Bombay

After Mathura we took a train to Delhi to catch our flight to Bombay. We had a funny train experience because we were in the general class, which is basically first come, first sit, others stand for the remaining 3-4 hours. We were standers and the only westerners in that compartment. Everyone was covered in remnants of Holi. Red nails, splotches of pink behind ears, blue in the parts in people's hair. Everyone, in that sense, had a common conversation starter. "Oh, you played holi?" And then from there, you'd hold a conversation of broken English for a few minutes. We met some really great people on that bus. They helped us push our way through with our enormous bags and found us a spot to put the bags once we were on so we wouldn't be forced to just stand with them for the duration. It was hot and Jon and I were crammed in so close that any movement would cause you to bump your neighbor. We played funny games to pass the time-staring contests and alphabet-type games. After about an hour and a half of standing in it, we ere offered seats by some Indian men who were around our age. Most people jump at the chance to talk to us just to practice their English. Very ambitious. And they're so curious about us-what we do, or aims in life. One boy we met had us fill out a survey with random questions like our favorite actor and food. We got in to Delhi finally and hired a rickshaw to the airport. Two men from the train helped us find a good driver and bargain a fair price. The next thing we knew, we were reclined on a plane to Mumbai. We got in late and hired a cab from the airport. He took us to multiple guesthouses-all of which were significantly more expensive than any of the others we had stayed at. We stayed at a Hotel Volga, which was on the famous Causeway, right next to Leopold's (a bar/restaurant from the book Shantaram). It was funny because Jon had read Shantaram, a book about an Australian convict who lived in Bombay for a time, and I was reading it while we were there. And then, everyone we met from then on had read or was reading it. It felt a bit cliche to even hold it-it was as common as the Lonely Planet's guide to India. Our room was about 5 by 7 paces in area with a fan. We were in hot and humid India now and shed our funny winter gear. Our window had a cage on it and in the night, if you sat at it, you could hear the rats rustling in the alley below. Bombay was hot and muggy-it was absolutely impossible to keep clean feet--as it tends to be for me in this country. We crashed the first night after some cheese naan and a Kingfisher from Leopold's. The next day, we met and Italian couple while waiting for train tickets. We decided to venture through the city with them. They were fresh in to India and were still very enthusiastic about hitting all of the must see marks in the book. It was perfect motivation for us to explore a little further. We went to some temples, Chowpatty Beach and a Muslim Mosque that you could only to to when the tide was out. The following day, we took a tour of the largest slum in India, the Dharavi slum (proceeds went back into the slum). It opened our eyes in a way because I had expected a much grimier slum with no order-the kind I was reading about in Shantaram. With tarp and garbage thatched roofs. Beggers. Chaos. It was quite the opposite. They have multiple serious business operations from plastic production, to making clothing. Shops and schools. If we had wandered there by accident, I don't know that I would've been able to distinguish it as a slum from the rest of the city. That evening we bid adieu to our Italian friends and took a night train to Goa, just in time for Jon's birthday.