Farewell Mumbai...and Ciara

We awake refreshed and if anything slightly chilly, someone had been playing funny buggers in the 'chill' of the Mumbai twilight. We had our breakfast on the roof, my friend keen to absorb every last ray possible and we were soon setting off on our last day as a duo. Having ticked off most of the big sights we headed up to the older part of town, more specifically the shopping bazaars. Now i had been to a few markets in Goa but nothing prepared me for this complete and unforgiving assault on the senses, particularly from the nasal perspective! Within the first 5 minutes of entering the market area we were confronted by the stench of the meat market and all the other usual whiffs that come with being in an Indian city with a population of 16 million. Struggling to keep it together we took another road off and found ourselves in a little juice bar where, well lets say the hospitality didn't exactly make you want to get comfortable. After a quick consultation of the lonely planet map we found ourselves more lost than ever, we weren't looking for anything in particular but in India you'll find all shops of the same type are grouped together, and we found ourselves on stationary street and there aint much cause for rulers and wedding invitations when travelling. We did however get treated to a fight, a typical scene really, a man with a huge bundle of cardboard on his head knocked into a motorcyclist, or vice versa, and all hell broke loose. Now it appears the Indians like nothing more than a good scrap and soon a grown ten deep circled the men and the whole street came to a standstill. Enter whistle blowing, stick wielding police man, who quickly diffuses the situation, not seeming overly concerned about the incident as long as the crowd dispersed. However, with the heat getting to me we jumped in a taxi and got, slowly, whisked through the mayhem back to familiar grounds, and by familiar grounds I mean our rooftop, to catch the last of those precious rays you know. We spent our last evening dining in a slightly less sophisticated joint than Gaylords, they actually let us sit inside (a fact i omitted from the last entry), and then went across to the infamous Leopold's bar (a target of the Mumbai terrorist attacks alongside the Taj hotel, although Leopolds seem a little more proud of their heritage than the Taj, showing off the still prominent bullet holes in the walls with pride). We were shown upstairs to a packed bar and a table which hung precariously next to a 15 feet tumble back down them again, we declined and they managed to shoehorn us into the equally packed restaurant downstairs. We order one of the 3ft beer pitchers which i dully spill half of on the table after a little tap malfunction. We sip away at our final pints and reminisce over the last 3 weeks and my friend comes to the conclusion that this would probably be her last trip to India, I can't understand why!!?

We get up early and catch some morning rays on the roof and say our farewells before my friend embarked on the long journey home and as I say I'll think of her in the pouring rain and cold of England she replies she'll think of me when shes tucked up in her nice cosy, clean, cockroach free bed, touché my friend, touché!

So once again I was left to fend for myself and with my train not departing for Ahmedabad until 10pm I had another day to enjoy Mumbai. My friend being reluctant to spend any time indoors I hit the art galleries and museums. Once again I was confronted by racist entry fees and SHITax at every corner and soon I found myself taking refuge in a Cafe Coffee Day (Indias answer to Starbucks which appear with greater frequency than any Starbucks in Edinburgh, but probably not as frequent as Greggs in Glasgow, that would be hard to top). I wandered away the rest of my day and then headed back to the hotel where they gave me use of a bathroom to freshen up (although i think it may have been used by the staff judging by how many times the handle rattled). I was soon being taken to mumbai Central station, which didn't feel that central after half an hour in the taxi, where I boarded my train, yet again finding myself in sleeper class next to the toilets, more lessons were to be learnt very soon!