Sorry for the delay ... Internet is a nightmare we will try and get up to date asap but for now ...

MUMBAI...

As we descended into Mumbai a dark patchwork quilt greeted us below. High rise buildings, blue tarpaulin and patches of green in equal measure all sewn together by rows of cars, rickshaws, cycles and long winding rivers.

As we landed the fatigue of already travelling for 13 and a half hours quickly morphed into excitement, anxiety and a realisation that after months of saving, planning and research we were actually doing this ... We were in India!!!

We were snapped back into the moment as the plane became a hive of activity as the other passengers (obviously used to the departure in Mumbai) gathered their belongings with speed and precision and began pushing their way to the exit doors. Our friend Steve had warned us of the pandemonium of getting through customs, but safe in the knowledge he was waiting for us on the other side, we casually held back for the throng to die down before finally getting off the plane.

As we made our way through the large airport, it smelled musty like a house that had been stood empty for ages. We could feel the warmth but the air con was a good mask and made it comfortable as we joined each queue and got herded through like cattle going to market. After everything we had read and heard, the ease of which this all happened was a welcome suprise and it was really quiet as if we were the only plane landing that day. This continued as the double doors opened and we stepped out expecting taxi men, hawkers and children all hassling and touting for business, what we actually found was a few car drivers with arranged pick up's and our friend Steve with a big grin waving us to him, (asking for a cigarette light)

We greeted with big hugs and constant chatter as we waited for Steve's driver to bring the car to take us to our pre-booked Bawa Continental hotel! We got into the car while the driver loaded our bags, where Steve opened the fridge compartment and pulled out a bottle of water and freezing cold flannel for each os us providing refreshment from the overwhelming blanket of heat that had engulfed us "like opening the oven door after cooking a Sunday roast"! Heaven! The car provided a secure haven to experience our first journey into India. Our eyes and senses were drawn here, there and everywhere as there is so much to take in. As we pulled out of the tarmaced airport onto a road that was more like a dirt track our ears became bombarded by horns. Cars, bikes and rickshaws all use their horns as a language, in short bursts, constant long blasts and little beeps all creating a beat and rythym as a soundtrack to the drive. The sides of the road are lined with makeshift shacks, some of which are homes, some shops and some businesses, all a bustling array of colour made up of the famous blue tarpaulin, women's sari's, fruit, flowers, religious garlands and people going about their daily life.Dog's hung around every corner lazing in the sun with no energy to move. It made us chuckle when Steve said the government had announced that there were only 250 potholes left in the whole of Mumbai, it felt as if 199 of them were along this road! As we continued further into our journey the roads became smoother and better maintained with shacks turning to brick structures and billboards that added further to the heaving colour explosion. There was even more, louder horn use building up to a cresendo as we headed to the finale. We then emerged onto Juhu Tara Road or "posh street" as it should be known, lined with high rise buildings, star's houses, plush hotels and upmarket shop fronts but all interspersed with the same street vendors. We pulled up outside our hotel. It was a lovely glass fronted building that would be home for the next 3 days. We said our goodbye's to Steve as he had to go back to work and checked in and made our way to the room, with the bell boy lagging behind under the back breaking weight of our backpacks. With all good intentions of going out exploring we sorted our bags and then made the mistake of lying down on the bed, it was the comfiest bed imaginable and exhausted we went straight to sleep.

We woke in a pitch black room to the sound of a phone ringing,It was midnight and Steve had just returned from work and was inviting us for tea. We met him outside and walked the short distance to his hotel th prestigious J.W. Marriot.

This was the first experience of crossing the road. The traffic is nothing short of mental with cars overtaking rickshaws, rickshaws battling to overtake eachother and bikes weaving in and out and undertaking both, all at speed with the constant beeping of horns. I thought we'd never get across but the trick is to show no fear or hesitation, just stick your arm out and go for it. (a bit like the 80's classic Frogger!) No-one slows down for you they have the judgement to just swerve and up to now miss!

We made it safely across and walked up the drive into a different world. There is a bunch of security men with dogs that search you before you get to the flight of stairs leading to the main entrance. Before you are allowed to enter your bags are put through a scanner and you walk through a metal detector before being taken behind a curtain and patted down until you are eventually allowed to go in.This is all due mainly to the terrorist attacks that shook Mumbai not so long ago.

Once inside the sight was jaw dropping! A huge lobby greeted you with a grand double staircase leading down either side into a restaurant area, all with open kitchens and a delectable array of food and drinks. Directly in front was a landscape wall of glass that allowed you to view the backdrop of pristine gardens, infinity pool and the sea beyond, needless to say we definitely had a taste of how the other half live.

We grabbed a table and ordered our first ever real Indian meal. Dahl Mahkni, which is made from lentils and beans finished in a spicy gravy. (gravy being their name for curry sauce not Bisto as we know it.) It was amazing the texture and the spices get your pallette tingling and it was gone in minutes, no disrespect but a far cry from the rose of Kashmir or curry in a hurry!

We finished catching up with Steve and still feeling the jet lag headed back to our hotel for the best nights sleep ever!

Day 2.

We woke up early and arranged to meet up with Steve and his girlfriend Mansi at their hotel. They had been to collect Alice (steve's daughter) and her boyfriend Dan from the airport.

This was our first experience of Indian Monsoon rain, one minute it was dry and sunny and it was as if "GOD" had turned on the shower. Think of the heaviest rain you have been caught in and triple it's density then you are getting close. It's like the drops are so big you could actually dodge them if there weren't sop many, in other words it's not fine but by god does it get you wet! Within seconds we were soaked but we had our trusty waterproof jackets and we couldn't stop laughing as we hopped, skipped and jumped our way avoiding puddles, dogs, traffic and the odd street vendor.

We met Steve and Mansi in the gardens of the Marriot, it was the first time meeting Mansi but as we curled up in the cushioned pagoda it felt like we had known her for ages. Mansi was wearing a traditional sari made of white lace with tiny pink sequins making up a hand sewn flower design, she looked beautiful.

We were planning a few days touring with Steve and the gang so after a much needed cappucino and watermelon juice and exchanging of gifts, we headed down to Bandra to finalise some details.

Our first rickshaw ride was like being on a film set in a car chase. Rickshaws = think small metal garden storer, take off the doors add 3 wheelbarrow wheels and throw in a hairdryer with a bench seat and handle bars and Voilah!!! You can't actually see anything much out of them except other traffic narrowly missing running into the side of you and the world of colour whizzing by.

We arrived in Bandra and were instantly surrounded by youngsters trying to sell us everything from hair bobbles to gel balls, they even wanted to shoe shine our new sparkly white trainers. We had been told to ignore them but this is easier said than done, they are trained proffessionals as we tried to look away they moved around and gave us puppy eyes and stood tapping us. We stood our ground and they finally gave up.

Bandra is an up and coming bustling place with a great vibe there are nice new air con shops bars and restaurants with high end products nestled in amongst rows of brightly coloured street stalls selling the same things or variations of for 100rp (about 1.50).

We went to barista coffee shop (like our Costa) and had coffee, then we went and found the place to have proper coffee. It was a little Chai (tea) stall tucked away down a backstreet. There was already quite a crowd of customers. We ordered coffee and watched it being boiled on two small burners.The milk very much like condensed was boiled and boiled again in a metal jug and the coffee was in a big metal pot, it was like a paste, the man then put the coffee and milk together and passed it back and forth between large tumblerslike performing a magic trick before serving the sweet sticky brew in tiny metal beakers. It was gorgeous. This is where we encountered the first stares, everyone just looks straight through you as if you are an alien, which I suppose we must look like.

We then spent the rest of the day sitting in Vicky's shop organising the details of our ten day tour. Vicky's shop was actually a small street room that doubled as a pottery shop, tour agents and general store.Perfect! We watched the heavy rains, people coming and going and the rickshaws all lined up waiting their turn to be refuelled. After hours of (or so it seemed) finalising we headed back to the Marriot for a bit of pool crashing.

By the time we'd had a swim Alice and Dan had come alive and we were all ready for food. We headed onto the adjacent Juhu beachj for the famous Pau Bhaji. (bhaji meaning vegetables)

We walked along to find lots of stalls dotted along the beach selling different fruit, food, jewellery clothes and even fortune telling. We suddenly became surrounded by children begging, holding their tummies and signalling to their mouths saying please over and over, one girl was holding a samll baby and asking for money for milk. It is a truly heartwrenching sight and even though we knew we were going to experience it nothing can fully prepare you. You are advised not to give anything as a lot of the children are controlled and have to hand their money over, it also encourages them to continue begging. But it is incredibly hard to say NO! Steve gave them some pop and a few rupees and they happily toddled off squabbling to get their share.

We headed towards a block that looked like fairground stalls, similar set up to an indoor market, with stall after stall selling food and drinks, it really bought a whole new meaning to food court all lit up and awash with colour. As we entered the whole place jumped to life, each and every stall holder shouting and heckling for our business. Luckily Steve had a favourite stall which he used regularly and we headed straight there. They jumped into action and produced red plastic chairs from over the counter as the chef began to prepare our supper.

He added vegetables to a large hotplate with literally half a pound of butter and began to mash the veg over and over adding water and spices until it became a puree. two buns each were then softened on the hotplace with yet more butter all this was then served on a prison tray. We can honestly say it was the nicest thing we have eaten in a long time and we paid 4.50 sterling for seven of them with extra buns to boot.

Suitably stuffed and jet lag again creeping up fast we headed to the heavenly bed and slept for another ten hours.

Day 3

For our last day in mumbai we headed for a bit of tourist sightseeing. Mansi haggled with the a/c taxi driver and we managed to get it for 1,200 rp ( just under 20 quid) to take us from Juhu in the North ( known as the suburbs) to Colaba in the south, around the sights and back again. Bargain!

We travelled through Bandra and out onto the expressway, this was the first time we experienced hawkers knocking on the car windows trying to sell their wares, mainly photocopied books, cigarettes and of course hair bobbles! The child beggars also knocked wanting food and money. There were small slums lining the street where people slept, You cannot imagine thathuman beings can survive living in these conditions, but whole families live in shacks built from scrap and tarpaulin, it certainly makes you address the futile things we all moan about in daily life, and how materialistic things do not mean anything, life experience and survival counts for much more.

We carried on over the Bandra Worli sea link this is an amazing structural bridge a work of art in its own right, that bridges the Arabian sea from North to South.

We then followed the coast past Haji Ali's Mosque which floats like a sacred mirage. It contains the tomb of muslim Saint Haji. There is a long causeway that provides access to the mosque where there were hundreds of people (pilgrims) trying to cross. This is because it is Thursday and Thursday's and Fridays are when most people visit. We were unable to get close because it was near high tide and the sea covers the causeway and the mosque becomes an island. But we had a laugh as we watched all the people trying to run and dodge the waves as they rose and crashed over them.

We then made our way through the Malabar Hill area, this is the district where Mumbai's elite live and the most exclusive neighbourhood of sky scrapers and private palaces. We drove past the Cadbury's factory and the second richest man in India's tall high rise house with it's own helipad (see photos)

Our first destination was Mani Bhavan or Ghandi's House.It was the place he stayed and worked from 1917 - 1934. It has become a museum dedicated to his life and all the good he did within it. It was from here he launched SATYAGRAHA in 1919 and Civil Disobedience in 1932 which led to the end of British rule.

There was a room that tells his life story through pictures and writing and his letters including his original letters to Hitler and President Roosevelt. It is intriguing how he gained so much respect and made things happen with a non violent, peaceful will and belief that he could acheive freedom. We saw the bedroom where he worked and slept and a room full of action men like figures encased in glass that dipicted his life in another form. It was a very humbling and induced a strange sense of emotion and inner calm.

We then made the short distance through the busy streets to Leopolds cafe. This is a well known hub that draws travellers from all over the world. It is an old worn building that's been around since 1871 full of Art Deco features mixed with wobbly ceiling fans, wooden furniture and abstract and traditional art work. It had a real buzz and energy with an instant likeability factor. Leopolds was one of the places to come under terrorist attack and you can still see the bullet holes in the walls and security is still present on each entrance and exit.The menu is extensive and reasonably priced we paid 30 quid for 6 people including drinks. Alice played bar maid and poured the beers (cracking job) Steve entertained with his coin tricks and a great lunch was had by all.

Feeling refreshed we were ready to take on the walk through the stalls lining the main street from Leopolds to the Gateway of India. We made our escape through the Bazzar of colourful Tat stalls avoiding heckling and grabbing when we finally turned the corner to see the Taj Mahal palace and tower Hotel.

The sumptuous hotel is a bend of Islamic and Renaissance styles and dominates the sea front. It's the city's most famous hotel and was built by the Parsi industrialist Jamseti Nusserwanji Tata in 1903. It's said he built it as a stand after being refused entry to the european hotels because he was a "native". After marvelling in it's design splendour we continued along the harbour front past the wonderfully ornate horse drawn guilded carriages known as Victorias. All lined up all asking if we wanted a ride for "very cheap price".

We pushed through the mounting crowds stopping to watch a fight between Indian photographers who charge to take your photo, towards the gateway of India. There were so many people milling around, tourists from all over as well as beggers, numerous hawkers.

The Gateway of India is a towering archway made of yellow Basalt built by the British to commemorate the visit of King George V and queen Mary to India in 1911. It was designed by George Wittet as a ceremonial entranceway to the sub continent, the original was actually made out of papier mache. The stone version was not completed until 1927. In 1948 the last British troops to leave India fittingly exited through the Gateway.

After basking in it's shadow for a while and having our "tourist" photos taken we wandered back through the streets of colonial buildings and to the car for the next stop on the tour.

We really wanted to see the Mahalaxmi Dhobi Ghats but by the time we made our way through the endless traffic jams, passing the Victoria terminus at rush hour we were too late, so we headed instead to the Mahalaxmi temple.

We strolled through back alleys avoiding the cow's and dogs and came out into a packed street of worshippers. The entrance was lined with stalls selling garlands of flowers and the familiar assault on our senses began. The vibrant colours, the sweet and pungent aroma's and constant chattering and heckling surrounded us. We had to leave our shoes outside and then pay protection money to have someone prevent them from being stolen. (genius but a bloody cheek!)

As we climbed the steps we saw the bright exterior murals and carved wooden lintels adorning this opulent temple. Once you have enetred through the temple security scanners you are struck with awe at the explosion of colour and vibrance and join the queue mesmorised like an army of marching ants pushing and shoving their way into leave gifts and pay homage to Laxmi the goddess of wealth.

Men and women are segregated and led through barriers (kind of like getting into a festival or gig) all politeness goes out of the window and you quickly realise it's every man for themselves. We braved the crowds and made our way giggling nervously to the front not knowing quite what was expected of us, getting pinched and prodded on the way. (I think as we were the only westerners in a sea of indians, it was to see if we were actually real)

We finally reached the shrine, bowed our heads, gave our few rupees and in a flash it was over and we made our escape. We then had a go at sticking a coin to the wall to make a wish, if the coin sticks your wish comes true ... Our's did first time!!!

We gathered our shoes, saw our first rat (which was the size of a kitten) and then munched on a deep fried potato burger as we recovered from our ordeal.

Completely exhausted and touristed out we headed back to the hotel to pack and prepare to say goodbye to Flashpacking Luxury!!!

We know Mumbai has so much more to offer and we will return to see the rest at a later date ....

Food For Thought .....

Measure out; One part Hollywood, Six parts traffic, a bunch of rich power moguls, Stir in half dozen colonial relics (use big ones), Pour in six heaped cups of poverty, add a smattering of swish bars/restaurants (don't skimp on quality for best results) add equal parts of mayhem and order, as many ancient bazaars as you have lying around, A hanful of Hinduism, a Dash of islam, throw it all in a blender on high ( adding generous helpings of pollution to taste) and hey presto ..... you've made Mumbai