Training

MUMBAI, MAHARASHTRA - 6th October 2009

With our bus tickets to Mangalore booked for Wednesday afternoon, the latest episode of "D-Rod" on tour saw us take the opportunity to go gallivanting around Mumbai's city centre. Stage 1 of the plan, however, involved the not-so-simple task of hopping onto one of Mumbai's infamous suburban commuter trains.

I've been in some pretty damn crowded places in my time - being rammed against the metal barrier in front of 40,000 people at T in the Park to the beats of Kasabian was pretty mental, though in transport terms I always thought the Jubilee Line towards Canary Wharf at 8.45am would take some beating. That was before I saw this video of Japanese "train pushers" ramming a few extra passengers onto the Tokyo Metro:



But - and I'm sure everyone can guess what's coming - Mumbai trains take the metaphorical biscuit. The train pulls up into Borivli station, already with people hanging out the doors. Before the train stops, the wall of waiting passengers engulfs each and every doorway and ram-roads their way into the carriage - it's dog eat dog and anyone left by the wayside gets no sympathy. Tokyo-style train pushers are not necessary not because there are fewer people - there are probably more - but because nobody has any qualms about quite literally rucking their way into the carriage. "Into" is probably an exaggeration - as long as they are close enough to put one foot inside the carriage and have one arm around a handlebar, they'll be happy as larry just dangling outside the door frame. Contrary to popular beliefs, closer examination at a later stage revealed that the trains do, in fact, have doors... but are left perpetually slid open.

Credit where credit's due though - the trains run like clockwork, and the train leaves the station no more than 30 seconds after it arrives - regardless of what anyone is doing or attempting to do along its 16 carriage length. The economist in me appreciated the true efficiency of it all.

Anyway, about 30 minutes later we'd pulled up to Churchgate Terminus in the heart of Mumbai's old city centre - the moment you step outside you see the British influence on all the architecture. Most spectacular is Victoria Terminus - still called VT by everyone despite being renamed Chhattarapati Shivaji Terminus a few years back. VT is up there with St Pancras for grandeur - its outer facade mimics the London termini on which it is based, but towers above its surrounding in a way far more impressive than its British cousins.

Some of you may have heard of/noticed the England 2018 "Back the Bid" campaign on Facebook, where 40 *lucky* supporters got a free scarf in return for sending in photos of them "Backing the Bid" around the world. I managed to snag a couple of photos into the album from my pre-travelling sojourn to Switzerland (here and here), but the real snappy snaps have been here in India. Some classics in Mumbai town included one with one of the world-famous dubba-wallahs (see right). To quote Wikipedia (the source of all knowledge),

More than 175,000 or 200,000 lunch boxes get moved every day by an estimated 4,500 to 5,000 dabbawalas, all with an extremely small nominal fee and with utmost punctuality. According to a recent survey, there is only one mistake in every 6,000,000 deliveries, statistically equivalent to a Six Sigma (99.9999% accuracy) rating.

Photos of this, and several other Backing the Bid cheesy grins, will probably appear on Facebook in due course.

Anyway, we had a fairly comprehensive wander around downtown Mumbai, swinging by the historic Crawford Market (whose structure was designed by Lockwood Kipling - father of Rudyard) for a falooda. Somewhat an acquired taste, faloodas are made by soaking tapioca seeds in water, then mixing them into rose syrup with vermicelli and adding milk, basil seeds, sugar and ice cream. Bloody terrific for digestion.

Moving slight away from the touristy region, we wandered through "Chor Bazaar" - literally "Robbers' Market" (I'm fairly sure it's an unofficial name), where you can pick up pretty much anything under the sun for a bargain price that is solely attributable to the good old five finger discount. I'm reliably informed that if you go there wanting something that they don't have, they'll get it for you within half an hour. I'm fairly sure that whatever economy Liverpool has is built on this principle, but they clearly haven't perfected it quite to the same extent as these guys.

We made time to stop for a pint at Leopold's in Colaba - a tourist hotspot that was one of the places gunned down during the 26/11 terrorist attacks on Mumbai. They've left the glass with bullet holes ridden in as a reminder to all its vistors (see right) - it's always chilling to think that a couple of months before then Simon, Jamie and I were in there being the very English tourists that those nutters were looking to murder. From there we had lunch at a brilliant Goan place called Martin's - off the tourist trail but damn good food. The afternoon passed with various journeys around Mumbai's districts - Worli (to add Mumbai to my collection of Hard Rock Cafe t-shirts), Sion and Bandra were all visited before the forced our way onto a train back up to Borivli. End of days for Mumbai - next stop, home - Mangalore.