Trouble and Strife in Mumbai

Its our last day in Udaipur and I am feeling quite sad to leave. I absolutely love it here (I know! I know! We say that about everywhere!!) it is supposed to be the most romantic place in India and I am captivated. One could spend the whole day looking at the lake, way yonder into the mountains, watching the small sandstorms forming in the fields, as well as the birds, elephants and bats and best of all people. Since we have been pretty lazy we decide to hire a rickshaw driver - Dream to take us around for the morning before our flight to Mumbai followed by an epic train journey to Hampi. Dream is a right old dear, he seems a sad and sorrowful soul with the biggest heart and the best laugh you can imagine. He takes us to a park, the three lakes, to the outskirts and villages and then some shopping. Gav and I have a flight to catch in the afternoon and as we have taken a liking to the domestic airports we decide we'll go an extra hour earlier to check out Udaipur airport. Gav and I split to complete our chores - mine is to go to the post office to send all our goodies home. Unbeknown to me, we are supposed to pack it all up before you get to the post office - my thinking was to get a box and brown paper and do it all whilst in the queue. This is not the case, Dream takes Martin and I across the road to get our stuff packaged up, this involves "proper" packing where they box and sew the package together. I have been assured that the PO delivers to the UK within 10 days so I leave my parcel in the trusty hands of the Indian and UK PO...

We meet Gav back at the hotel and exchange gifts (a watch and spangly disco cum torch cum lighter) and bid goodbye to our travel companion Martin who is undecided on the next leg of his journey. We may meet up in the South but for the time being it is au revoir, or as they say in Hindi phir melange (we'll meet again). We get to Udaipur airport and really couldn't be more disappointed. There are two shops - one selling confectionary and another selling tourist paranephalia. We aren't allowed to go through the gates until our flight is called so make arrangements for our accomodation and travel to our next destination, Hampi. It is low season in Hampi and we are more than slightly shocked at the rates offered for a car to pick us up from the train station. Gav and I board the plane and we are both thinking the same thing - why pay silly prices for Hampi when we can instead use the money towards Kerala. It may sound very silly with not doing much (except for pondering), but we are in desperate need of a break and decide to change our plans and go to Kerala instead. I guess that is the thing about plans...

We get to Mumbai airport and while Gav dashes off to get a refund on the Hampi train ticket, I look for onward flights to Kerala. There is nothing until very early the next morning so rather than getting a hotel we decide we'll kill the few hours between dinner and our flight at the airport. Dinner tonight is a treat - a feast at the Taj in Mumbai. We phone ahead, make reseravations and get the taxi into the city. Since we are only here for a few hours I try to get the driver to point out some interesting sights en route. We get to the Taj and are surprised with the security in force - armed guards, x-ray machines, police etc. Despite all this, we are looking forward to a swanky dinner. Unfortunately, as the menu arrives, we order and start to eat our thoughts turn to the poverty that's outside of the hotel front door and suddenly the meal doesn't taste as it is supposed to. I think despite the poverty and as most people know how much Gav and I love our food, it really is not as good as some of the other places we have dined at. Never mind, we live and we learn...

Since the hotel is a lot nicer than the airport, we decide to kill time there instead. I have taken to nicking toilet tissue everywhere we go and I can tell you the Taj's is amongst the softest!!! Its about 1.30 - 2.00 in the morning and Gav and I decide to go for a walk. We cross the road and are promptly told by the armed police that the road is closed and we can't go there, so we decide to go another way which looks open. We get to the end of that road and can't decide whether to turn right, left or turn back. We turn back as we have no idea where is safe to go and we see quite a few stray dogs. As we turn back we see about seven armed men coming towards us. All of them are shouting and Gav and I are basically crapping our pants. As they get closer the shouting gets louder "What is your room number? Where is your hotel? What are you doing here?" They don't give us a chance to explain and instead just repeat the same three questions over and over again. The sight of angry shouty men with guns more than scares both of us and whilst to his credit Gav maintains calm composure, I get upset. They can't understand why one would be upset at this type of showdown. They take us across the road and a lady goes through the same questions over and over again. They check our passports and visas and can't some how understand that we are British. This is something that we encounter on a daily basis and have to explain that we have an Indian ancestry. Once again our passports, visas and bags are checked (my heart does beat a little faster when they find the hoard of tissues!) and once they are happy that we are not a threat, they call us a taxi and tell us to wait at the airport.

We are still shaking when we get to the airport and once inside hold on to each other until its time to get the flight to Kerala...