As soon as we stepped out of the airport upon arrival at Mumbai (it was called Bombay until 1996, I don't know why the name was changed) it was pretty obvious, certainly to me and probably even little Toto, that we weren't in Kansas anymore. The teeming, steaming, city, home to about 10 million people, a few million cows and many, many more smells, was as vivid an introduction to India as we could imagine.

 
We were delighted to see the incredible range of colours that made up the gorgeous saris. I think every colour known to man, plus a few that haven't even been named yet, in every hue, from pastel to shocking, could be seen. Classic images of India: the wandering cow clogging up the streets as the pollution belching cabs (glorious Fiats from the 50's would be my best bet) screeched to a halt so as not to disturb the creature that is regarded as sacred to Hindus. Men clad only in shorts and vest creating something from a large pile of scrap with the aid of an oxyacetylene torch (obviously no glasses), huge wealth and poverty side by side, signs of a surge in to the new millennium sitting smartly next to vestiges of British colonialism. Oh what a heady mix!

 
But where, oh where, are the "things" I wanted to see? I'm talking about snake charmers, the odd leper (I know that's probably against a few laws of humanity, or something, but I've never seen one and since I was a small kid at primary school I've been fascinated by the disease. Can I get locked up for admitting such twisted desires?) a rabid dog and of course a great big, fat, plate of curry, a couple of table sized naan breads and a large bottle of Indian beer, so cold that the teeth get chilled as it passes through, on it's way to providing immense refreshment and joy. I'm not sure about the first three "things" but the curry and beer was coming soon. Well just as soon as we could by pass the bovine and beat the other whacky racers out on the street.
 
We gorged on our first plate of "real" Indian food, which, perhaps surprisingly, perhaps not, depending on your view point, was just about as good as the food back in Birmingham! It was fantastic even though (and I tremble as I write this, for it is admitting something far more serious than just wanting to see a leper) it was vegetarian!!! Despite being a meal which I'd normally regard as being made up of garnishes and lacking the mainstay, or quite literally being all gravy and no meat, it was great. Predictably the beer was great too. So was the second.

 
The next day was one for sight seeing. Heide, less keen than me on seeing lepers and rabid dogs, proposed instead that we view some of the fine colonial buildings found all round the city. To sweeten the deal she also mentioned that there was a coffee shop (the Barista chain, regarded as India's answer to Starbucks) just beside the Gateway to India, erected, in a very British colonial fashion and dedicated to celebrate the visit of George V. Very grand, very stout and eminently practical, in a folly sort of way. We pottered on and saw many other grand boulevards and buildings, a cricket oval that was absolutely rammed with youngsters learning the game and those not quite so young being tutored in batting and bowling techniques. Cricket is quite clearly not just a passion in these parts; it's got to be pretty close to being a religion in its own right.

 
Wandering around the seemingly leper and rabies free streets of Mumbai is a mix of dangerous and thirsty work. Crossing the road is either a game to be played only be the insane or those with a death wish. Those dodgy old cabs can actually go pretty quickly when there's a pedestrian to be mowed down, and if they miss you, either by good fortune or a well practiced, matador like side step (Heide even managed a few Oles whilst she piroutted past the oncoming nutters), they'll still get you in the end with the carcinogenic belch they trail behind them. This allied with the stifling heat makes touring on foot quite the chore. Still the bar with the air con was on the other side of the street and there is nothing that'll stand in our way when we so desperately need the refreshment that can only be found in a beer.
 
Along with the olfactory and optical assault that had bewitched us since we arrived we were also bombarded with offers that quite simply, were easy to refuse, from hawkers of everything from: saffron to crappy trinkets, from illegal drugs to wall hangings, pirated cd's to unknown food stuffs but, by far the most interesting hawkers were interested in buying, not selling. These guys were, or so they claimed, on the lookout for folk to appear in the next "Bollywood" blockbuster. Either I just ooze the "it factor" or there was a major new picture about to be shot that required numerous red faced westerners as I was inundated with offers. I would have done it too. But sadly the time frame didn't work and the pay was lousy. Of course I would have been doing it for the glory of the art form, not the money. At least I'll spout this and other such pretentious twaddle as we couldn't make the filming anyway. It would have been an absolute blast I suspect. Ahh well maybe next time.

At times due to the heat and the dust and the pollution, we may have felt like crap, but our clothese were sparkly and shiny and just like new. This is because they'd taken a visit to the Dhobi Ghat, a place where clothes are taken when they've been naughty. (And ours were very, very naughty!!) At this place, a Dhobi Wallah plunges the clothes into big vats of colored water, scrubs them strenuously with a scrub brush and batters the life out of them on a large rock. The upshot is a bunch of very nicely laundered clothes that learn getting dirty is a painful experience.

 
We spent about 5 days in and around this terrific, insane, sometimes contradictory city and frankly thoroughly enjoyed it. Well most of it. Sadly for three days the town went "dry". Due to an odd (my opinion) law when elections are taking place no booze is for sale. Man, I didn't think they did that sort of crazy thing outside Utah! Regrettably we were in town when election fever was at its zenith and dipsomania at it's trough. Ahh well, the curry was still good and at a pinch (and this was definitely pinching) a nice cold, ice cold, coke will save the day.

From Mumbai we're heading on to Ahamebad in the neighbouring state of Gujarat, which is "dry" even when there are no elections being held. Maybe I should open a wee import /  export business shipping beers north? We're wondering if the train we'll board will be rammed to the gills and then some more with folk miraculously and perilously clinging to the trains exterior!