Getting There
Boarding the plane to Mumbai we were excited but slightly stressed. Air travel had become something we no longer looked forward to. It was definitely the easier way to get from place to place in terms of time, but now with Coronavirus the sheer number of people you have to be around in the airports made for rather unnerving experiences. We had been using hand sanitizer daily for months already and avoided touching things unnecessarily, but at the airport you can’t avoid much and everyone touches everything. I can’t tell you how many times we’d wiped down our passports and phones. Despite our mild anxiety nobody else looked concerned. There was no kind of screening happening and no forms to fill out. I don’t recall seeing many people in masks either. It appeared to be business as usual.
Yes, I know I just said that we avoid touching things as much as possible, but I was bored and decided I’d risk touching the inflight magazine that I’m sure hundreds of people had their dirty paws on. I had my hand sanitizer on my lap ready to go. As I flipped through the pages a photo jumped out at me. A glossy picture of the huts we had just stayed in. It appeared that the place we settled on in Goa must have been one of the best of the worst after all. They sure do look charming from the outside #marketing.
First Impressions
On the drive from the airport to our hotel I was truly struck for the first time at just how extremely poor pockets of India are. Out of all the areas we had traveled through so far in the country we really saw extreme mass poverty there on a scale we hadn’t yet encountered. Yet as we drove by the slums and passed families laying on the sidewalks, with nothing under them for comfort and only a tarp propped up with sticks for shade above, you couldn’t help but notice the children playing games, smiling, and laughing.
We had a really wonderful driver this time and were able to take in our surroundings rather than keeping our eyes glued to the road anticipating the crash that seemed inevitable. It was a lot to take in. Everywhere you looked there was something happening. One thing we noticed a lot of was all the abandoned broken down vehicles in every kind of state of disrepair imaginable. Some looked like they hadn’t been touched in decades, skeletons of their former selves. Some had doors missing among many other pieces. Some had been repurposed for a living space or lounge area where guys would hang out with their feet up having a drink and snack together, like it was a bus stop bench. It was like where ever your car died is where it remained. Forever. Even on a main thoroughfare.
Although we almost always prefer small towns and villages to big cities when traveling, we have found that the cities in India have appealed to us much more than any of the smaller stops we’ve made (with the exception of Hampi for me). Goa was nice and the beach was pretty, but a pretty beach is like a pretty girl. Pretty girls are a dime a dozen. Without personality there is only so long you want to hang out. Mumbai had personality! It had an energy and feeling about it. We both looked at each other and knew that we were going to love the place.
The Travelers Inn Is A Win!
Andre booked a room ahead of time and we had chosen the room that had the most natural light and a “balcony”. When Andre had clicked through the photos online the first thing he had to show me was the balcony picture. I loved it, so of course I wanted to recreate it once we arrived.
The owner and staff were super friendly and welcoming and the room was a dream. It was by far the best room we had in India. It was really clean with plenty of space. There was even a television with a few English movie channels which was a welcome addition because while I was feeling much better, Andre was feeling much worse. Our well defined roles had been reversed. I am always the one who gets sick while traveling and he looks after me. This was a strange twist of events. But the universe was set right again a few nights later when I became violently ill during the night. Thankfully it was short lived. We had only planned to stay in Mumbai for four days before heading into Jaisalmer and touring the north, but between Andre feeling so terrible and my little bout we had hardly left our room the first few days. We knew the city had a lot to offer and we loved the place we were in so we decided that we would extend our time there by another four days so that we could actually see a few things.
Around Mumbai
Our first excursion was to find a place where Andre could get his hair cut. As we walked through the street the men stared a little bit more than usual and some of them decided to voice their thoughts. One guy looked at Andre and said appreciatively, “Very nice madam”, while another guy just started doing a slow clap. It was weird. Andre howled.
The street in front of the salon was packed with vendors selling clothing. One gentleman had a key stand where he cut keys by hand with a file. There were no other visible tourists in this area and people were really kind and curious. After the longest haircut I’d ever sat through Andre emerged nearly scalped. Because of his silver racing stripes and the super tight fade, from a distance he looked like he was bald on the sides. Not the best cut he’s had on our trip.
Making our way home we passed a road that was under construction. Everything was dug up and machines were working away. I thought about the LRT being built in Edmonton and how large sections of streets were blocked off. Not here, no barriers or anything. In fact there were food vendors set up right along the edge of the torn up road. No OH&S here.
Any space is a good place to set up shop in India. If there was enough room to sit cross legged then that was wide enough. As we walked through the streets we passed tons of nearly literal “hole in the wall” places were a gentleman would be seated surrounded by their goods. Other tiny shops were wider but with only enough space for the seller to stand in between a wall of goods and a narrow counter top. And whatever your were looking to buy, you could find it.
A few people had told us to hit up the markets around the Colaba Causeway for clothing, and while the markets were a total fail (felt like another big flea market), the area was fun to explore. There were already lots of vendors selling colours for Holi and we also ran into a guy who sold and sharpened knives. He had all his wares displayed on the front of his bike and the sharpener was pedal powered. Very cool.
From there we headed to the Gateway of India. The area was blocked off and we needed to go through a security checkpoint. India has been really thorough when it comes to security measures. Even shopping malls have security at all entrances. The place was pretty crowded so we didn’t stay long.
Another major site in Mumbai is the main train station. On our way there a young girl, probably around 9 years old, began following us. She didn’t have much English but she did say CST which are the initials for the Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus. I told her that we were going there and we didn’t need any help but she just kept on lingering behind us as we walked for many many blocks. At one point Andre started getting a bit put off by her and thought she may be a little trouble maker, but she eventually wandered off. Upon nearing the station we realized it was Friday afternoon. People were hustling in and out of the station on their way home from work. Although the station was teeming with people it surprisingly did not feel any busier than the underground in Sydney during rush hour.
Both the exterior and interior of the station were stunning.
On our way home from the station we walked by a large slum. In Mumbai they do tours of the major slum (Dharavi) that was used in the filming of Slumdog Millionaire. We had thought about going on it. We were curious to know what is was like inside the slums and had read that there were small tours run by people who put the profits back into the slum to benefit the people, and that there was no photography allowed which seemed more respectful. Initially I was not interested in going on a “poverty porn” tour but after reading some reviews I started thinking that perhaps it was done in a way that wasn’t exploitative. In the end though we didn’t do it. Anyway, as we left the train station we walked past a large slum and got a little peek at life there. One narrow passage had people dancing and playing music. It looked like there was a good party going on. Kids ran around playing with whatever was available, turning scraps of materials into anything that their imaginations could conjure. One kid came running past us and called out excitedly in perfectly practiced English, “Hello! How are you today?” I replied that I was well and asked him how he was. He proudly stated, “I am good, thank you!” Then he ran off. That may have been his only English, pretty on par with my Spanish. We could see inside the makeshift homes of those living closest to the street, catching glimpses of people washing up with tattered buckets and going about daily tasks with what they had to work with.
Walking through Mumbai we came across phenomenal architecture. There are many extraordinary buildings scattered throughout the city. We’d be walking down a dirty side street, turn a corner and all of a sudden be faced with a stunningly beautiful and enormous building.
There were a tremendous amount of vendors and they all asked us to come look at their things as we walked past. I now had the perfect out in these situations. I could stop and look without any issue because I made Andre walk ahead without me. That way I could say that my husband had all the money and I would have to come back later. No one questioned this. It was perfect. It only seemed fair that I could use him in this way seeing as he had benefited greatly from having a fussy wife during our travels. Whenever something wasn’t to his satisfaction, especially when it had to do with accommodation, he simply told the staff that his wife was not happy and things got fixed up straight away. He loves his ‘fussy’ wife.
The Plan Changes Again
Into our extended four days things started to take more of a turn. Every day the news was getting worse. I had reached out to several friends in the medical field to ask how things were in their hospitals in different places of the world and what their opinions were in terms of continued travel. Everyone was still optimistic despite the news and felt that there wasn’t a need for us to return to Canada just yet. This satisfied me for the time even though Andre was less reassured. In truth I think he would have happily flown home many weeks before but I was the one who had been pushing to continue on. The stress of uncertainty with the COVID situation and the general fatigue of moving from place to place had left him ready to call it quits. We both missed our family and friends but I’m a more solitary creature than him so I think he was missing these interactions more than me.
A few days before we were to leave Mumbai we started reading of possible closures of major tourist attractions like the Taj Mahal. Then we found out that a group of 15 tourists from Italy had just completed the northern route we had planned to do and they had all gone home and tested positive for COVID-19. With the prospect of sites being shut down, knowing that people carrying the virus had just passed through the area, the population density of India, and increasing restrictions countries were implementing on flights, we decided we had to end our India trip early. We cancelled our flights from Mumbai to Jaisalmer and from Dehli to Istanbul and booked a flight from Mumbai to Amman, Jordan. It was time to start moving closer to home where we would be fewer flights away from Canada. Now the plan was to do a shorter tour of Jordan, head into Turkey and then continue on to Greece and Nova Scotia as we had planned and booked the week prior.
Holi
Our last day in Mumbai was the start of Holi. As a result of COVID-19 many of the larger Holi parties were cancelled throughout India. Celebrations were low key and mainly just within families. The owner of our place had planned to play Holi out front with his family and invited us to join. I had been warned to cover my hair because the colours would stain blonde. I looked this info up online and read a ton of posts from blondes who fell victim to rainbow stained hair that basically had to grow out. Even Indian women suggested putting oil into the hair prior to playing to make it easier to wash out. I also read that you should lotion and oil up your skin, especially around your fingernails and toenails where dry skin would stain. Some people even suggested painting your nails to give them a protective barrier. I painted my nails, oiled up and wrapped my hair in a scarf. From our room I could see them playing and took some photos and video. By the time we got down they were well and truly covered. I was as ready as I could be, except for the fact that I had no spare clothes to destroy. Luckily Mohit’s family was kind and just coloured our faces. Andre’s silver racing stripes stayed colour free.
A Sad Farewell
We loved Mumbai and were so looking forward to the north, but the time had come to accept that our year long trip may be cut short by several months. We were still hoping for the best and were in touch with many other traveling friends who were still pushing on, but we knew we had to be prepared to cut and run at any time. It felt like things were starting to move more rapidly.
India had been so up and down for us from the very start, but in the end we were sad to be leaving. Our plan was to return to India when we could at a later date for a full month to complete the northern leg.
250 days in…
Let’s go explore Amman.