Tuesday 11 April 2016

Mumbai, India

My only full day in Mumbai and I have run the gamut of tourist experiences.  Although the heat of the midday sun is quite enervating, walking in the shade with its cooler breezes offers enough relief to enjoy being on my own again after the pleasant regimentation of the cruise.  Although English is one of the 14 (?) official languages of India, almost all of the directional signs are in Hindi, so there is not much help there.  But a good map and helpful locals (especially when crossing streets), keeps me pretty much on track.

I start the day with an included buffet breakfast at the hotel.  Since Mumbai is the financial capital of India and a cosmopolitan, sophisticated city I decide I will eat as the residents do.  So lunch on Monday was a French ham-and-cheese croissant; dinner was that wonderful meal at the hotel’s Sichuan restaurant; today’s breakfast includes German specialties (cold cuts, salads, and cheese), American cereal, French pastries, and fresh fruit.  I assume the coffee is local because it was not very good (but at least the milk was hot).  Late lunch this afternoon is Italian:  a very good margherita pizza (I won’t mention it was Pizza Express).  Who knows what international surprise tonight will hold, although I am still rather full from lunch.  

You will probably notice that I have not had any Indian food, even after three days in the country.  Although I had a potato-filled dumpling and a savory millet-dough biscuit this morning, I am beginning to feel like the couple from the Midwest that Will and I met on our trip to China in 1994.  We thought all the food was fantastic and wondered why this couple was always eating candy bars during the day.  One night at dinner, as we delightedly ate their share of the Peking Duck, they told us that they didn't like Chinese food.  I thought how silly to spend 18 days in China without eating all the wonderful things on offer.  So I am sure I will be eating more local foods as I progress through my trip.

Yesterday’s walk through the Cholaba District took me south from the hotel; today I head north through the Fort District, more focused on culture and the arts than on the bargain selling in Cholaba.  There are many wonderful examples of over-wrought Victorian architecture bordering the main avenue on one side; on the other is the wide, green expanse of the Maidan (somewhat like Central Park in its aerating purposes for the city).  My first goal is to reach Central Railway Station, still known to residents by its British name rather than its new Hindi alternative.  This is true of most of the public buildings and main arteries in the city; you just can’t escape the British.  Mumbai is a city that would please any Anglophile.  In the Maidan, various sports are played; even in the heat of the lunch-time break there are professional and amateur cricket teams at bat.

 

Just a few blocks from the hotel is the former Prince of Wales Museum, another stately building set in lush garden grounds.  Museum admission includes an audio tour that gives details about some of the major works.  Although I usually prefer my own guidance, this audio is very well produced and very helpful in placing a variety of historical objects in context.  There is a small exhibit of European paintings, but since I can see them in so many other places, I concentrate on early sub-continent art.  Sculpture from the early centuries BCE and miniatures from the 16^th through 19^th centuries especially peak my interest.  The museum is fairly busy, with a number of well-behaved school groups led by teachers, and pairs of young men visiting the museum on their own.  There are a few non-Indian tourists, but most of the visitors today are locals.  Young men walking in pairs, often holding hands or clinging shoulders, are a common sight in India, since women are not to be touched outside of marriage.

  

 

The museum is not air-conditioned (except for the shop, of course), although there are fans blowing everywhere, so going back out to the shaded streets is actually pleasant.  By 1:00pm I have made it to the train station—having consumed three bottles of liquid along the way.  My original plan was to continue northward to visit the great series of markets leading from the station, but I decide to listen to my body when it tells me that this has been enough for today.  I had hoped to visit another part of the city as well as the markets, but the heat makes it impossible.  When I return to Mumbai for one day before coming home, I think I will sign up for a tour that will allow me to see the parts of the city I have not seen in somewhat more comfort.

 

I then have two fairly-common tourist experiences:  a taxi ride and an encounter with a motorbike while crossing the street.  The taxi from the train station back to the hotel is really quite fun.  The driver is adept at parrying all the other crazy drivers and I never feel uncomfortable, except for the couple of times the taxi stalls in traffic!  The price of the ride (un-metered) is as incredible as the traffic, only $1.20 including a generous tip.  

Since the air is a little cooler near the water at my hotel, I decide to walk to the nearby Gallery of Modern Art, but since only one gallery is open I decide to forego the admission price and return to the hotel.  At a major intersection, I wait for the green light, especially as a rather large public bus is approaching.  The bus stops, but as I start crossing, a motorbike with two riders comes out of nowhere between the bus and me and we make contact.  Fortunately, it is a small motorbike and, although going through a red light, is traveling very slowly.  It is more a bump against my left arm than a real encounter.  Neither the bike nor I are actually physically moved by this meeting, but we do touch.  The driver stops a few feet ahead just to make sure I am still standing (which I am), which gives me time to give him the finger and shout a few curse words.  This would have been a perfect opportunity if I had known even a little Hindi!  Anyway, the moral is, no harm done and I have now been officially initiated into the typical life of Mumbai.  Even though there are traffic police and stoplights at many large intersections, drivers pretty much ignore them.  In Vietnam, the secret to crossing the street safely is literally closing your eyes and depending on the drivers to maneuver around you; in India you must always have your eyes open! (That would make another great motto for the city:  Mumbai--keep your eyes open!)

Mumbai Street Scenes

 

 

I must now prepare my suitcases for travelling tomorrow.  I am leaving my largest bag here at the Taj Palace Hotel, since I will be returning for one night after my tour of Rajanastan and the north.  I am being picked up at 7:45 in the morning (I will have time for breakfast) for my 10:15am flight to Varanasi.  I will report more from there.