Mumbai for beginners

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Today is my 13th day in Mumbai. I started counting when three months felt like a prison term. Now I'm counting because I'm not sure how to fit everything in.

Tom's flat is in the seaside suburb of Bandra. It's THE place to live, thanks to its trees and paved streets. But it's also full of half-finished construction sites, buildings smeared with stains from the monsoon, the angry buzzing and beeping of auto-rickshaws ('autos') and a constant thwacking of hammers.

The flat is enormous with marble floors, but not quite like the 'palatial castles with complimentary motor cruiser' advertised in newspapers. And of course it's further still from the 160sq feet in which an entire slum family might be rehoused.

Here are a few numbers, to put Mumbai's lack of space in perspective. Tom reckons so much about Mumbai boils down to numbers.

From a population of four million people in the 1970s, there are now as many people in this 30km long peninsula than in the whole of Australia.

Seven million people catch its suburban trains every day, and these commuters throw more than 2.5 tonnes of rubbish onto floors and out windows.

The Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation (BMC), charged with keeping the city running, has 140,000 employees. The slums have just one toilet per 1000 residents. But I read in the paper today that, in nearby Thane, officers hand out roses to encourage slum dwellers not to use the roadside as a toilet!

Squashing so many people into such a small space produces some pretty odd smells and I think this was the biggest shock. They range from deliciousness wafting from tandoor ovens, to piss-soaked walls, and putrefaction oozing down the slimy black creeks.

For my first Saturday, we decided to escape to Elephanta Island, about 8km out in the harbour. The island - named by the Portugese for a carving of an elephant they saw then subsequently stole - has a cave dedicated to Shiva hollowed out of the volcanic rock.

The island is full of crisp-hungry monkeys. We made it up the steps to the cave unscathed, but the woman in front of us what not so lucky!

Inside we were offered the services of free government guide. He was having a rough time trying to form a group. "The problem is nobody believes it is free," he explained. I never caught his name.

He talked us through the eight century carvings, most of which were badly damaged by the Portugese trying either to disprove the power of Hindi gods by cutting off dancing Shiva's legs (according to the guide) or using the caves as a firing range (according to Time OUt). The best was the 20ft three-faced Shiva at the back of the temple.

On Sunday, we swiched modes from the pursuit of beauty and knowledge to the pursuit of material gain.

I'd been unable to find cooking pots so we caught a taxi to High Street Phoenix. With three separate shopping areas, nightclubs, restaurants and (apparently) a bowling lane, this giant new mall is 'a day well spent' according to its slogan.

It was, in a sense, because we came away with forks, knives, pans, mugs and various other trophies. But I doubt I'll take up their invitation to 'go phoenixing on Facebook'.

We are now completely equipped to make lime pickle. Tom is excited about this.

I'll hopefully write again after the weekend once we have internet. We're heading for the hills. Where else?

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