My return trip, a long haul, started in Goa where I boarded a train at 1800hrs and arrived the following morning at Mumbai 12 hours later at 6am early where it was still dark. I then had to make my way by cycle across the city from the south to the airport some 25kms to the north.
First impression of Mumbai, was of street people, women, children old and young living under plastic lean to's or simply sprawled under blankets in the street. I have only two photos, and one is a map of Mumbai which a young lad from Denmark had shown me of the city, and the other is an early morning street scene where some shacks have been built along the road in front of other decrepit buildings. Many of the shacks though supported the typical satellite dishes often seen in contrast. It's as though the satellite tv is more important than having windows or solid walls.
It was good for traffic reasons to have had an early start to my crossing the city and guided by my compass alone, I headed in a North West direction towards the smarter areas adjacent to the sea. Before long, I found a busy bakery type restaurant and enjoyed some grub and a cup of coffee. A policeman pointed my rough map position and off I went into much more traffic by now. Many more street folks, lots of them still asleep under their blankets ignoring the growing noisy streets. They were everywhere, on the pavements and some had found refuge on wooden carts and crates.
I came to an area next to the sea dominated by large residential flats and later a park which I decided to head through. There were two platoons of young marching ladies, one in step and the other not. They must have been the runners up. It was clearly a nationalistic bunch who released Indian flag coloured balloons after the marching, athletics sports day closing ceremony. Earlier I had been stopped at the park entrance and told that my cycle had to be left on the street. On seeing motorcycles parked in the park though, I chose to ignore this apparent rule which seemed only to apply to me. Later, when nearing the northern gate, another official tried to get me to return to the first gate thus doubling my sin. Again I waltzed on and got clear of the park before too much fuss followed.
As my flight back to London was only at 0230hrs the following morning, I had the whole day to reach the airport and much time to kill. I ate a good veg curry and found a wine store for a beer while I watched a good game of cricket played two high school teams. It was a hot sunny day so I returned to the wine store for another beer and a diet coke. On dismounting, I caught my foot on the bike's cross bar and promptly fell over backwards into the road and oncoming hoard of traffic which happily had not quite reached me from their green light stampede. Foolishly, I hopped back on my feet trying to recover all dignity with a sheepish grin. A couple of motorcyclists stopped to ask what the problem was to which I replied "Gravity!"
Apart from this cycling mishap, the first of my journey as I recall, I managed to reach the airport finally after a plate of seafood noodles and stocking up on some samoosas for the long rather boring flight wait until the following morning. In the evening I decided to walk off and hunt for a beer and a bag of crisps. Fending off the many taxi touts, I walked for a couple of miles and manged to find an ice cold lager and some spicy crisps which I enjoyed whilst walking past some significant construction going on around the airport.
Thus fortified, I finally made my way into the departure area at around 2300hrs. Then the "cannot be serious bringing that bike on the plane" fun started. They insisted on wedging my bike through an x-ray machine and inevitably it got stuck, so with much tugging to and fro, luggage seperated into supplied boxes, I finally made it into the waiting lounge with only time for a pee before heading to the departure gate. It took two and a half hours to get through security and check-in. I thought Turkish airlines and Istanbul had been a challenge, but the Indians took first prize. Apparently, I had been told and now agree that they have adopted British burocracy rather well.
So onto London with dread for the weather. Unlike me, but I fell asleep and missed dinner on the plane so pleaded starvation later and managed to get some leftovers. Arrived on time and waited rather long for all the seperate bits and finally got going without being stopped by the green men channel. Blimey, -1degrees felt really alien but the absense of continuos hooting and the pound I picked up along the road made up for it. Traffic here is positively civilised, quiet and orderly unlike the noisy hooligans from whenst I came. I had to keep checking my cowboy inclinations, as I adapted to become a bit of a road demon myself, a survival necessity you'll understand.
I cycled a good route from Heathrow with gloves and woolly hat, but feet like icebergs and a growing hunger forced me into a greasy spoon for some bread and butter, a coffee,eggs, beans, chips and sausage. Not quite the bargains I have been used to but at £4.75, I could not complain.
Reached home later in the afternoon after a few more thawing coffee/tea stops along the way. Body clock completely confused though as I keep waking at 3 am and am slaughtered by 2100hrs. No wonder, with the time difference and my journey from Goa to home having taken a constant 48hrs. I need a rest.
Merry Christmas all.
I hope to recommence my travels again before long.
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