belly" began to ring through my mind like a psychedelic brainwash! Fuck it!! I was starting to wrap myself in cotton wool!! We sat down in the restaurant and I pretty much ignored everything on the menu but the masala dosa, a chai and a bottle of water.....I sure as shit wasn't going to drink the local water. I heard somewhere that if you drink it you become impotent, grow a handlebar mustache and develop boobs..........none of these symptoms appealed to me, henceforth when offered a metal cup of tap water I politely declined...I bought the kid a dosa and the whole thing came to a quid!!!!

Night time in Colaba is a hive of activity and down the causeway fruit traders, clothes stools, drum sellers, drug dealers and tourist shops all ply their trade excitedly, pouncing from the shadows like mohammed al fayed with a hard-on. keysure gave me some lessons in bartering and I have since developed my own techniques based on his advice! So...here goes....walk up to the seller and ask the price.NEVER give him a price to work on! Shake your head at the first price - even if it's cheap and ask him to give you a better price...he will drop to something which is still way over the odds. Laugh at him and tell him that you've lived in Mumbai for a year already and to stop bothering you with tourist prices cos your ear is starting to bleed...usually he'll laugh....a good sigh that your building rapport. He won't budge so walk away...he'll call you over to give you a better price...give him a ridiculously low price to work on (here is where the fun really begins!) Now you're bartering!! He will move in bulk numbers, 100, 150, 200 etc....so you move in smaller steps, 73, 75 1/2, 77 etc. Do this and you'll get your price!! If that doesn't work just be aggressive!

Comforted that I had a a train ticket to leave from Mumbai to Goa the next evening I told myself that I had enough money on me until I arrived at my next destination, so I decided to buy Keysure and I a beer. He took me through a series of backstreets to a window situated in a disgraceful alleyway which was absolutely teeming with dodgy characters! We bought a beer through a small hatch and proceeded to the gateway of India...sitting on the steps in-front of it. directly behind us was a small green area, Keysure said that it was nice to sleep there at times. A tiny girl approached me and could have only been 4 or 5 years old...she was begging for water. I gave her my bottle and some rupees " each bottle makes them a rupee" he said "give her your beer bottle as well, she can make 3 rupees in total with my bottle " he spoke as though he too had done this when he was younger but now he'd obviously risen through the ranks...no-longer needing to make money this way. I could certainly see why. If there was such a thing as leader of the street beggars, he was it. keysure had a lovely way about him, talking strongly of karma. he never said that he wasn't a beggar but that there was a right and wrong way to do it. Westerners/tourists were god in his eyes and must be treated with respect. I mused with him that he would make a great tour guide...making lots of money with his Colaba tours, and it's at this point that he came out with something that took my breath away,"for why do I need so much money? I already have the sun, moon and stars in the sky" By the way...Keysure is 15....
Keysure had certainly made Mumbai a much richer experience and given me a clear mind...I was ready to detox......so after a couple of spliffs with an ozzie whom I met in my dorm room, I retired happy and stoned to bed!

"Can I help?" A friendly voice whispered behind me at CST Victoria train station where only 3 months earlier 10 terrorists from Pakistan heavily armed with grenades and machine guns decided to go on a rampage around Mumbai killing and injuring hundreds of people at hotels, hospitals, a tourist bar called leopold and CST station. Due to these atrocities CST station was high on security with armed guards patrolling the station and behind sand bags with machine guns. They were also checking all luggage within the station via airport style baggage machines. I have to say, I felt fairly uncomfortable. I have a vivid imagination at the best of times and it was working overtime at CST. Keysure had told me where he was at the time it happened. He was standing beside the Taj Hotel, the location of the terrorists last stand. He had heard the sound of machine gun fire and grenades approaching him and decided to run past the gateway of India in the opposite direction of the Taj and eventually to safety. Keysure also told me that the sri lankan crcket team had just been ambushed by terrorists outside the Pakistani cricket ground...luckily no-one was killed but more attacks were promised. I had noticed a great deal of pain in his voice when he spoke of the barbaric killing of children at the hands of terrorists at CST station, and there I was at the exact location of the attacks, re-living the conversation we had shared earlier within my mind.

I turned to see the man who had offered help. "You look confused sir. Can I help you?" He knew that this was a rhetorical question. I think the furrowed brow gave it away. CST is pretty big and it can be very confusing...especially for an Indian novice with DICKHEAD tattooed across his forehead....."Yeah, I have a ticket for Goa and...." he interrupted me. "No no sir...this is a waiting list ticket.No good for you today Sir. Tomorrow yes, today no" What the fuck does waiting list mean? Maybe its a a giant Que which starts from now and ends with me getting the train tomorrow morning?? I couldn't do this! I was ill prepared and I sure as shit didn't have a tent with me! maybe they supplied tents and entertainment in the form of a band? Maybe the killers were playing, supported by Razorlight!!?? He took me to a ticket vendor and explained the procedure. " You need to get the ticket confirmed Sir" What does he mean ticket confirmed?? Maybe I was a special passenger..the billionth westerner to travel through CST station!! Maybe I'll get 100,000 rupees for free??......Don't be a cock Adam......He placed my ticket through the booth and the man took a look at it before squiggling something un-recognisable in pen on the ticket...he then passed it back to my new friend who shook his head. NOW WHAT!!?? "See Sir, no good. You waiting list 70. Anyone with 0-10 waiting list can get on the train" The anger was starting to leak into my veins and for the first time in my life I imagined how Eric Banner felt like every time he changed into the incredible hulk......"But I booked it 3 weeks ago on the train!!" I said angrily. "Yes, but no confirm so you can only go tomorrow unless you take the bus" he said. FANTASTIC!!! My train ticket was as much use as a chocolate tea-pot. "What bus? Can I take it tonight?" I was conscious of the time. after all, I still had to pick up my stupid cash card from the bank of India security chap at 3pm...."No problem for you Sir. Follow me and I'll take you there, but first you put your bag in the security to hold until its time for you to leave" WHAT A NICE GUY!!! But what about his train...Surely he'll miss it if he continued to be the good Samaritan?? I'll bet he's good mates with Keysure. I thought.

"Luxury bus with air-conditioning leaves tonight at 8.30pm from here Sir...1600 rupees" Said the man at the bus ticket counter outside CST station. My new found friend had taken me there. "Jeeeeezzz!! That's a tad expensive!! It wants to have a gold plated toilet on-board with goose-down pillows to lay my weary head for that price...still, he did say that It was luxury..."can you drop the price at all?" I said, conscious of my ever decreasing cash fund. "Fixed price Sir...short notice but as you are a single traveler we can do it for 1400 rupees" He said. "I'll take it!! But what about my train ticket?? Can I get a refund?" I was more hopeful than confident.... " No problem Sir. We can sort out the discount for you now via the Internet" And so he did. Top man! No sooner had I bought my ticket when my helpful friend from the station whispered in the bus ticket man's ear in Hindi. I placed my ticket in my bag and he had suddenly vanished! I didn't even get a chance to say thank you!!

Whilst I was buying my ticket I had noticed a very short, slight man in my peripheral vision to my right. He had a different look about him than most of the Indians I had seen. as I walked away from the ticket stand he approached me. " how much did you pay for the bus ticket Sir?" What's it gotta do with him. I thought. "1400. Why?" I had a feeling that his answer was going to be a negative one, and so it was...."Oh no Sir! You must learn to be smart!" I had forgotten what the word meant during my last few days in Mumbai.....he continued..." Your ticket should only be between 4 and 700 rupees. I saw you and heard your situation at the train station but the Ali Bar bar approached you before I could...he tricked you Sir!!" Ali Bar bar??? What was he going on about?Who was he? Wait a minute...Ali Bar bar... and the...erm.. forty......FUCK!!! "Dya mean that the man at the station wasn't a commuter!!!???? He works for the bus station doesn't he!!?? "Yes Sir. He earns commission from people like you. your train ticket was certainly valid. you need to think Sir! Think! It is different in India. I am from Nepal, you can trust me" My blood was at boiling point for two reasons: One, at being screwed over yet again...and the other at my stupidity..a fact that had been clearly pointed out by my new Nepalese friend, whom I felt sure was going to point out even more inadequacies as I walked to find the Internet shop....my intuition was correct.

"Mr you must think! Carry small change only in India and you should only spend 250 pound per month..no more!!! When you get to Goa you must avoid all hippies!! Get lots of western currency cos in Goa they don't use rupees! Think Mr!! Think!!" All good advice but this do-good er was starting to grind my gears!! I just wanted to find the dickhead who took me to the bus reservation office! I was boiling up! I started to rant.... " If I find that dickhead who conned me I'll smash his teeth in!!!" I said, Whilst pounding my fist into my hand!! "No Sir....Think! You smash teeth in, 6 years in Indian prison!"............GOOD POINT. I've never been in an Indian Jail but I'd be willing to bet that given a choice between dangling my gonads above a piranha would be the better choice of the two options. I started to walk. He followed me. "Where you go Mr?" .........Don't tell him......."An Internet cafe".......nob. "I show you a good one, then we can go to Thomas cook travel agent to get some euros and dollars.

What was he going on about? Why can't you use rupees in Goa? Was this more bollocks!!?? Why would he lie? he led me through a maze of very narrow streets to a small Internet cafe and sat with me. I logged on and told him to turn away whilst I logged into the Nationwide website with the intention of writing them an email on their homepage. THWARTED YET AGAIN!!!! The stupid website wasn't working. I logged off and the Nepalese man turned around..." Come my friend. I take you to travel agent and ATM" Why was he going out of his way to help me? I decided that he too was a thief..and hatching a plan to nobble me. He was good, I'll give him that, but in mumbai they are top quality tea-leafs! Unluckily for him I had grown.."THE ESSEX WALL" which in my mind was treble the thickness of the Berlin wall but with a gigantic "FUCK OFF YOU CONNING BASTARDS" written in neon so bright that you would need 6 inch thick anti neon spectacles to avoid being affected......I doubt this latest adversary carried a pair of these on his person. I rep them and they aren't for sale in India....I followed him anyway. you never know, maybe I'll end up getting some dough out through a travel agent?? I tried several but non off them worked yet he seemed very keen to find one that did...stressing the importance of the western cash that I so desperately needed in order to survive Goa! Time to split.......so the second he turned around I jumped into a taxi and raced off! I turned to see his face as he realised I'd given him the slip.....he looked like he's just farted and followed through, and trust me, with the Indian diet it wouldn't have been a pretty sight!

What next!!?? Ah ha! eat at the cheap place that Keysure showed me. Who was outside? Yep, the bloke that I'd just given the slip!! JOKING! It was keysure. "Mr Adam" He said. His face beaming a huge smile! "You get cards yet from bank?"..... FUCK! I'd forgot. I checked the time which read 3pm and promptly galloped like a thoroughbred to the bank of India who told me to wait outside the ATM for the security van. One and a half hours into my wait with sweat dripping from every part of my body and a stench hovering around the atm that can only be described as puke, shit and sex panther...I was AGAIN..beginning to get wound up. A lovely English girl who obviously spotted my distress walked over to me. We chatted for a while and she seemed generally concerned about my well fare. Her name was Una and something told me that this wasn't just a chance meeting...maybe we were to meet again later in my trip?? But at this point there was absolutely nothing she could do and so regretfully she walked away wishing me all the best. It's amazing how certain people who generally give a crap can brighten up your day and so after a 3 and a half hour wait the security van pulled up. My card was returned to me! During that 3 hours I moaned, stressed and whinged. Keysure turned around to me at the height of my tantrum during the wait. " Mr Adam, shanti shanti. You no problems. People in England can help you and send you money...you no worries. You won't end up on street like me...trust me my friend......


TO BE CONTINUED.....

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