mumbai - city of dreams

the flight was tolerable, with some cool entertainment. i watched run fatboy run, which could have been better, and the best film i have ever seen - superbad. i was sat next to a woman called freda, who was lovely and from the top drawer of the 40 year old scally cabinet. she was off to goa to see her boyfriend who was currently in the phillipenes on a sex tour!

passing through customs i think i saw a victim of a dowry burning. her entire body was covered in burn scars. she seemed happy, giggling and chatting away with her colleagues. my taxi driver was a sikh chap called jagjeet, who said that sadly dowry burnings still happen, though not as much as in the time of his father's childhood. a prepay taxi from the airport to colaba cost 450 Rs, and the trip took about 2 hours through insane crazy traffic, past slums, hawkers, new tower developments, palaces, railway stations and small mini-villages. we passed the time talking about family, religion and the problems that face the new india such as the ever widening gap between rich and poor.

on arrival in colaba i wandered around colaba causeway hoping to soak in a bit of the mayhem that surrounded me. the weather was hot and humid - the temperature close to 30 degrees - and the pace of life here is just insane. i sat and had a beer on the street and watched india sprint by. i have to say it was awesome, though i must have looked the complete goggle-eyed tourist! i bought a mobile telephone and sim card for 1500 Rs (81 Rs to the pound) which was pretty sweet.

in the evening i went to leopold's, which had been recommeded to me by the good people over at http://www.indiamike.com/ and they were right - such a great place to eat cheaply and people watch. i had an enormous mutton biryani and a litre of kingfisher beer for 300Rs! i ate with a chap called bruno, an italian pilot. he comes to mumbai often and we talked about his days in the italian air force, training with the raf near newcastle. we agreed that a night out in newcastle was guaranteed to be filled with crazytimes. after that i went for a beer in the bar across the street from my hotel, which had great big murals on the wall in the jetsons cartoon style. did i mention that mumbai is slightly barmy? i met a lass from brighton called hanna, who apparently knows jim... lol. we went to a nightclub at the gordon hotel, which was chock full of westerners boogying on down to cheesy 70s and 80s music. i was in my element.

i rolled in at 5am, and that's when the jetlag hit. 13 hours later i was hungry - and i wanted to see chowpatty. a 100Rs taxi ride and a stroll along marine drive and i was there. chowpatty is not like any other beach i have ever seen. there are electric street lamps in parts of it, and lots of food vendors. the water is too polluted to swim, so everyone is fully clothed and the beach is more a place to meet people, walk and talk. no beach volleyball here! friday night is when families come to chowpatty to say goodbye to the working week together. all over the beach there were groups of the indian extended family sat on mats - the grandparents talking loudly and waving their arms about while the kids ran around playing, flying kites and chasing one another. the parents looked as if they were happy to just be there and not at work - most of the parents i saw were just smiling and holding one another's hands, watching their kiddies having fun. i made my way through the hawkers and beggars and found a stall that the majority of the women and children were eating at. one rule of street food, if a mother will feed the food to her kids it's a pretty safe bet that it won't set your guts alight! i had a ches bhel puri, and it is my new favourite thing. i sat and wrote in my journal, with the still calm of the arabian sea to my left and the constant din and hubbub of marine drive to my right.

as i was crossing one of the footbridges over marine drive my phone rang. unable to hear whoever had called over the din of the traffic i retreated back to the relative calm of the beach. being on the telephone didn't stop the beggars and people offering me massages from hassling me. i really need to perfect the "get to f*ck" face that peter moore advises the indian traveller to adopt in his travel books!

i then took a taxi to the gateway of india and i have to say i was massively underwhelmed, mainly because of construction works being carried out there and the stream of "please sir, please sir, only 10 rupees for me please sir please sir". so i took a few snaps, lit a cigarette and looked out over the arabian sea. i will be back there tomorrow as i will need to get a boat from there to elephanta island.