Marvelous Mumbai

Our week in Mumbai was wonderful. Though Kolkata was the capitol of the British Raj for most of its history, Mumbai has the nicest European architecture I've seen so far in India. Though many of the buildings were rundown, the city has wide, tree-lined avenues and a very cosmopolitan feel. 

Our trip began on the train--Hannah and I took an overnight train, while Tangi flew in the morning and met us. Our first stop after settling into the hostel was....Starbucks! 

Starbucks, our home away from home...

They've just opened two in Mumbai, and one was around the corner from where we stayed. We had some awesome sandwiches (so cheap, too! who knew?!) and the first iced coffee I've had in India that didn't taste like liquid sugar. We spent the day walking around the city, enjoying the architecture and each other's company. 

Gateway to India

Prince of Wales Museum

In the evening we met up with the three girls living in Kolkata, who were also in Mumbai for Diwali, and had DELICIOUS seafood at a restaurant recommended to me by my friend Sim. Then we went and sat on Chowpatty Beach, watching the fireworks for the festival explode all along the shore. When we first got there, we saw that many families were sitting on straw mats on the sand and were covetous.  No sooner did we wish for a mat of our own, two guys came running up to us, offering to rent us mats for 10 rupees. Sometimes the abundance of labor here is a blessing. The girls got tired, but Hannah and I wanted to stay out, so we had some more food and sat on the beach and just enjoyed the lovely night.

Incredible seafood at Trishna

Diwali festivities on Chowpatty Beach

The next day we took a cab to Mani Bhavan, the house where Gandhi lived and set up headquarters in Mumbai at the height of his activism, and where the authorities came to arrest him. The museum was small but very heartfelt, with his quotes and writings everywhere you looked. Talk about a life well-spent...

Gandhi's room

We then hopped in a cab to see the Dhobi Ghat, where hundreds of pounds of clothing are washed every day. In fact, the vast majority of Mumbai's clothes are washed here. It's quite a sight, men beating the dirt out of clothes by hand, giant wringers and stands full of laundry detergent.

Dhobi Ghat

 The next stop was Victoria Terminus, site of the dance scene at the end of Slumdog Millionaire, and an incredible colonial structure. We met up with the Kolkata girls and walked from there to Crawford Market, an indoor bazaar over 100 years old.

Victoria Terminus

Crawford Market

The next day we hopped on a ferry to Elephanta Island, a UNESCO World Heritage site for its ancient temple carvings in the rock of the island's natural caves. It was fairly crowded, but the weather was beautiful and the carving was amazing.

Shiva Trimurti: His three faces as Creator, Preserver and Destroyer

 For some reason, so many people on Elephanta, Indian tourists, mostly, asked to take our picture. It got very irritating, especially when we sat on the boat back to Mumbai, stuffing our faces with the sandwiches we'd brought and a group of women with kids started photographing us. But I digress. The sun set as we pulled into the harbor after our long day of walking. 

Taj Palace Hotel framed by Gateway to India 

The Ladies

That night we were supposed to take a bus to Aurangabad, from which we would depart for caves at Ajanta and Ellora. But India, humbling as ever, had other plans. When we got on the overnight bus, we realized it was non-AC. Poor Hannah, who gets very claustrophobic, nauseous and panicky on buses at the best of times, could not fathom being on that bus for ten hours, and back to the city center we went. We spent our last two days wandering the streets, shopping in the "suburbs" and eating more delicious food than we could have hoped for. But the story isn't over.

On Saturday at around 4PM, as we were resting in our hotel, Kara, one of the girls from Kolkata, gave me a call and said that a major politician had just died, and all the stores and restaurants were closing. If we wanted food or anything, she said, we would have to get it now. Having just eaten, we lay down to take naps and went to meet Tangi at her hotel when we woke up. We watched the news first, though, and saw that the deceased politician was Bal Thackeray, a far right leader who founded a party called Shiv Sena, to the right of the opposition party, the BJP. Not only was he a Hindu fundamentalist, he was a Marathi chauvinist, committed to the belief that the people of Maharashtra are superior (especially to neighboring Gujaratis). He was one of the key players in the renaming of Bombay to Mumbai and was held responsible for not a small number of violent attacks against Muslims. He encourages his followers to take action on issues by any means necessary and reportedly had huge power in the Mumbai underworld. Emerging back onto the street in the evening was like walking out the day after a zombie apocalypse. Shiv Sena supporters had called for a bundh, closing, of every business in Maharashtra to mourn the loss of their leader. No buses or taxis were running. Every restaurant was closed, even though we were in the most touristy night-life-y neighborhood in the city and it was 8PM on a Saturday night. The cinema was closed. The convenience stores and paan stands were bolted shut. A few families had congregated to sleep in the park, presumably because it was so quiet for once. We found out the next day that the few places that had tried to stay open were vandalized, their front windows broken and inventory destroyed. The three of us hung out in the hotel, as all the clubs and bars were closed (there goes the famous Bombay nightlife). 

The next morning we packed our stuff and headed to Tangi's, where we ordered room service--the only place we could find food! Our flight wasn't until 4PM but we left around noon, worried about the traffic caused by the all-day viewing of Thackeray's body and his cremation in the evening. There were still no cabs on the road and buses weren't running so we thought we might have to walk a mile to the train station. We found a cab driver who drove a plain car, who offered to take us for 2,500 rupees, when it had cost Tangi less than 400 on the way from the airport by meter. By a miraculous stroke of luck, the one black taxi in the city drove by and agreed to take us for 1,000. As we were on the highway, a motorcycle carrying three guys on it drove right up next to the cab and told the driver threateningly to get off the road before driving away. We made it to the airport in peace and plenty of time, but I certainly said a prayer for the kind cabbie who took a risk to take us. It's very scary that a relatively small group of people can cause through violence so much fear as to shut down an entire city, and one of the biggest in the world at that. I'm sure part of it was that police would also be too afraid of the supporters to take any action against them, not that Indian police are known for their selfless sense of duty in the first place. In any case, we were glad to leave when we did, but I'd go back to Mumbai in a heartbeat.

To see the rest of my photos, click here.
All best from Mother India,
xoxox