While our welcome to Mumbai was not quite as elaborate as that given to Queen Mary and King George (they had the Gateway to India built for them), our hotel was standing when they arrived right across the street. Our welcome was actually a very modern one--into a huge airport akin to Narita or Dubai where I had the sense I could be anywhere and where, if I were so inclined, could buy the same luxury goods.
Much to my surprise our bags were waiting for us and we went through passport control very fast. The driver was waiting just outside. Gone were the dozens of noisy and persistent would-be porters and taxi drivers I remembered upon arrival in Delhi in 1980. Some of those memories came back though on the hour long ride to the hotel--all sorts of vehicles, every driver using the horn continually ( this must help drivers to vent their frustration as it does little else to affect traffic), most driving very aggressively. But our brand new Toyota van was air-conditioned and our driver and assistant were friendly and happy to answer all of Peter's questions and narrate the sights. And I could just look at my feet when necessary, a trick I learned last year in Congo.
Weather is "hot, damned hot" and there is a visible haze that is partly humidity and mostly air pollution. We are managing with non-stop water when outside.
Our hotel is the magnificent Taj Mahal Palace--the very same one that was attacked by terrorists who came to shore right across the street. Now there is a security system involving a metal detector one must navigate before entering. Once inside we were greeted by a welcoming hostess who applied bindi (dot of red powder) to our foreheads and garlanded us with seed necklaces. Our check-in was handled by someone else while we waited in the beautiful garden near the sheltered large swimming pool with a welcome drink of mango juice.
After a nap we managed a foray to the rooftop Souk restaurant for a light meal, looking out on the lights of Mumbai's harbor to the Arabian Sea. Then it was back to bed for a long and good night's sleep despite the horns.
Under the heading of Not That Food Is Important (NTFII henceforth), I enjoyed a breakfast of dosa, vada, sambar, idli with coconut chutney, and uttapam. All these South Indian delicacies were accompanied by fresh watermelon juice. Based on his food choices, the staff has decided Peter is German, but I won the "homie" contest.
Pictures to be inserted as soon as I can figure out how I did it last year in Brazzaville. In the meantime I will post some on Facebook.
Much to my surprise our bags were waiting for us and we went through passport control very fast. The driver was waiting just outside. Gone were the dozens of noisy and persistent would-be porters and taxi drivers I remembered upon arrival in Delhi in 1980. Some of those memories came back though on the hour long ride to the hotel--all sorts of vehicles, every driver using the horn continually ( this must help drivers to vent their frustration as it does little else to affect traffic), most driving very aggressively. But our brand new Toyota van was air-conditioned and our driver and assistant were friendly and happy to answer all of Peter's questions and narrate the sights. And I could just look at my feet when necessary, a trick I learned last year in Congo.
Weather is "hot, damned hot" and there is a visible haze that is partly humidity and mostly air pollution. We are managing with non-stop water when outside.
Our hotel is the magnificent Taj Mahal Palace--the very same one that was attacked by terrorists who came to shore right across the street. Now there is a security system involving a metal detector one must navigate before entering. Once inside we were greeted by a welcoming hostess who applied bindi (dot of red powder) to our foreheads and garlanded us with seed necklaces. Our check-in was handled by someone else while we waited in the beautiful garden near the sheltered large swimming pool with a welcome drink of mango juice.
After a nap we managed a foray to the rooftop Souk restaurant for a light meal, looking out on the lights of Mumbai's harbor to the Arabian Sea. Then it was back to bed for a long and good night's sleep despite the horns.
Under the heading of Not That Food Is Important (NTFII henceforth), I enjoyed a breakfast of dosa, vada, sambar, idli with coconut chutney, and uttapam. All these South Indian delicacies were accompanied by fresh watermelon juice. Based on his food choices, the staff has decided Peter is German, but I won the "homie" contest.
Pictures to be inserted as soon as I can figure out how I did it last year in Brazzaville. In the meantime I will post some on Facebook.
Thank you for including us in your travels. As an enthusiastic reader of your previous travel blogs, I look forward to learning more about India and reading your wonderful observations about life there.
ReplyDeleteGerry