One Lap Around the Earth ... attempt 1: Mumbai India

We arrived in Mumbai during rush hour, which was total insanity. We decided to head for Colaba, which is known unofficially, as Mumbai’s “official” tourist district. There were a lot of hotels there according to our Lonely Planet guide so we decided to check it out. We got a prepaid taxi from the airport to the train station. The train would then take us to the Colaba district.

On the way to the train station, as we were sitting in lane-less gridlock traffic, it began to rain really hard. We are here at the end of India’s monsoon season, and apparently it rains pretty much every day. Once we reached the train station the taxi driver pointed ahead to where the station was. We got out of the taxi in the pouring rain, and total confusion ensued. We didn't see a sign or anything resembling a train station. We saw thousands of people moving like an army of ants, rickshaws and cars in bumper to bumper traffic with people weaving in and out of the small spaces between those bumpers. We also would have been blind not to notice the prominence of Mumbai's shanty-town. They are checkered throughout the city.

Shanty towns dominated the landscape of Mumbai as we flew over the city toward the runway. According to Lonely Planet, 58% of Mumbai's population lives in these shanty towns. The population is said to be 20.5 Million, which means 11,890,000 people are living in shanty town, or poverty according to some projections. There is nothing like this in America. In America we have homeless people. At least in India the "Poor and Homeless" seem to be able to build a structure made out of anything they can find to call home. Most of the materials appeared to be tarps (the bright blue ones you can buy at home depot for $4), corrugated fiberglass and aluminum, palm branches, cardboard, plastic, etc. Within the shanty towns we could see little shops and businesses. It was truly a city within the city. They seem to thrive just fine without brick and mortar, skyscrapers, three-bed/two-baths, two-car garages, and even shoes. Yes many of the people we saw walking were barefoot. This sort of city within a city could never be allowed in the U.S. and A. Our government couldn't possibly find a way to tax and collect on everyone. Neither would there be any need for an HOA in a shanty town...if a resident parked their boat in the front yard one day, within a week it would be made into a home:)

We didn't get photos of the shanty towns, it just didn't seem respectful to the people living there. It also may have been construed as an invasion of privacy.

Onto the train station...after watching the flow of people under an elevated walkway, we decided to follow the path leading down what looked like an alley. After a short walk through water puddles and mud we arrived at the train station. This was also very chaotic, as people were moving in all different directions. It was hard to see any type of order. Finally we figured out which line to get into. I asked for train tickets to Church Gate, which was the southern most stop in the city. Church Gate was in Colaba, where we were planning on spending the night. The man asked me if I wanted first class tickets, and I asked how much? 156 rupees later we were heading toward platform five, by the way 156 rupees is about $3.20. I thought first class tickets would mean we'd get a nice comfy assigned seat on the train. Unfortunately I have never been more wrong.

The walk to the platform was more chaotic than the street. It reminded me of soda bottles on a wide conveyor belt; every bottle up against five others moving in unison toward the same destination. Looking down from the walkway we saw the platforms packed with people. After packing ourselves like sardines onto the concrete staircase, we made our decent onto the platform, and waited. After two or three minutes we saw a train pull up that said, Church Gate, on the top, indicating its destination. This was apparently our train. Unfortunately the cars of this train were packed to the brim. I could literally see hands and feet in disarray within the train cars. There was no way I was getting on this train...no way. Besides, we wouldn't even fit on the train, especially with our back packs. A few more minutes went by and another train said Church Gate, we still weren't sure if it was the right train cause we had "first class" tickets. We kept looking for something resembling a first class car, hoping it wouldn't be packed like sardines. Eventually we figured it out, the first class car would have a roman numeral one on it, and the second, and so on. As other trains went by we realized that our first class ticket didn't mean anything. Every one was just piling on whatever train they could fit in. We paid for a ticket that was completely worthless, no one checked tickets, no one cared. The next Church Gate train came and we pushed our way on. We had to stand most of the way, the closer we got the more comfy it became, finally getting to sit for the last couple miles. After arrival we found our way to the streets and began walking around, it was raining by now and it was around 21:00. Eventually we found a nice hotel, it was RU3150 per night, about $65. We didn't care about price we just wanted to sleep.

While checking in we had the front desk acquire sleeping train tickets to Goa for the next morning, they cost about $45 total. The hotel got us 3AC tickets, basically it was 3rd level first class if that makes sense. I was a little worried that we'd be on a car with goats and chickens. The next morning at 0600 we took a taxi to the train station and got on our train. At first we were kinda disappointed in the 3AC but turned out to be really good, we had a private sleeping area for our 14hr train ride. The toilets were squat type, and at first Heidi wasn't thrilled about using them, but after the 3rd or 4th time, she started to enjoy it :) Also we were right next to the kitchen car, so the entire trip we smelled the aromas of Indian cooking. I was really enjoying being able to go to the train car door, which was wide open, and just stand there as the landscape went by.

The Squatter - note the places for your feet