Barmy, balmy, Bombay

Sunday 18^th May 2014

Watching Eurovision in India was certainly different. Trying to explain the concept to my friends was no easy feat, and considering the time difference, it didn’t end here until almost 4.30am. Everyone else was asleep by around the twentieth performance, but needless to say, I remained alert and overexcited throughout. Conchita really stole the show, and despite the UK not doing too well, it was wonderful to see the Netherlands come second! I can’t wait for Vienna 2015, congratulations, Austria!

   Back to India. I’ve just arrived in Kolkata (Calcutta) after a few days in Mumbai (Bombay). I was sad to leave Saath and Ahmedabad behind, but the next few weeks look to be quite the adventure.

   Mumbai was like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Toyko, London, and Rio all pale in comparison to the sheer immensity of Bombay. Arriving at the airport was like stepping into another world, one which seemed to just drip money. The arrivals hall was full of the richest Indians I’ve seen so far, and what felt like half of the wealthy population of the Arabian Peninsula. This continued into the car park, which teemed with top-of-the-range BMWs and Mercedes. That said, it's a megacity in the Global South, so is of course not without extreme poverty and devastating inequality, and is even home to Dharavi, one of the world's largest slums.

   In the downtown areas, the British colonial heritage shines through strongly. The architecture, layout, and cosmopolitan atmosphere (not to mention the red double-decker buses) can’t help but remind you of London, but on some kind of tropical steroids. Mumbai was a good ten degrees (Celsius) cooler than Ahmedabad, which was certainly a welcome change, with delightfully balmy evenings. I found it very interesting, and almost a little disconcerting how most of the Indians around me were conversing only in English or Hinglish. Progress or a loss of identity? 

Home away from home?

   I began my visit – in my usual style – with a trip to a museum: The Chhatrapati Shivaji (or Prince of Wales) Museum. The old names still stick quite strongly in Mumbai, which is handy, because the Indian-ised ones are a bit of a mouthful at best. The museum is housed in a magnificent building in the Indo-Saracenic style, and stands in a grand garden. The collection includes some excellent ancient sculpture, as well as the usual collection of weapons. My personal highlights, however, were the stunning collection of Chinese jade pieces, and the Indian painting, especially the miniatures. The selection of Western art contained a few nice pieces, but nothing that really blew me away.

Indian painting at the Chhatrapati Shivaji Museum. 

   The Jehangir Art Gallery (contemporary art) and National Gallery of Modern Art were both closed. Fortunately, the Goethe Institut next door housed a fascinating photographic exhibition about Germany and India, in conjunction with the European Union Film Festival in India. I even caught the last film screening on Thursday evening, which happened to be Killing Bono, from the UK, it was rather funny.

Strolling through the streets.

   I wandered around Oval Maidain, the High Court, and Mumbai University (sadly Gilbert Scott’s Rajabhai Clock Tower was in scaffolding), and then after lunch decided to head for the handsome Gateway of India. The honey-coloured arch was built to commemorate the visit of King George V and Queen Mary in 1911, and was completed in 1924. Originally intended to be a ceremonial point of arrival for P&O passengers, it is more commonly associated with August 1947 and the moment when the last British soldiers in India marched onto a ship as the Union Flag was lowered. The Gateway is very much a symbol of power, majesty and imperialism, and despite its connections with that important moment in India’s independence, the way in which Indians admire and flock to have their photographs taken in front of it does confuse me a little.

The Gateway of India.

Tourist-selfie.

   After taking several selfies and eating a little too much bhel puri, I had a stroll through the Taj Mahal Palace Hotel, the city’s swankiest joint, and scene of the horrific 2008 terror attacks – not that you’d know, the subsequent refit has really restored the splendour. I like the Taj, and not just because it’s fancy, but because it was built in the face of colonial oppression by J. N. Tata, as revenge for being denied admittance to Watson’s, the city’s best and a “white’s only” hotel. Watson’s is long gone, but the Taj remains. It’s actually not that expensive to stay there either, with rooms starting at around Rs. 8000 (£80/100€) a night.

   Friday (16^th May) was election results day, which meant a lot of road closures in the city and no alcohol for sale. Just when I was getting used to having gin & tonics back in my life. I took a stroll up to Horniman Circle and its lush gardens, surrounded by grandiose colonial-era buildings with their paved arcades sheltering banks, boutiques, and a Starbucks. As I passed the Bombay Stock Exchange, I was given some free sweets by people celebrating share prices soaring after the election. I might not be Modi’s biggest fan, but I did like the sweets.

Horniman Circle.

   Eventually I made it to Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus (or Victoria Terminus). What a sight. The enormous edifice was designed by F. W. Stevens and built in 1887. It really is rather barmy: a huge collection of spires, domes, columns, minarets, all in red brick. Inside it’s rather beautiful, and certainly reminiscent of St. Pancras in London, but the niceties stop with the architecture: the concourse is hectic, filthy and seemingly total chaos. The heat did not help.

Victoria Terminus.

   I was determined not to let Mumbai’s intensity get the the better of me, and so spent my last day wandering around, enjoying its energetic and lively vibe, including passing by the police headquarters, where I had a little moment of excitement about following in the footsteps of Inspector Ghote. The day was topped off with an evening stroll along Marine Drive, the city’s seaside promenade. It was built in the 1920s, and is lined with peeling art deco buildings. At night, the street’s 3km curve is spectacularly lit by a row of lights that earned it the nickname “The Queen’s Necklace”.

Marine Drive by night.

   On my ride to the airport this morning, the taxi driver took the Bandra-Worli Sea Link (ok, it’s officially called the Rajiv Gandhi Sea Link), an impressive 5.6km-long viaduct/bridge which links these two parts of the city and greatly eases traffic and cuts cross-city travel times. The structure is extremely impressive, but then, I do love bridges for some reason. Mumbai totally mesmerised me, I’ll definitely be going back there one day.

   Strangest thing about Bombay: no cows.