Mumbai madness, and butter chicken
Mumbai Travel Blog› entry 9 of 34 › view all entries
February 3rd, 2010 – by: staceyjamie
I arrived in Mumbai, Bombay, on a sunny, balmy morning, escaping customs rather quickly, although this was nearly flumoxed by an over eager immigrations man who told me " its not possible" when I said I did not no the address I was staying at. So in order to proceed I wrote the Taj Mahal, the only hotel name I could rememeber off the top on my head. As it is, I am staying in a wonderful apartment in the Andheri district of mumbai, in a room with ensuite bathroom, and a wonderful view of a sewer, which when the tide is in can be mistaken for a river..or at least I thought.
- It's loud. I mean unfathomabably loud. Honk, honk, honk. Hock hock, clearing of the back of throats, and the smell and noise of a million trillion auto rickshaws, taxis, and private vechicles vying for space. There are no rules of the road here. He who dares wins. If I was driving there would have been 12 crashes already. Luckily my travel has been restricted to rickshaws, of which I have taken several in the last 48 hours
- The cinemax in Andheri rivals any cinema, actually beats hands down any cinema I have ever been in. Needless to say I sleep clean through Isthya, as didn't understand a word of hindi and there was not enough, singing, dancing and general indianess to keep me engaged past my jet lag. This hit my like a ton of lead bricks
- The fast food is not so good, however mumbain's seam to like it.
- We've had a water shortage already and I have taken my first cold water bucket wash in my luxury abode
- I wish I had more clothes, mumbai dwellers are way trendy is a slightly out of date western european way
- The women and children are breathtakingly beautiful, although all but the most outstanding looking of men, all seam to blend into the multi coloured melle of maleness, and will take some getting used to, as will their penchant for high wasted, tight buttock polyester pants. Too funny
- They can stare... I mean like straight stare you out like maybe you forgot to get dressed that morning
- The woman washing herself, her children and her clothes in the communal toilets in the station was kind of like a public service, dispelling the smell of faeces and urine with lux shampoo and a modest smile as she washed her self clean in the most humble unashamed way I have ever seen from someone doing their private business in a public convenience
- The dharavi slum is amazing, slum dog millionaire barely does it justice, but the words in shantaram nailed it.
- Ganesh is the remover of obstacles and the God of new beginnings. I like ganesh, he is my new dude. I now am a bald headed beautiful women, thanks to my own courage and determination and the arrival of my own personal Ganesh-Long story
- Mumbai will make you a big fat aunty, if you are not careful everything comes cooked in butter, oil, is then fried again, and with an extra dollop of butter added for tasting, lol
What is there to say about this place that has not already been regurgitated in a million different types of prose. But today as I strolled through town in my shalwa kameez and hair looking like a cross between Pam greer in black panther and Bob Marley, I was met with amazement, smiles, laughter, giggles, gossip, hand shakes, requests for my good name, and the cheeky litte tinker who pulled my hair in the train station-even after I had given her money!!! Unamused, shes lucky I did not slap her good and well.
I'm glad I took the time to show mumbai the respect it deserves, instead of just passing through as if it was India's ugly step sister. I will not be sad to leave, although sad to give up the level of comfort I have been experiencing and the beautiful hospitality chantal and her friends have shown me. Puffer fish, bouncy, tight jeans, gym buffs, talk of calories, tattoed teenage girls, silky haired beautys and rickshaw wallahs who seam to only have eyes that look forward, and chantals maid like Hindi ( her words), which I love. Maddachud.xx
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