India - Bombay

An epiphany in of all places - India. 

How original.

What do you think of when you think of India?

My first thoughts are, “Bloody hell. 1.2 billion people, mindboggling chaos, choking pollution, burning ghats and unhealthy cows. And for me, Saddhus. I felt compelled to see Saddhus. I love every picture I see of Saddhus. They always strike me as interesting characters.

We seem to relish in the poverty and the destitute and I must admit when I recently ventured to Mumbai and Udaipur I was forever looking for the grubbiest kids, the weather beaten, the down trodden and the impoverished.

But then the thing that jumped out at me is the hospitality, the warmth exuded by most and the graciousness of everybody.

All of this to the cacophony of honking horns, 2 stroke engines belching choking blue smoke, the crash bash of tin being subdued into something practical and blaring Bollywood music.Then from any quarter the inevitable, “Excuse me sir, where do you come from? Australia? Oh Australia has the best cricket team in the world!”

See? Graciousness.

Taking in the scene at The Gateway to India, Bombay

Setting a kid amongst the pigeons. The Gateway to India, Bombay

Laundry Man. Mumbai

Intimidating saris. Mumbai

The Indian twin blade shave. Mumbai

There is no doubt in my mind that India is an intense destination and I worry for those that travel to India as their first adventure. It's a bit like taking up scuba diving and on your first dive seeing whales, sharks, manta rays and Nemo whilst swimming through a wreck. You may aswell just hang up the fins right there and then. You've done it. You can tick that off. Next. 

But you'll be talking about that first dive forever and none will ever compare. But for others it scares them, it's too confronting. Those ones return slightly damaged, I reckon.

India has so much going on. The history is incredible and to be honest I know very little about the joint. The diversity of both the landscape and the people that inhabit it are as varied as breakfast cereals. The cultures, the caste system, the myriads of religions, the colour of people's eyes, the state of their teeth, their physical dimensions - which vary more then anywhere I have ever been. Mongolians are BIG, the Vietnamese are small, Indians come in S, M, L, XL and XXL. Indians come in a melting curry hotpot of shades, shapes and sizes. The colours work in India and other places like Mexico. The colours tell us "we are here", the food smells are distinct, the music is unique and there is a chaotic madness where everyday is moving at such a variety of pace, some fast some slow others meandering away. Similar to Vietnamese traffic.

Gupta pondered the question but his answer was expected. "Buggered if I know."

We met with a taxi driver near the guesthouse we stayed in. I liked the look of him from the word go and engaged him to show us around. I adhered my sweaty existence to the back seat. I slumped into the sagging seat inches away from 2 large speakers and a sub woofer that was belting out a mix of Hindi pop, Bollywood classics and Indian inspired trance. I loved that journey. My head was full of India and it was going by me in a riot of colour, like a Super 8 film. All the time the soundtrack immersed me as we drove through Bombay.

Though our time was very brief in Mumbai it was just the kind of glimpse you need to know where you're head's at. And mine was on kind of knife edge. I was fascinated and enthralled and at the same time needed some tranquility after being in the madness of Saigon for too long.

The next morning at the ungodly hour of 5am, John drove us to the airport so we could fly to Udaipur. We would back in Mumbai before too long so it was a fond farewell to John, not goodbye.

Karen wasn't impressed to see the plane was an ATR turbo prop. She was kind of hoping for maybe a bloody great Boeing I think.

Next stop, Udaipur.