Mumbai: India again – Never Say Never!
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India!! It’s been a long time coming to get back here! After our last visit here in 1997, Hernandez (my wife Michelle) vowed that she would never again set foot in India, and I must confess that there is some logic in her position.
From previous trips we know that India can be a very tough place to travel (take a look at my article The Good, The Bad And The Ugly: The Realities Of India Travel). Cities can be wildly chaotic and very polluted; hassles are continuous, at least if you’re traveling independently; someone is always at your elbow trying to sell you something; and con-men abound. The poverty can be extreme, and beggars, many with horrific deformities, can be annoying as well as heartbreaking. Oh, and the streets of India often are strewn with poop (mostly from cows, some from people) and the stench of urine pops-up fairly regularly.
So why in the world would anyone voluntarily come to India? Because it’s one of the most exotic, fascinating places on this good earth! I view the chaos and con-men as great entertainment, and I view the myriad other hassles of India as simple inconveniences that are the price of admission for the good stuff. Hernandez knows my passion for the place, so her gift to me for our 10th wedding anniversary was an offer to go back to India with me... and here we are!
I bounded off the plane as it arrived in Mumbai (formerly known as Bombay), giddily beaming at my wife. Her enthusiasm was constrained, and it turned out that she wouldn’t be giddy quite yet….
I often don’t book a room prior to arriving in a new town, but since we arrived at midnight and I didn’t want to be out stumbling around trying to find a room at that hour, I had booked a room at a hotel in Colaba. I even had the hotel "send a car" to pick us up at the airport, in order to help ensure we got off to a smooth start, and to follow a suggestion by the US State Department not to take a random taxi from Mumbai airport in the middle of the night, as drivers are sometimes in cahoots with robbers who will pull over the car and pick you clean. (A minor risk that Hernandez will only learn about when she reads this. I had her give me her cash before we got on the plane, and when she wasn't looking I stuck all our cash and credit cards into my socks).
Anyway, in the arrival hall stood a kid with our name on a sign… and he promptly got into the taxi line to specifically take the very same taxis I was trying to avoid! Whatever. Out into the hot soupy air, and among a sea of taxis we find the taxi that we think is ours. It was a standard-issue Mumbai taxi, with a charming 1950’s design and a back seat optimized for someone a foot or two shorter than my 6’2” frame. We wedged ourselves into the back seat, and passed time by swatting mosquitoes while waiting-out unknown delays. Was the delay due to the driver calling-up his robber friends to arrange a take-down? Or was it an argument between the kid from the hotel and the driver as to whether it would be ok to rob us? Before I could take the story further, the driver returned and off we went into the night...and Cazart!
There’s nothing that can prepare you for arrival in India. We plunged into Mumbai traffic at 1AM, and it was bumper-to-bumper-to rickshaw-to cow. Most of the international flights come in during the middle of the night, so the streets were rocking and the horns were honking. We identified lane markers, but this seemed to be a waste of good paint, as the mass of cars, buses, rickshaws, trucks and bicycles all wildly veered around to ensure there was no wasted space. Hernandez casually mentioned that she could roll down the window and touch the car next to ours. I advised against it. She then gamely observed it was kind of like a video game: Select Vehicles (cars, busses, trucks); Select Obstacles (cows, handcarts, pedestrians); Select Rules (Drive on left when possible, otherwise no rules), and then Play!
After maybe an hour of innumerable twists, turns, horns, and what would be considered “close calls” back home, eventually we arrived at the Harbour View Hotel ($80 for a double). We told them of our booking, and knew there was trouble when the guy at the desk put on a pained expression and shook his head. One of his associates screwed up and gave away the room we had booked, so the story goes, but he could put us in another room for the night.
We’re shown to the room, and it resembled an interrogation facility. No windows, tiny bed, and a very depressing air all about it. I was half expecting someone to burst through the door saying "In zee end, you vill talk. Zee all vill talk, in zee end." We would have stormed out, but it was now 2AM and we were exhausted, so we collapsed into bed. After only two hours in the country I was already wondering whether coming to India was such a great idea.
Ah, but with the dawn of a new day the rough start would be forgotten! We were moved to a new room which was just fine, our location on the harbor was great, and we found the city to be more pleasant than on our previous visit some twelve years earlier.
First order of business was to hit the post office, to pickup a package from home (more mosquito repellent) and to mail a package home (to shed some of the stuff we had accumulated in Myanmar). At the post office we got the usual India run-around:
Me: “Excuse me, where do we pickup a package?”
Guy #1: “Over there” (gestures to the right)
Me, arriving where directed: “Excuse me, where do we pickup a package?”
Guy #2: “Over there” (gestures to the left...exactly where I started)
And the band plays on…
In the US, mailing a package would take an uneventful 15 minutes, but here in India it’s a multi-hour adventure that includes wrapping the package in linen and having it sealed with hot wax (really!). Though some would liken the process to Chinese Water Torture or being Put On The Rack, if taken in the right spirit, it’s wonderful entertainment! I captured the whole story of mailing a package if you're interested in all the details.
Mumbai is the center of Indian film-making (“Bollywood,”) so one night we went to the popular Eros Theater in search of seeing a classic, mindless, wailing Hindi musical. It was certainly a more civilized experience than going to the movies in the US: A beautiful theatre, reserved seats, no dried coke in the aisles, etc. Before the movie began, various public service film clips were shown that would prove to be better than the movie. First was a clip enouraging people to keep their city clean, and this featured a slob who threw trash on the streets, spat on the ground, and yes, peed on a wall. At least it's representative! Next up was a clip about "let's all live together in harmony," featuring Hindu, Muslim, and Sikh children all playing together and holding hands. Finally there was a spot about eliminating the standing water which can breed mosquitoes, and this featured locals dumping out flower pots, toys, and other items that were holding standing water. These three public service messages were a little corny in their production, but they were certainly trying to encourage solutions to some pressing problems. As for the movie itself: It was apparently some sort of convoluted love story, but since it was in Hindi, we had to guess what was going on. Though we only lasted an hour before giving up, the experience was still well worthwhile.
I’ve always loved Indian food, and Mumbai has some fantastic options for eating. Delhi Durbar restaurant was our staple: Fantastic Indian meals in a very civilized setting, with the diners primarily being locals instead of tourists. It’s not a place for grungy backpackers: The first time we went I was looking like a disheveled sweaty traveler, and a few locals appropriately looked at me with disdain. I cleaned up for later visits. By local standards it’s relatively expensive (~$5 per person), but for us it was great value, and the quality of food offset the absence of beer from the menu.
We also cleaned-up to go to the elegant Taj Hotel, which has had a facelift since our previous visit. We attempted to act like we belonged as we availed ourselves of the lobby and bar. The Taj is right across from the landmark Gateway To India, where British dignitaries arrived in days of yore…and from where they left upon Indian Independence. It’s a popular gathering area for the locals, and though the monument itself isn't much, it’s interesting to wander around in the evening and see what’s going on.
While in town we also went to the horse races. A few thousand locals were in attendance, but we were the only Westerners and Michelle was one of only three women that we saw. Heat was something of a problem: The sweat was pouring off of me, and it actually felt like I was melting. I was somewhat surprised that nobody seemed to take much notice of the presence of two sweaty Westerners in their midst, until a fellow sat beside of Michelle and JUST STARED AT HER FOR A VERY LONG TIME. My guess was that he’d never seen a Western woman up-close and wanted to study it’s habits.
At the track I was befriended by a guy who arrogantly made a point of telling me which horses were going to win the next few races. As we’re naturally suspicious of anyone who approaches and tries to latch-on, I essentially shoo’d him away….but I was kicking myself later when all the horses he recommended indeed won! I frantically ran all over that rickety track trying to find him, but alas, like a Guardian Angel, he was gone. I still have the very piece of paper upon which he wrote his recommendations. Some people treasure Buddha Relics and some treasure archeological finds, but I’ll treasure the scrap of paper from my Guardian Angel Of The Mumbai Racecourse.
Mumbai is an interesting city, with a lot of old colonial architecture that’s worth seeing. Right by the GPO is Victoria Terminus, one of India’s major train stations. (I got a kick of the "do not spit indiscriminately" sign there. Does that mean it's OK to spit "discriminately?") It’s a beautiful building that’s something of an attraction even if you aren’t going anywhere. Around a million people use the station each day, and we let ourselves be swept along in the sea of people at rush hour. There are various other old buildings in the area that are similarly worth a look from the street while walking the town.
Though we vividly remembered how bad the air pollution could be in Indian cities, and we had heard that pollution in Mumbai was bad, we certainly didn’t have any problems. Don’t know, but that could be at least in part due to where we stayed (on the water in Colaba). Unpleasantries were essentially limited to dodging poop on the sidewalks, tolerating the occasional foul stench of urine, and saying “no thanks” to the amusing hucksters strolling the waterfront who insisted that they needed to clean-out my ears with a piece of wire (who in the world actually falls for something like THAT?). The poverty of Mumbai, though, was surprisingly evident when we took a walk to the local market one morning, and stumbled across a couple dozen desperately poor people sleeping in the streets and huddling in terrible conditions. It’s India…
My expectations for Mumbai had been relatively low; I simply viewed it as the place that happened to be our entry point into the country. But though the first few hours were miserable, the rest of our stay in Mumbai was very pleasant, and to my enormous surprise Hernandez didn't really want to leave when the time came. I take that as a very good sign for our stay in India!
[Looking Back: The package we mailed indeed made it home! Also, we were interested to meet some other travelers later who had the same “bait and switch” pulled on them their first night at the Harbour View Hotel. Beware….]
March 5, 2007
Bob’s ratings (1 = terrible, 5= OK; 10 = fantastic):
- Mumbai: 6
- Harbour View Hotel: 6 (if you ignore the first night interrogation cell)
- Delhi Durbar restaurant: 10
- Gateway to India: 6
- Mumbai horse races: 5 (if you like horse racing)
- Victoria station: 6
Next - Udaipur: "Now this is what I came to India for"