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My first impressions of Mumbai were gained by driving from the airport to the hotel in the dark - not a great deal of impression at all. So I had to wait until morning to get my first glimpse of the Indian sub-continent.  Throwing the curtains open once the sun had risen, I was greeted with a lush, green landscape, manicured front lawns and the misty mystique of the distant hills, typical of many British Tv period dramas set in this ex-colony. It was time to go and explore!

Checking with the concierge about the state of the weather, he informed me that all roads were open and that they didn't expect the weather to be as bad as Saturday. Liar!!! But taking him on his word, I climbed into a taxi, negotiated a fee of 1300 Rupees ($30) for the entire day and proceeded to point at different photos in my Mumbai City Guide of locations I needed to check out, as way of communication with Sant Singh, my taxi driver.

Shortly following leaving the hotel, the monsoon put on a demonstration of its power. The quantity of water is unbelievable and as 1 wry commentator stated in the newspaper, when it rains "every thing in Mumbai goes down the drain except the water". And it is so accurate.  It doesn't take lengthy for this city, which sits at sea level, to begin to fill up.  Soon we were driving via foot higher flooded roads, massive pot-holes and, at times, no road at all - it had merely been swept away - two sections of "motorway" separated by a stretch of rubble, mud and randomly strewn boulders and rocks. It was a genuine obstacle course. And the most wonderful factor is that no 1 actually appears to take any discover.

The drive from my hotel to the center of Mumbai is about 25 miles and, this becoming a Sunday, the journey took about 45-minutes.  I was lucky - on a weekday the exact same trip, I have been told, takes in between three and four hours! So site visitors was light nowadays. Driving via the outskirts of Mumbai, 1 begins to feel the oppressive dimension of this city filled with twenty million people today.  And with a huge shortage of housing, every single readily available room is taken up with ramshackle, improvised and, virtually, thrown collectively dwellings.  Wherever there are apartment buildings, they are created so shut collectively that window mounted air conditioning units pretty much touch in the void in between 1 making and the up coming. Piles of refuse litter the roadside, coming to existence with stray canines, scavenging birds and the odd particular person, seemingly hunting for any reusable scrap. And then I saw my first cow.

These are not the quite painted ones that seem magically in Boston and London every single summer season, but genuine, reside, wild beasts.  I have generally acknowledged that the cow is a sacred animal in India and have generally witnessed photos of lazy bovines sauntering via crowded streets.  But nothing at all prepares you for the real sight of these massive creatures lying, standing or strolling close to the congested road process of a substantial metropolitan city. Quite a few of them search ill, some even search dead but most just stand there, bewildered and seemingly in a perpetual state of confusion, potentially pondering how the hell they received there in the first put. I am not positive who feeds these animals or if they merely have to forage in the filth like every thing else, but for all the deification of these poor creatures, they actually do not search at all cared for - a incredibly sad spectacle.

Driving into Colaba, the financial and tourist heart of Mumbai, the rain began to get even worse (if that was possible) so I cancelled my plans to check out the first photo I had pointed at (the ornate train station) and revised my itinerary by pointing at another picture - the Prince of Wales Museum. Climbing out of the motor vehicle I was promptly drenched in a warm, sticky and not all that unpleasant deluge of treacle like rain.

In the exact same manner as a Brit abroad speaks English just a very little bit louder in order to be understood by a foreigner, so the architecture in this lost British empire appears to represent a false grandeur of what the British aristocracy deemed acceptable for a conquered nation.  Drawing on 17th century Arabic and Asian models, "Indian" buildings erected by people today named Steven and George end up a caricature of a previous beauty, with all influences from these less complicated eras garishly mixed into 1  [ http://www.incompany.com/blog.php?user=samdonaldson1025&blogentry_id=990424  that movie]  uniquely colonial kind. The museum I was getting into was no exception.  With turrets and golden domes, gothic outcrops and sophisticated Arabic arches, this museum housed some amazing sculptures and paintings from antiquity of different gods this kind of as Siva, Bhrama and the gentle, pot-bellied Ganesh. Yet, following about an hour, hearing the rain end I curtailed my indoor tour and made a decision to head outdoors whereas I even now could.

Upcoming end was the Gateway of India - a massive archway finish in 1924, to commemorate the check out of King George V and Queen Mary. A considerable stone edifice, anachronistically positioned in the middle of unquestionably nowhere, it pretty much created me feel like breaking into patriotic song with a rendition of "Rule Britannia, Britannia Principles the Waves!"  But I didn't. And anyway, I was becoming accosted by adequate people today at the time to chance drawing even even more awareness to myself.  Whereas the put was packed, I appeared to be the only non-Indian there, so I was an painless mark.  I was photographed, prayed for, sold balloons to, presented every single kind of useful snack imaginable and am positive at 1 stage, I was even worshipped - all of course in the expectant return of money. Fighting my way via this rising entourage, I took some snap shots and fled, owning been fleeced of only a number of dollars.

Strolling in direction of a handicraft market place, a community stopped me and pointed strangely at my head.  Staying a sensible and professional traveler, I ignored him, quickened my pace and moved on.  He shouted out some phrases to the impact that there was a little something about my particular person he needed to clear away.  I kept strolling.  About 15 minutes later on, in a crowded street, a 2nd stranger appeared to reenact this odd behavior and, similarly, I ignored him, physically owning to push my way onwards.  Strolling via any market place like this demands the capability to virtually fight your way via the endless stream of stall owners vying for your awareness. Yet, it was when a third particular person stopped me in a quiet side street a great half-hour later on and merely stated that there was a little something in my ear, that I began to take discover of maybe what people today were trying to tell me.

I put my hand to my ear but could feel nothing at all. "Wherever?" I asked.  He pointed in direction of my ear once again.  Feeling close to I even now could not locate anything unusual and owning witnessed most likely the largest cockroach in the history of the world the night prior to, I suddenly had an irrational fear containing eggs and larvae and all issues science fiction. Approaching me, this teenager said in passable English that he would clear away it for me and then proceeded to dig a little something out of my ear utilizing a little tooth pick like device. Triumphantly, he showed me the end of the toothpick, which now had a massive glob of sticky wax-like gloop on the end of it. Smearing this on his finger he proceeded to dissect the yucky substance until he dug out a little stone. Suddenly, the plot of every single horror movie ran via my mind with aliens bursting from my belly and worms exiting every single orifice. "What's it from?" I asked. "Sand," he said, prior to diving into my other ear to retrieve even more of the invasive material. I couldn't believe what was happening because I have by no means had any ear issues in my existence and really make it a point, utilizing a cotton bud, to clean my ears every single morning. So this incredibly rapid develop-up of gunk was, indeed, alarming.

Then my great Samaritan opened his very little shoulder pack and took out some tissue and cotton wool and presented, whereas retrieving a bottle from his bag, to put some drops in my ear to clear the issue up once and for all. I instantly thought that it was incredibly fortuitous that he should conveniently be carrying close to a box of tissues, a packet of cotton wool and the required medication. I declined forcefully!

Due to tiredness or whatever, I didn't actually seem to put collectively the myriad of clues as to where this was all going. Yet, it was when he asked for 900 Rupees for the treatment that I suddenly realized that the entire factor was an elaborate, intricate and perfectly planned scam (of which all the other strangers were similarly trying to spring on me). By means of slight of hand, he had the wax prepared on the end of the toothpick and like the renowned magic trick of creating a coin seem from behind your ear, had me at the reveal. I gave him 10 Rupees for a trick properly executed (and to make him go away) and left feeling angry with myself for falling for the oldest scam in the book! The entire episode took about three minutes and was sublimely surreal. It was time for lunch.