One night in Mumbai

We have arrived. Safely.

Tired from the flight, we clear customs, change some money and prepay our taxi fare. In the confusion of a new airport and country we miss the toilet stop and getting some food but we are determined to get some sleep so we find our taxi.

We are quickly learning the value of small money for tipping. having given several generous tips already.

The taxi ride was a feast for the senses convincing us we had arrived in India. Drivers, including ours, honked their horn repeatedly flashing lights at the many small transgressions that everyone was guilty of. Road rules seem more like guidelines- sort of keep left, sort of give way, sort of just push your way through, sort of not hit the pedestrians. Wing mirrors don't exist here and if they did then they wouldn't last long.

We drove past slums and mansions (more of the former), wondering which part of town our hotel was in. It was noisy, crowded, dirty and smelly but we were coocooned in our taxi and we could not take our senses of it all. Occasionally a wiff of some wonderful indian food reached our noses or we caught a glimpse of fireworks, which he had also seen from the plane before landing.

Mobile discos cruised along the streets with bright lights and music entertainging the revellers. At the front drummers and musicians, followed by the clientelle, while the rear was bought up by a truck and a rickety generator on wheels spewing out fumes. It is a novel place to have a boogie but does not help the traffic flow.

We arrived at our hotel. A small archway below a sign in a dingy looking building-what was it like inside? We checked in went to our room. Generously tipped our porter as we had no small notes and surveyed our surroundings. Simple, relatively clean, a place to lay our heads-a relief.