Pictures from Elephanta Island

Back to the Grindstone

It was with a heavy heart that Suzie and I returned to Mumbai, our stay in Goa had not been long enough. We were just starting to get used to pootling around on the scooter, sitting by the pool, tucking into the local seafood and soaking up the sun. I was also due to have a job that evening as soon as I got back, no rest for the wicked.
It was back to the same hotel again and the same four walls. Suzie only had one full day left before going back and sure enough I was at work for most of the day.

As luck had it though the job was postponed until the following day, so we headed out for food, accompanied by Chodu, to the local Krishna restaurant. We had a lovely dish there called Masala Dosa, a South Indian dish which is a like a cross between a pancake and a taco and is a foot long - should have got a picture. In the middle is a stuffed potato mix of sorts with spices added too of course. This was the third time I'd been there and it is often spent with Chodu trying to help with our order and bickering with the staff

Suzie spent a lot of the next day in the room and took full advantage of the in room dining. Although that is a chore in itself. Her attempts at ordering Spaghetti al a Pomodoro (essentially just a pasta & sauce) were not without struggle, it took several visits from several members of staff and a few phonecalls in between before they finally managed to produce the food. The staff at the hotel are friendly and helpful, sometimes too helpful, but their english is awful. My Hindi is obviously rubbish but, in India English is one of the first languages they are taught, sometimes even before Hindi. I wonder how they are taught though, as I cant understand their english with the indian accent and they cant understand me, no matter how hard we are both trying. The Spaghetti al a Pomodoro wasn't too good either, according to Suzie they doused it in garlic. 

This is another thing I have discovered about Mumbai at least, they like things well flavoured and with sauce, or gravy as they call it. If you order a dish in a restaurant that you know is not going to have sauce they will warn you that it is dry and would you like gravy. I was under the impression before I arrived here that we in Britain like our food covered in gravy and traditionally in India they like it dry. Not one restaurant have I seen that so far where they have it dry. Go figure?

Thursday gloomily came and so it was that I bode farewell to Suzie. I was hoping I could spend some time with her at the airport and see her off but we quickly found out that as soon as you drop off from the car at the entrance to departures they wont let anybody in who isn't a passenger, I guess because of tightened security since the bombings. So our parting was brief. I sulked in the back of the car on the way back from the airport and with a free day at hand I was somewhat at a loose end and with no real plans. There is always a visit to a temple, . . . maybe not.

I had a couple of jobs the following day and some returning clients, Lolita & Amitab who bicker with each other like a married couple. They very kindly bought me a scented candle for the suite. All very feminine I'm sure you're thinking. All I can say is, if you smelt the garlic coming through the air conditioning at lunchtime you'd know why I need it, it is quite overpowering.

Although lacking in enthusiasm I decided to take a day out on Sunday. I still hadn't visited Elephanta Island and the old temples in the caves so thought that would be a good trip. Chodu of course offered to be my guide and warned me not to buy any guide books or ask for a guide, he had been there many times and he knew all about it so it was a waste of money. Yes, well, whatever he says. We would have to take a slow ferry out to the Island from the Gateway of India in South Mumbai. This of course included an hours journey to the port, in what was surely the scariest taxi ride I have been in so far. I think maybe I prefer the traffic of a weekday to the quieter streets of a Sunday morning. When I say quiet streets it is of course still relatively busy. 

One thing I have noticed since being here is that people in India queue in very much the same way as they drive. Although Indians consider themselves very laid back to the point of lying down they still seem keen to push in as if they are in a hurry to get somehwere, it's somewhat of a paradox. If they are so comfortable about things running late and are not pushed for time, what benefit does it have to push a few places in a line of traffic or in a shop?

The ferry ride to Elephanta Island was quite a disappointment. The journey itself was pleasant a nice slow smooth run, but the scenery wasn't quite the sun-filled horizons of the sea I was hoping for. The sun was there but so it seemed were lots of oil plants and oil tankers slowly chugging along and across our path. All I saw were small smoking platforms littered across the water and tankers shipping between them. It made the whole event of turning up at the Island a bit of an anticlimax. I was almost in fear that the Island itself was an oil plant. I still think one part of it might be. Elephanta though was quite pleasant. A pathway lead into the shore where little stalls and sellers offered there goods of food and souvenirs. I was then confronted by an old lady who knew the business of tourism very well. So far when I have been taking photos of people I have been the one to ask for the picture then took it upon myself to offer them some rupees if required. This lady was obviously a professional and instantly asked me to take a photo of her in return for a dollar. She knew exactly what she was doing. She even had a pot sitting on top of her head for full effect. I wouldn't be surprised if it was glued on. I still happily obliged as it was fairly amusing. We strolled on and up the hill trying to avoid getting into a sale with a souvenir seller and snapping away at the odd monkey that was hanging around.

By the time we were at the top both Chodu and I were dripping with sweat and we weren't the only ones. The heat of the day was incredible, it had to be hitting forty degrees and I was quickly going through my ration of water. We had to go through a ticketing both at the top which had the same principals as the Chhatrapati Shivaji Museum, 10 rupees for an indian and 250 rupees for all foreigners. I asked Chodu if he could tell them I was Indian, that I was born here even though I was white and didn't speak Hindi, we both thought it would was funny but thought against trying it out.

The temple caves themselves were amazing. As it turned out Chodu knew very little other than the caves were old, a good guide might have been handy. The caves contain reliefs of the god Shiva that date back to the Gupta empire 250 AD. (got that from wikipedia so could be wrong).

It is not as impressive to see outside as the Petra caves in Jordan but they are still impressive to see inside. It was pleasant enough to spend an hour or two there strolling around taking snaps and watching the monkeys causing trouble, stealing food and peoples water.

The heat of the day was too much though and I headed back to the hotel. This included what was in fact the scariest cab journey of the day, I take back what I said earlier. Hopefully the next ride in the cab will be a little slower.

When I returned to the hotel I challenged chodu to a game of Carrom, of which I had bought a board a few days ago for 300 rupees, not bad considering they cost £45 in england if you want one. I had played this game in the past with an old flat mate who had also got one from India. It is a simple game really, you basically have to flick draught counters into four corner pockets then end with the final jack counter at the end. I say simple, you actually have to use a striker draught to hit the others so there is a skill to the flicking I guess. I managed to win three games in a row, yet at a very suspect play by Chodu who I'm sure let me win. I'll try to believe it's beginners luck.

Goan Relief

I firstly should apologise for the awfully written previous post. It was written in the early hours on of the 18th and reading back now it would appear I was somewhat tired at the time. Not that this one will be any better I expect. I have now made some corrections and I’m sure I’ve still missed some. However it does go towards some proof of the following days I had install for me.
After Sunday’s early start the rest of the week was filled with some very long days at work. So much for seeing Suzie as I’d hoped. Monday wasn’t too bad as I had the chance to spend the morning and some of the afternoon with her before work.
I revisited the Mahalaxmi temple and added a further Rahki to my collection. This is not an intentional thing but it is the path that you seem to follow with Chodu on your route out. We both received a Bindhi each, this time I quickly took mine off, being a little less frightened of what the gods might do this time. Outside the temple is a short lane where street sellers and old ladies look after your shoes for a few rupees and sell a plate of offerings to take into the temple. I took a few snaps of Suzie with her blessed items and her newly adorned Bindhi. Within seconds she was swarmed by some girls wanting there picture taken with her, so I appropriately obliged and they all found it highly entertaining. We then found Chodu arguing with an old lady who had been pushing us to get her to look after her shoes but we had refused. So to settle matters we offered her a few rupees and I bartered her for a photo. It seems the trick of getting a photo works very well as her and her friend had a good laugh observing the pictures I had taken. The digital camera is a good invention in that respect.
From then on the next few days were dominated by work. I had two jobs a day from 10 until 11 at night and hardly saw Suzie at all. Yohann kept offering to take us out for a meal but it didn’t materialize until Wednesday night and only just. I raced back to the hotel (I of course have no control over that, plus you never go over 40kph so you can hardly call it racing) and we were out for 10.30 in the evening. Just as well they eat late in Mumbai.
Friday couldn’t have arrived sooner. Having managed to secure a few days away with Suzie, much to the companies’ approval, we jetted off to Goa for some sun and relaxation. It has come as a sweet relief compared to the madness of Mumbai. Several weeks of travelling around in a car everyday with the dirt, pollution, overcrowding and noise can become quite overwhelming. Goa feels like a whole different world. I guess when most people come to India they soon head for the hills, the beaches and the villages and I’m glad I’ve managed it too.
We arrived in a sweet little place run by a British couple a couple of hours drive south from the main city of Old Goa. There are a few beaches round the corner and a good few bars and restaurants. I’d guess the area has received a little bit of the tourist treatment since the backpackers started arriving many years ago. It is not too its detriment though and helps us western travellers soak up the Goan landscape while feeling a little at home. Suzie and I are prime examples of this and took full advantage the following morning, tucking into a tasty English breakfast.
We have since hired a scooter and taken a little drive around visiting the local beaches and temples, making way for the many cows, goats and buffalos that idly roam the roads as they please. The scenery of Goa is absolutely beautiful and it’s not until you are out and about riding around the country roads that you can take it all in. The scenery is laced with flat plains of Palm trees and paddy fields, Buffalos bathing, women walking along the side of the road carrying many a large parcel on their heads. You then head up into the hills for breathtaking views of the sea.
I only wish we could stay a little longer and the thought of heading back into the cluttered abyss that is Mumbai isn’t a cheery one.

Mumbai's New Arrival

The next day after Holi was a waiting game. I was counting the hours as they slowly drifted by for Friday was to be the arrival of my wife Suzie. The day was spent with a lovely chap called Prasoon (i've probably spelt that wrong), a director from Corcoise films. The day ran smoothly and the commercial was looking good. Prasoon was good company too and had some funny anecdotes regarding India. He is a keen cricket fan (which Indian isn't?) and we talked about the upcoming IPL (Indian Premier League). I explained that I was more of a Football fan and not much of cricketer and he commented on the fact that Indians weren't really designed for football and cricket was a more appropriate sport, it suited the Indian way of life, a more relaxed sport with less athleticism.
Prasoon informed me that if you look into the Guinness Book of Records you will find that India more has most of it's records in there for not actually doing anything. Such as, the man who grew the longest beard, or the man who had the longest nails. Or my favourite, the man who sat in the same spot for 5 consecutive days,
As the day went along I noticed that Prasoon kept picking into these little foil wraps and chewing on what appeared to be sweets. So I thought I'd ask if I could have a try. He warned me wouldn't e offended if I spat them out as a few people had asked before and not enjoyed them. They were small stone like sweets of varying sizes rather like the spacedust you can get back home that you put on your tongue and it fizzes. It smelt sort of fresh and I imagined it would be somewhat refreshing to the mouth. I soon discovered that to eat it was rather like chomping into a bar of soap, a little bit to fresh. It was really quite disgusting and sure enough I spat it out, much to Prasoons amusement. As it turns out it is very popular in India and men often eat it like chewing tobacco. This was in fact the very tobacco version I'd heard about. They also do a sweet variety, wish I'd had that one. My mouth for the next day still had the taste in it, it is called Masala Pan and I shall never eat it again.
Friday arrived at last and I was up and breakfasted and awaited Chodu to pick me up.
I told myself that I would ask Chodu to help find me a flower garland on the way that I could give to Suzie as a welcome present. A traditional Indian blessing I thought. As you might guess, in my haste to get to the airport on time, fidgeting in the back of the car, checking my watch every 5 minutes, I clean forgot. It wasn’t until I mentioned it to Suzie later that I was chastised for it. If only I kept my mouth shut. Naturally when Suzie arrived I excitedly told her all about Mumbai and gave her a running commentary in the car with a brief outline of the lay of Mumbai city, as if I was the seasoned resident who knew the City like the back of his hand, . . . as if!
I let Suzie head back to the hotel where she could have a few hours sleep after the sleepless flight. Suzie made fast work of demolishing the room with her stuff neatly thrown around the room and sure enough she had arrived. I of course had kept the room spotless since I had been there.
Yohann invited us over to the local offices later in the afternoon, so we took a stroll over and Suzie took in the sights of the local shops, Mango, Wrangler, Nike & Puma. A very modern Mumbai. Aijaz met us there sat us down and chatted to us for a few minutes then the next thing I knew we had been given a brief tour of the office and paraded in front of Namit, Narij (his Dad) and the head accounts guy (can’t remember his name). I certainly found it quite daunting to when it happened to me so it was particularly weird when it happened again with Suzie.
Later on we headed down to the Sea View hotel on Juhu beach to eat have some cheap food and a couple of fine quality Indian Fosters. More importantly it would give Suzie a chance to relax in the company of Chodu. He had been my guide and helper for the past few weeks so I had got used to him, Suzie would also need too. I should explain that since my time in Mumbai, when I often go out for dinner in the evenings I am somewhat reliant on Chodu to guide me to a suitable eating venue and one, which I hope, is as he says good quality and popular with the Mumbai residents. This very oddly entails me sitting and ordering for myself while Chodu sits and watches. He may occasionally join in, depending on the restaurant and how much I nag him to eat. I understand the nature of our relationship means he will never really sit with me in a restaurant or anywhere and join in but I guess that is just the way. As it often turns out Chodu manages to find the right kind of restaurant where he can join in not just with the food but the odd beer too. I don’t mind this at all and it eases any kind of awkwardness I feel. Hence the Sea View suited Chodu ideally and he tucked into the odd beer or three. I regaled Suzie with my adventures of Mumbai and the people I had met and the many temples I had visited, little did she know she would be visiting them the following day.
So henceforth that morning we headed down for a whistle stop tour to South Mumbai and revisit (for me anyway) the popular tourist sights. This is of course mostly made up of sitting in the car watching out the window. Getting to South Mumbai from our location takes a good hour or so. We stopped of for a Thali lunch in a very friendly local restaurant in the area called Chetana. A very smiley chap served us our food with explanations as to what was what and why – which I’ve forgotten already. I politely asked if I could take a photo of him, at which point he became duly embarrassed and the smile disappeared. I caught it eventually but it took a few goes. After the heat of the day and evening approaching we headed back to the hotel where we promptly passed out. Sunday was also lurking down upon me with a grim 7am job. Far too early.
A long hard day was had with a South Indian director who I struggled to understand. He was very sweet but it was slow getting things done. I explained to a few of his team that I was having trouble understanding him and they nodded and said, “Yes we do, he’s South Indian you see”. They didn’t seem to have any problem? The footage was lovely so I as tough as it was I enjoyed it.
Suzie and I have a trip to Goa planned now at the end of the week for a few days of sun and relaxation. Having spent what will have been five weeks of living and breathing the intensity of this chaotic city it will be a pleasant relief.

HOLI!

As I sat in the back of the taxi on the way home from work on Tuesday night dodging in and out amongst the traffic I  caught the sight of many a fire burning on the side of the road and groups of people standing around with joyous faces. "Look Sir, Look, many fires" Chodu kept say as we passed one after the other. He was getting quite excited by the fact that 'Holi' was upon us, the festival to celebrate the changing of the seasons. Tonight was called the 'Burning' when the festival begins. Fires are burned as a ritual to send out the old season and tomorrow would be 'Colour' the bringing in of the new season. This was what I was waiting for. Chodu gave me strict instructions to stay in doors for the morning as I could be at risk of getting quite covered. 

"But it'll wash out wont it Chodu?" I asked. "No sir maybe not" he replied. "Oh, okay". I was in to minds as to wether to heed his warning, it's true I wasn't exactly prepared, I didn't have any old clothes on me. But I figured I'd take the chance. Chodu warned me I would hear the noise on the street in the morning and sure enough I would see it.

I awoke the following day to the sound of a somewhat quiet street and very little commotion. A few people were walking past, a rickshaw scooted by and the odd splat of paint was on the road but, other than that the shops were shut and all was relatively quiet. Most confusing. I grab the clothes I had designated to be less worthy than the others and ventured outside. After a short walk around it appeared that I was obviously staying where in a quieter part of town for Holi.

I went back to the hotel had some lunch waited an hour or two then found the gumption to  venture out further, this time taking my camera. Also in the hope that if paint was flying then it will have at least calmed down a little like Chodu said it would. I wandered the streets towards Bandra area and the sea which I figured if I headed roughly west wouldn't be far. The day was very much starting to feel like a summers sunday, the odd person roaming the roads and a few paint splats here and there but all seemed relatively calm.
As I ventured further on through Mumbai's quiet tree-lined avenues I saw the odd group of guys hanging around covered in paint and throwing a few around. I came across one group still throwing paint and dancing around very jovially, so I took the liberty of asking if I could take the picture of them, half expecting to get pelted in paint. They were very obliging and indeed very courteous. They seemed very sure not to cover me in paint in but simply to offer a splodge of paint for my forehead and they all shook my hand and wished me happy Holi.
I travelled further and discovered round this way it was very much the case. Groups of friends or families were sitting in coffee shops chatting and drinking, either covered in paint or not. I guess the more gentrified area where I was strolling was more reserved in there celebrations.  I carried on my stroll to the sea which was further then I thought and not quite where I thought I was going to reach but  I got there at least. On my way I saw an elderly old fellow who looked like his home was the very path where he was sitting and I exchanged a photo for some rupees.
It looked like he had been the target of some thorough paint bombing, absolutely covered in paint. I think it is considered a good blessing to cover those who are worse off than you, Gurus of the like and children. I sat by the front for a while and took in the view, trying to cool down from the afternoon sun. I thought it might be an idea to stroll to Juhu Beach  but a kindly soul informed me that would be a long walk so I decided to stroll back the way I came, if not just to see if I knew the way I came. that in itself was a pleasure, time was not of he essence so I meandered along catching the odd paint throwing incident on the way back. I did notice in particular that it was the young men who were the most covered and most keen to get covered or cover. 

I gained a few more splodges of paint on my cheeks, again, very carefully applied, during my return journey. I then thankfully found my way back, stopping off to watch cricket being played by the kids in the local park. They wee all winning as far as I could tell. All in all I'd been out for a good few hours. My Holi may not have been the ecstatic extravaganza of flying paint and jumping around but it was rewarding enough to share in the small exchanges and best wishes for Holi. It seemed the indian people where I live were going to enjoy Holi but, they were going to make the most of a day off as well.

When I arrived back at the hotel to check for the missile explosions I was convinced I received it seems I got off likely. However the two extra paint smudges I had on my cheeks had all but disappeared from the heavy perspiration, just the very first forehead smudge to show.

Slow News Week

It has been another week since my last post and life in Mumbai is is slowing to a more everyday pace. After seeing the sights and sounds over the past couple of weeks you it is easy to find yourself getting into a certain kind of pace and attitude. There is still much to learn and see in Mumbai and many things I have not tried yet. 

Work has been my strongest focus this week so in an attempt to abandon a little of the sightseeing I knuckled down to concentrate on work. The bookings haven't been flying in and with hard times ahead they wont do but I have had a good share, even finding myself working until 3 in the morning one evening. I fortunately have the attitude that I really dont mind what time or day I work while I'm here. Being out here by myself without Suzie means I have nothing to go home to so I'll take whatever comes. It seems you will always get the chance to rest anyway. The Mumbai people take life very easy it seems and as a result it can be a little frustrating dealing with bookings at work, even the clients are happy to let things run late or not quite run on time. One of the first things I was told when I arrived here was that 10 minutes usually actually means a good half hour or more. Everyday it takes almost an hour to get to work from my hotel which if it wasn't for the traffic would take 10 or 15 minutes. Ces't la vie I suppose.

Now curry as delicious as it is cannot be sustained as a suitable diet in my opinion. I am trying my best to vary my food as much as possible. It is not the risk of the upset stomach that a curry might give me but the amount of fat that lies in it. Everything is cooked with butter or ghee. You can feel a curry sitting in your stomach after you have eaten it, surely not good. The portions they serve are helping either. So after my first day at the office on Monday I thought I'd have a change. Chinese! Yes I know that isn't any better, I had in mind a noodle soup or something light maybe if I could. So I checked with my trusty helper Chodu who recommended a place called Yoko Sizzlers. Hmmm, not sure with a name like that they'll be serving noodle soup. I could at least try it anyway and the indians in Mumbai apparently love a chinese. So I hurried off down there after work and swiftly ordered the Chicken in Oyster sauce, I asked for rice too but not sure he got that bit - no, they didn't do noodle soup. As I sat waiting for my food I could see plate after plate of hot smoking dishes coming from the kitchen. The glee on peoples faces as they were served these great big dishes was obviously a good indication of why this place was so popular, Yoko sizzlers is the place to get your smoking chinese, and the crowds were coming in, lucky I got there when I did.

Then as if by magic my chicken in Oyster sauce arrived and, if I was worried I'd get a little jealous of the sizzling platters then fear not because mine was too. However it certainly didn't resemble what I know as Chicken in Oyster sauce. What appeared before me through the thick haze of smoke as I began to identify with my watery eyes, was what looked like a plate of chicken, chips and veg covered in a gravy of sorts, and not very oystery at that. In fact, chicken, chips and veg might have been the better description. Sizzling though, sorry I forgot to mention sizzling. I ate it all down but with some confusion as to the translation of the dish. at my second attempt of chinese cuisine in Mumbai I had been foiled again. Politely as I could I tried to explain to Chodu that this wasn't my usual sort of cantonese but he assured me this was a great chinese restaurant. Lovely as it was I would like to take issue with the indian variation of a chinese dish. After a conversation later with Suzie she informed me that our translation in Britain of chinese cuisine isn't entirely correct either. True, but I'm pretty sure it's a lot closer than the indian version.

A lot of my view of Mumbai during the week are from the company car. As flash as a company car sounds, this isn't by any means. It is a TATA brand  - a huge indian company by the late Jamstji Tata, considered the father of the indian industry - and is similar to a ford fiesta I guess and a bit knackered, like most cars in Mumbai. No surprise too considering the loony attitude towards driving here. I am for the most part clinging on to the door in fear and staring out the window from the back seat, watching the street sellers - selling food from stands, some form of chewing tobacco and masala milk -, beggars, people going to and from work, the occasional fight that seems to happen between a couple of drunk guys, the local market we pass on the way to work with all the Tata lorries parked outside, the many dogs, goats and cows wandering the streets. I love the fact that the cows are just left to their own devices to wander around wherever they wish and they seem very happy for it too. 

That is one of the nice things about India. Being predominantly hindu the cow is therefore sacred but with reference to an earlier picture they will happily sell you a burger in a restaurant, yet never on the menu in most curry houses. 

One of the toughest things when you are in the car are the young children that come up to you and beg. I have been advised by the guys hear to ignore them, you give money to one and there will be a swarm they say, but it is hard and I will sometimes cheerfully play hand games against the window, which at least makes them smile. I have vowed that on my last day I shall have a good handful of rupees that I will give out at the right time. As a result it is nice to get out and walk around sometimes to see Mumbai, I haven't had a great chance to, apart from weekends, when I can have a full day of sightseeing when you can take in the atmosphere of it all. Sitting in the backseat of an air conditioned car isn't quite the same. I have taken a stroll from my hotel now and again but try not to wander to far as I often get lost and during the day it is so hot, dusty and noisy it can get quite intense. I do in fact have a group of cows sat on the street corner  just down the road from my hotel, looked after by a little old lady who feeds them long grass. I'm guessing she gets the straw from the market and pays for that from selling the milk from her cows. I will ask if I can feed them one time for a small price to her. (I have supplied a picture in fact on an earlier post).

Wednesday was the the night for my long job until 3am the next day. I started late enough so didn't mind too much and the following morning I was lucky enough to have a lie in. It hasn't been easy to sleep here in Mumbai though, it is getting hotter all the time and there are always various noises coming from outside. I have missed breakfast a good few times and am often getting up late, so considering now that I have Marmite I'd like to put a stop to that.

The following day I was scheduled to visit the Adlabs offices of Prime Focus in Film City to discuss some projects with a chap called Rohann who heads the Digital Cinema department over there. They make many of the Bollywood films in that area and I caught a glimpse of some filming as we drove through the complex of roads and slums that make up the complex, no idea what it was for though. Film city is situated in the Northern part of Mumbai where the city of Mumbai develops into Jungle terrain. Chodu informed me that many Leopards lurk in the area and small children have been known to go missing. Other people have said the same so I quite believe him. I met a chap called Merle when I arrived waiting around, not for me thankfully as he had been there since way before I arrived. He had come over from LA from a company called PostLogic, now part of the Prime Focus group. He was there chief engineer and was helping the guys over here calibrate there machines and help with the set up. We had a good natter and a laugh about our experiences of Mumbai, mainly the crazy driving and large portions of curry - just as our large portion of curry was arriving for our lunch. Far too much - again! We checked a job that was in and I gave my expert eye over some grading that had been done. I make that sound far more important than it actually was. One of the main factors that we wanted to go over there for we weren't able to due to some technical issues. So after a couple of hours of being there and Merle and I trying to discuss a few more things to make our stay worthwhile we were off again. We probably spent more time in the car getting to and from Film City then we did there, it kind of felt like we didn't achieve much but it seems in India this is often the case. I do not mean this as a criticism by the way, much of the infrastructure in india is still developing a little so it is an accepted part of life that things may sometimes take a little time. The journey to Film City requires part of the journey being made on Motorway. All I can say is Merle and I were hanging on for our dear lives. No seatbelts in the back, even though Merle refused to believe that and clung to his mercilessly. I went back to the office and Merle had a meeting with Namit (the owner) about some engineering plans. It seems it was quite a lengthy full on meeting for Merle as i got a phonecall asking if I'd like a few beers, because he was certainly going to have some if I wasn't. So I requested that we visit the Irish bar round the corner so I could sup a nice pint of Guinness. We had a good chat and a few pitchers of beer and I enjoyed my Guinness, unfortunately at the penalty price of 500 rupees or thereabouts - almost £8! That was of course saved by Merle or rather the company expense they allowed us. I think I'll stay off the Guinness from now on though. In fact that night meant I'd stay off beer for a couple of days. We certainly didn't drink excessively but I sure felt dreadful the next day. 

Another long day in the office for quite a nice job the following day helped me cope with any hangover. The client was pleasant and the footage I was grading was lovely.

I did however find myself offering to work Saturday morning at 8 to make a few minor finishing touches, no excuse for missing breakfast. No company driver in the morning, too early for him it seems, so I hopped in a taxi to work. The air was slightly cooler and the streets a little quieter at the weekend, especially at that time. I had the rare treat of seeing the market we drive past in full flow. All the Lorries parked up and being unloaded of there fish and meat, handed down and being sold to the local purveyor, while women sat on the floor quietly, surrounded by the chaos around them, with their whicker baskets in front of them piled with chillies, spices, herbs, aubergines, melons, tomatoes and various vegetables and fruit I couldn't identify. You could smell the fish as almost if they were still in the sea and the added aromas of the herbs, spices and vegetables made for a wonderful treat. I cursed not having my camera and vowed  I would be back on another morning, camera in hand. Lets hope I can get up on time. 

Another sightseeing day this Sunday. Chodu had been suggesting the Ghandi Building and the Aerocenter all the time, so I told him to take me there for the day. The Ghandi center although great from the outside was a little disappointing inside. I was hoping you could go to the top and maybe steal a view of Mumbai but no such luck, they were all offices from the 3rd floor up. So I walked around the 2 floors hosting some local paintings and a historical exhibition of India through the ages. It seemed like a permanent exhibition that included a wider section for Ghandi which I enjoyed. Although it is never great to read about the sinister way the Victorian imperialist empire treated India. After an hour or two strolling round there We strolled across the road to the Aerocenter. This has to be my most unusual experience of Mumbai so far. The place is a bit like a the village fete equivalent of the Epcot center but maybe even smaller. I have to confess I rather enjoyed it. You have to go at a certain time if you want to get the tour in english. After a stroll around a large room filled with pictures of the Mars landscape, small weighing booths where you can test to see how much you weigh on the Earth, Sun, Mars and Moon pictures of constellations and planets you squeeze into a dome like theatre where you sit with bendy style recliner seats looking up into a starry sky for an hours narrated show of the galaxies and planets, stars and nebulars. The whole show is projected onto the ceiling and swirls above your head.

Later on I strolled along Juhu beach with the masses of families on the beach running around or playing cricket and enjoyed the peaceful sunset amongst the human pandemonium that is Mumbai.

It occurred to me that there are still many things to try while I am here if I get the chance. I still have not yet tried any street food which I must. If not just to discover what they are. Hopefully I shall pluck up enough courage to ride a Royal Enfield motorcycle round Mumbai, well maybe one or two streets anyway. I'm still keen to see Carrom being played which I haven't yet. It is a traditional indian board game with draughts type pieces that you flick across the board. I have played it before back home and would love to play it over here if I can.

Can the monkey know the taste of ginger?

No idea? Does he care more to the point? I was looking for a Hindu proverb as a title for this post and this was one of the many. 'Waste not want not' is also a Hindu proverb, I didn't know that. For some great Hindu quotes try here; 

http://www.worldofquotes.com/proverb/Hindu/1/index.html

The rest of this week has been a mixture of sightseeing and work. Following on from 'Mahashivaratri' on Monday I found myself visiting another two temples in the process. The first being the Hindu Mahalaxmi Temple on Bhulabhai Desai Road, not far from our offices. Apparently it is one of the most famous temples in Mumbai. You can't actually see much of it because of all the buildings surrounding it, I guess it can be best viewed from the sea. You follow very much the same routine when you visit, you give a donation, receive some offerings hand them to a monk who blesses them and then returns some for you to keep. There are many stalls on the street that lead up into the temple which sell rings of flowers that you wear round your neck, incense, fruit and such like. You leave your shoes with one of the stalls, they give you a plate of offerings as before and you head up into the temple and queue as patiently as you can - not that everyone else is. I passed my plate to a guru/monk who gave me a few blessed items in return, like a sweet or a flower - stingy fellow. On the way out I found myself again offering a small donation to a monk. At which point I suddenly find myself receiving another Rakhi and most unexpectedly, a Bindi. I had to lean forward and get a small splodge of paint put on my forehead, couldn't take it off for the rest of the day. It's enough with being stared at a lot in Mumbai without having something on your forehead as well. Everyone back at work kept asking me "Have you been to a temple then?" knowing full well I had.
I also finally had some south Indian food, after Chodu had been asking me all the time since I've been here. Thought it stop him asking me at least. It seems the indians tend to refer to South Indian food as Vegetarian, I guess because very little of the dishes contain meat. You essentially get a Thali, a metal dish with several metal ramekins on filled with yogurt, Dall, veg, chickpea dish or the variant of. One of the dishes on the plate however I simply couldn't identify. And so I asked. the answer I got was. . . .
"Custard Sir".
"Eh?  . . Sorry, did you say custard"
"Yes sir, custard sir".
"Err, . like in a trifle, the stuff you put on a dessert?"
"Yes Sir, custard"
"Okay?!?"
Maybe i was misunderstanding them and it was some Indian name I couldn't make out.
Sure enough though, upon tasting, custard it was. Surprisingly, it went well with the spicy savoury dishes. That's a first I guess. I'm afraid to say this but, unfortunately the food was rather tainted by some not too pleasant smells in the restaurant. It was a recommended restaurant so I felt I should stay and the food was rather good.
My other temple of the week was the Haji Ali which sits out in the sea about a hundred yards along a walkway. It is a Muslim temple but it seems the routine is the same, although you don't receive a Bindi or a Rakhi. This temple was very full on. Men & Women go in via different entrances and it was very crowded. I was getting jostled and pushed around all over the place. 

I do think it is a bit odd that everyone seems to be in such a hurry in a place that invites contemplation and thought. It's almost as if some people just go there in there lunch hour to have a quick blessing, then it's off back to work.
The path to the Haji Ali is full of street sellers and poor beggars, some with many afflictions. That was the toughest thing I have seen so far. You can change a note for a big handful of 1 rupees that you can give out on the way back from the mosque. It is never quite enough though.
The same night Yohann one of the Senior managers took me out for a meal with himself and his wife in Bandra where they live. We ate italian food and had a nice glass of wine in a very plush restaurant where Yohaan is a regular. It was lovely to have a civilized evening and chat to Yohaan and his wife. Bandra itself is lovely at night, in the same area where I got the baked cheesecake from a few nights ago. This time I was more aware of how up-market it is. The beach road is lined with imposing colonial apartments that have been renovated and look similar to that of Malibu beach or Miami. Abhishek Bachchan the number one Bollywood actor (son of Amitabh Bachchan - Bollywoods most famous actor) owns a whole block. It is certainly a world away from what I saw earlier in the day
Then of course there is work. Should mention that really. I keep bumping into Francoise in the office he seems to be racing around to get things done before he jets off to Malaysia. It is nice to chat to him now and again as he has an outsiders view like me. He has also introduced me to the Barista coffee shop round the corner. A bit like Costa Coffee I guess but it's the only place to get decent coffee in Mumbai. Jobs so far are going well. Clients are naturally cautious but they seem very pleased. The quality of the work seems very good too. They all agree that Slumdog Millionaire isn't that good and it shouldn't have won half the Oscars it did. If it was an indian director it would have been better, but then it wouldn't have even been thought of for an Oscar. They have a point. What is nice so far is that everyone seems very open to try things in this industry over in India and whatever views they have they are keen to listen to other ideas.
I am now ready for a double bill of jobs on Saturday. But I shall be prepared, I have found a shop that specializes in imported goods. So I now have Marmite for my toast in the mornings!