Well I have definitely missed an update or two. My last few days in Turkey were spent in the South East, Turkish Kurdistan, and they were remarkable and filled with more busses, more kebabs and more lovely Kurds. I zoomed my way from Urfa (I say zoomed, my flight was cancelled and was bussed half way across the country to then zoom) to Istanbul and then was back to Dubai for Christmas. And now, a few weeks and a whole lot of paperwork later, I am firmly ensconced in a room (I am denying it the classification of "hotel") in Mumbai.
We've all read (or seen) a hundred clichéd introductions to Mumbai and nothing I can say will change that. Suffice to say that it is not Slumdog Millionaire. It is the noisiest place in the entire world, it stinks and it is constantly rammed. I've nearly been run over twice today, someone tried to sell me peacock feathers for 10 minutes and I'm pretty sure I stepped in wee (in flip flops). Saying that, I love it for all of those reasons and more. When the smell of car exhaust and sewers is suddenly cut with the waft of frying rotis or you turn a corner from grey, concrete tenements to be met with bright, crumbling Raj-era buildings, it definitely makes it all worth while. Despite it's problems modern Mumbai hasn't obliterated old Bombay and it still maintains a lot of its charm.
The place I'm staying, admittedly is definitely not the Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. It must have once been quite nice but it's now such an indistinct dirty colour it could have been yellow or blue or green for all I know. However, it has an original cast iron lift and it costs the equivalent of a Boots meal deal so it's swings and roundabouts.
I flew in two days ago, arrived in the evening and had the inevitable problem of my taxi drivers not understanding me, or my map or the women on the phone and so I got to wander, backpack and all, through the middle of "Old Bombay" before I finally sunk onto my rock hard mattress. It definitely felt like a scene from a movie (one of those clichéd intros to Mumbai) but it was less than amusing at the time and I've never been happy to find see a streaky sign that said "Hotel Lawrence".
As much as I'm enjoying it here I'm not hugely inclined to stay too long. I know I'll eventually be back and it's a drain on funds (yes, a Hoisin Duck Wrap priced room is expensive...) but my camera broke the night I left Dubai so it's currently in a tiny shop somewhere getting fixed and I'm here until Tuesday. After that I start to make my way South and will end up in Pondicherry in early March to start my internship. I've written this sat in my room trying desperately to tune into BBC world service as internet access here is properly lacking and WiFi even more so and I've got Guardian withdrawl. Hopefully I'll be able to post this soon.
Love to all,
Gx
We've all read (or seen) a hundred clichéd introductions to Mumbai and nothing I can say will change that. Suffice to say that it is not Slumdog Millionaire. It is the noisiest place in the entire world, it stinks and it is constantly rammed. I've nearly been run over twice today, someone tried to sell me peacock feathers for 10 minutes and I'm pretty sure I stepped in wee (in flip flops). Saying that, I love it for all of those reasons and more. When the smell of car exhaust and sewers is suddenly cut with the waft of frying rotis or you turn a corner from grey, concrete tenements to be met with bright, crumbling Raj-era buildings, it definitely makes it all worth while. Despite it's problems modern Mumbai hasn't obliterated old Bombay and it still maintains a lot of its charm.
The place I'm staying, admittedly is definitely not the Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. It must have once been quite nice but it's now such an indistinct dirty colour it could have been yellow or blue or green for all I know. However, it has an original cast iron lift and it costs the equivalent of a Boots meal deal so it's swings and roundabouts.
I flew in two days ago, arrived in the evening and had the inevitable problem of my taxi drivers not understanding me, or my map or the women on the phone and so I got to wander, backpack and all, through the middle of "Old Bombay" before I finally sunk onto my rock hard mattress. It definitely felt like a scene from a movie (one of those clichéd intros to Mumbai) but it was less than amusing at the time and I've never been happy to find see a streaky sign that said "Hotel Lawrence".
As much as I'm enjoying it here I'm not hugely inclined to stay too long. I know I'll eventually be back and it's a drain on funds (yes, a Hoisin Duck Wrap priced room is expensive...) but my camera broke the night I left Dubai so it's currently in a tiny shop somewhere getting fixed and I'm here until Tuesday. After that I start to make my way South and will end up in Pondicherry in early March to start my internship. I've written this sat in my room trying desperately to tune into BBC world service as internet access here is properly lacking and WiFi even more so and I've got Guardian withdrawl. Hopefully I'll be able to post this soon.
Love to all,
Gx
