Diary By Steve

3rd February 2007

Our kids (Precious and Shit-head) took us to Sydney Airport where at least some of us delighted in the opportunity to buy any two one litre bottles of single malt whiskey for $A99. This turned out to be more important than usual….

We flew on a Singapore Airlines 747-400 leaving at 1245. We bumped Sir Giles and the sartorially elegant Fifi in the passenger loading dock. Fifi looked like she should have won a prize for something.

The only real pre-departure excitement was some loud banging, screaming and tertiary cussing coming from a men’s toilet in the terminal. We thought it might have been a pilot’s bonding session.

I found the Sydney – Singapore leg tedious. This was mainly due to the sub-continental gentleman in front of me who had his seat reclined so far back I could count his head lice. He had the habit of wrapping his alcohol-soaked fingers all over my abandoned video screen. I behaved myself.

Changi Airport was up to its normal well-appointed and comfortable standard and our few transit hours were spent easily enough. The 777-300 flight to Mumbai took a little under five hours and lasted forever, arriving just after 2300. Our baggage arrived a mere 90 minutes after we did. Welcome to India.

4th February 2007

There were literally hundreds of people outside the terminal with name cards. Our driver, Vijay, saw us before we saw him. Off to the Hilton Tower in a 17-seater bus and Mayette was smiling at the prospect of staying in her first five star hotel. Initially the traffic went nowhere but after the airport precinct logjam our journey was stop-free. This is very different to traffic-free. We collected staff along the way. We had no idea what their respective functions were but they all had mobile phones and were better dressed than we were. They were probably ringing each other to look busy. We weren’t sure whether they were local guides, agents, hotel staff or out of work Bollywood actors, but our bus slowly filled.

Check-in at the hotel was slow considering everyone in India had already been sent colour copies of our passport title pages. I expect that India will soon be the Steve Anyon-Smith and Dave Sheils et al capital of the world.

Four hours of sleep and a glorious shower later and we were tucking into a superb breakfast. Max, Dave, Mayette and I then found ourselves promenading along the Indian Ocean shorefront staring at fishing craft, a few gulls and terns and our first boxed set of lounging locals.

Mr Joy, the boss-man of Prudent Networks met us after our stroll and relieved us of large sums of USD. We had lurking background fears that we might have just had the most expensive night in a hotel in history should we never see Mr Joy or anybody that knew him ever again. But he handed us an impressive pile of papers in exchange for our $US20,000 +, so we felt a bit better about the deal.

Mid-morning and our first guide, Anil, took us to the Gateway of India and from there to the Elephanta Caves.

GATEWAY OF INDIA:

The Gateway of India is one of the main attractions of Mumbai city. It was built to commemorate the visit of King George V and Queen Mary for the Delhi Durbar in 1911. Situated at the Apollo Bunder, the gateway holds greater historical significance as the last of the British troops that left India by sea marched through its portals. The monument is complete with four turrets and intricate latticework carved into the yellow basalt stone.

ELEPHANTA CAVES:

An informative well-bearded government guide explained the Elephanta Caves to us. We thought they were fantastic, but hey, this was our first temple stop and we had no idea what was ahead of us. Luckily we managed our first mammal tick of the tour with numerous tame bonnet macaques lurking about and stealing stuff.

We lunched at a picturesque site overlooking the port of Mumbai and the forested slope of the island. Our bird list was jump-started, even to the extent of my first lifer in the form of purple-rumped sunbird.

On our return we found a new guide waiting for us. I was starting to forget their names as their guiding half-life became shorter and shorter. This chap had the comic habit of asking questions and then answering them himself a split second before we could. It became a game that kept us awake. His guiding patch took in the Hanging Gardens (ergh), Chowpatty Beach (hmmm), where the rich buggers live (yuck), and finally some very impressive British-built sandstone buildings within Bombay University and elsewhere. As Bro Dave was heard to say – “the Poms certainly didn’t think they were ever leaving”.

We paid a lightning visit to our ex-hotel to grab our bags and then hare off in the direction of an alcohol-free restaurant. We enjoyed an equally frantic sprint to the railway station for the overnight express train to Ahmedabad in the State of Gujarat.

Our train was almost long enough to reach the next stop whilst still parked in Mumbai. Our particular car was labeled “3 Tier A/C Sleeper”. This meant we were stacked three high, there was some form of air conditioning.