Mumbai to Pushkar:

Left Mumbai in a frenzy, and after having to pay my taxi driver with dollars as I had run out of rupees, I arrived at the Bandra Train Station with ten minutes to spare. So, off to Rajasthan with 50 rupees ($1 US) in my pocket!

The train from Mumbai to Ajmer was about an 18 hour journey. Again, I had some wonderful travel companions in my compartment: Daniel from Germany and Pete from the UK. Daniel was making some tea in the compartment when I arrived and it was fun to chat with them and trade travel stories all the way north without knowing eachothers' names.

The scenery was beautiful as we passed marshes (which become covered at high tide), rivers (with men fishing with nets) and palm groves. Remnants of the festival could be seen from the marigolds that had washed up along the banks of the river, and as we passed temples, I saw a sadhu meandering along with his walking stick. I felt as if my eyes were wide open again.

The wetlands of Maharashtra

Train tracks out a pink window

At Ahmedabad, Gujarat, we were joined by Rahul who was going to Ajmer for the Sufi festival. Though Hindu, he told me that he has a great interest in Muslim culture and was looking forward to seeing the whirling dervishes, hearing the Sufis sing qawwali and recite poetry, such Rumi.

Traveling in style in 2 AC

Daniel, myself and Rahul

After climbing into our bunks, we were awoken a little before six o'clock to be told that the next station was Ajmer. In the gray light of the early morning, the scenry had changed from the lush and green South to the rocky, dusty desert of Rajasthan. We had arrived!

We disembarked from the train and said goodbye to Rahul. Daniel, Pete and I then all squashed into an auto rickshaw (luggage and all) and made our way to the bus station. 8 rupees (20 cents US) and half an hour later we arrived in Pushkar. The bus ride was beautiful: past Ajmer lake, over the mountain and into 'Holy Holy Pushkar'.

View over Ajmer from bus

Bus ride to Pushkar, Pete taking a video

I had forgotten how much I had loved Pushkar. I had spent almost a month in Pushkar three years ago so it felt like being home again. Not only that but the scenery reminds me a lot of the desert of Arizona, where I live now in the United States, but with India in the foreground. As we passed cows and monkeys along the way, I couldn't stop smiling. 

Daniel had stayed in Pushkar a little while before at the Milkman Guest House. As Pete and I hadn't booked a place a stay, we decided to tag along to see if there were more rooms available. We were all in luck! Rooms, with a shared bath, for 250 rupees a night ($5 US). And, what a charming place: filled with potted plants, a little garden, colourful lanterns and Rajasthani decorations.

That night we all went for dinner and I met up with some old friends. It was wonderful to see them again and it felt as if the three years that had passed were only two weeks. My first night in Pushkar included: dinner with paneer butter masala and butter naan, some traditional Rajasthani music on a roof top terrace, a ride into the countryside by motorbike and drinks with old friends.

The following day, I ran into Daniel and Pete (and Laurin, from the German speaking part in Italy, who we had met the night before) in the Bazaar. After a late lunch in a garden cafe, we trekked up to the Gayatri Temple for some fantastic views over Pushkar.

 Lunch at Little Tibet: Pete, Laurin, Daniel and I

Laurin and Daniel

Sunset from Gayatri Temple

Next Post: Camel Safari into the countryside of Rajasthan.

Breakfast at Milkman. 

The name Bombay comes from the Portuguese who dubbed the seven islands Bom Bahai. In 1996, the Bombay was officially changed to Mumbai, after one of the goddesses, Mumba. However, I have noticed the almost everyone still refers to Mumbai as Bombay. 

Mumbai, is fascinating city and I have never been anywhere quite like it. The crumbling Gothic architecture often reminds me of Westminster while the bearded Banyand trees firmly state that I am in India. In Colaba, street vendors sell old clocks, bangles, chapals (sandals) and other bits and bobs while yellow and black president taxis honk and crowd the streets. It is often hot and steamy, and at dusk, you can see giant bats take flight into the darkening sky... 

Welcome to the home of Bollywood!

Mumbai Review:

Need some questions answered? Visit the Tourist Information Office, in Colaba, opposite Leopold's Cafe. 24/A Causeway House, N.F. Road. Omar, Feroz and Uncle will be able to help.

My fantastic guide, Gufran. Couldn't have photographed the Hijra and slums without him.
Contact info: 9819135299, SHAKEANDBOGGY@gmail.com, Taxi 1707

Ganesh Chaturthi, Mumbai:

The Ganesh Chaturthi is a ten day festival that celebrated the birth of Lord Ganesha. Though celebrated throughout India, Mumbai is known to have the most vibrant celebrations. For these ten days, statues of Ganesh are pulled along on carts or trucks with music (often Bollywood beats) blaring full blast while people dance in a procession. Pink powder is thrown and people are cheerful and smiling. Along with the deafening music, drums beat to announce the arrival of the procession while people yell "Ganapati Bappa Morya!" As I was photographing, I was offered ladoos, Ganesh's favourite sweet.

The idols are taken to the sea for immersion on the odd and last days of the festival. Though most are made of Plaster of Paris, it is becoming more popular to have environmentally friendly Ganeshes made of clay or even paper mache. The most popular pandals in Mumbai are visited by millions of people and have queues up to 24 hours just for a quick view. Bollywood stars also visit these pandals, in which I am sure you can imagine, the queue time lengthens considerably!

Here are just a few photos: Enjoy!

Ganesh Murti Nagar Slums of Mumbai:

When I first met my guide, Gufran, he asked me if I would like to go and visit his slums.  I had originally hired him to take me around the Ganesh Chaturthi Festival but I could not help but be curious.

The Ganesh Murti Nagar Slums are located near Cuffe Parade in Colaba. For those who are familiar with the book, Shantaram, these are the slums that Gregory David Roberts lived in. About 80,000 people live in a three to four km square. To be honest, I was expecting something quite different but these slums were bright, sunny and colourful, though certainly crowded with rubbish heaps here and there. Each person or family has a 14x15 foot home that is usually made with concrete and corrugated metal for a roof. There is a place to cook and a sink to do some washing in each of the homes. The homes are often painted in colours such as bubblegum pink, bright blue or aqua and potted plants hang in front of the doors. Some doors have dried citrus skins and red chili peppers to protect from the Evil Eye while others have religious decorations. Each home requires a deposit of at least 10,000-20,000 rupees and there is a waiting list as the homes are much in demand. Rent is about 3,000 rupees a month ($60 US) and between 80,000 people, there are seven public toilets.

While the wealthy and low income live side by side (slums next expensive high rises), Hindus, Muslims and Christians also live side by side. Going through the slum I often came across a little Hindu temple, next to an altar with a crucifix or a small mosque. Amongst the rubbish and a little temple, boys play cricket.

The slums have dhobi ghats (washing), shops, and recycling centers. I also met a few young adults who attend university and college in Mumbai and commute from the slums. They have lived in these slums for their whole life.

Each family is given 1 kilo of rice, 1 kilo of dalh (lentils) and some cooking oil a month from the government. Fresh water is available for an hour each day, but the ration cards for water are given not by the government, but by the politicians. And, you only receive a ration card for water as long as you promise to give that politician your vote and copies of the documents for your home (which will then go to contracters who can flatten the slums to make high rises if they have enough of these documents). Those who do not wish to receive ration cards from the politicians can get their water elsewhere. However, Gufran suspects that in at least ten years, his slum will be torn down.

The people who I met were so friendly and welcoming. Children ran up to have me take their photo and everyone smiled and said hello. In general, and from the outside, life seemed cheerful. It was a pleasure and a privilege to have a little view into a life so different from my own. Though, in the end, if you take away all the 'things', I wonder how different slum life is from my own...