We flew out of Hanoi to Kochi for a one night layover on our way to Mumbai. As on our way to Da Nang, we connected through Singapore, with just enough time for the photographer to take pictures of the orchids at the airport. Back in Kochi after a month in Vietnam felt a little surreal. Similar weather, completely different world. We stayed only a night at the airport Marriott Hotel, yet Michele won over the staff. Here we are with the executive chef and hostess at breakfast, taking photos with our breakfast thank-you cake. This must stop. The next morning, after we left Kochi, we woke and wondered where we were. We couldn’t find our boarding passes, so we looked out the window. We were someplace humid and rainy. That narrowed it down. Getting out onto the street didn’t help much. Taxi-driver feet are not terribly indicative. Once we were in a car and driving, though, it was clear we were in India. We had a couple of days in Mumbai before heading back to the US. We had visited Mumbai in 2008 and wanted to revisit a couple places, so we headed to Marine Drive. The first thing we noticed was the new bridge we took to cross the mouth of Mahim Bay. Much faster, until we got off the bridge. An hour and 20 minutes to go 22 km from the hotel to Chowpatty Beach. That’s an average of 10 mph.The number of new buildings going up in the business district is amazing. With the roads as they are, I’m not sure how people will get to them, though. We had the driver drop us at Chowpatty Beach (above and below). The day was rain-free so far, but no crowds on the beach. It’s not really a beach-goers beach, anyway. At night it’s more of a scene for locals, with food stalls and massages in the sand, but during the day it’s quiet, at least this time of year. We did see two boys having a great time in the incredibly filthy shore break. During monsoon, an amazing amount of crap washes into Back Bay and lines the beach. It makes one wonder if the boys will suffer any consequences for these frolics, as they get older. The stretch of Marine Drive from the beach to Nariman Point is called the queen’s necklace, for the lights that line the curved bay at night. It’s a 45-minute walk to the Oberoi at the end of the drive, past local tourists and umbrella cuddlersThe land all along the front of Marine Drive must be astonishingly valuable, yet so many of the buildings are in such disrepair, like this one, which seems to be disintegrating from the top down. The public infrastructure isn’t much better. This ferrous-cement flyover bridge along the drive is crumbling, while heavy traffic honks and hums over it. India seems to be uniquely challenged by a culture of build-it-and-forget it. Indians blame failing infrastructure on corrupt politicians, while they stand in front of their own dilapidated buildings and shops, amidst trash and ruin that they blithely ignore. Fascinating. Along our walk, we passed the Intercontinental Hotel, where we stayed on our last visit. We chose not to stay “in town” this time because of the hours it can take to travel the relatively short distance to and from the airport.At the end of our stroll we found food and air conditioning at the Oberoi. It was or 31st anniversary, so we’d made reservations for lunch at their Italian restaurant, kind of a complete-the-circle thing, having begun our year of travel in Italy and now ending it here in Mumbai. The ambience and food presentation was typical Oberoi — a bit over the top, despite it being a city hotel. But the result tasted very good. 31 years. Who would have guessed?After lunch we traded bay-side stroll for urban adventure, as we headed out to walk from the Oberoi, across the peninsula, to the Gateway of India. While dodging cars because sidewalks were broken, preempted, or simply never existed, we pass beautiful green spaces, like the Oval Madan (above) and striking grounds and buildings, like the art and history museum (below).After a missed turn or two (satellite views in Google maps utterly fail to represent India’s street-level experience), we arrived at the Gateway of India. Like our first visit, we were just about the only foreign tourists there, mainly because of the time of year.Built to commemorate King George’s 1911 visit to India, a cardboard and papier mache version greeted him on arrival. The stone version was finished later.Where the King once arrived, tourist boats now ply the water. This top-heavy one is headed for Elephanta Island and its statues and temples carved into the stone. We went last trip, so we just waved them off this time. And checked the headlines the next day to see if there was any news about capsized ferries and lost souls. Catty corner to the Gateway is the Taj Palace Hotel, where the 2008 terrorist attack killed over 150 people. As luck would have it, a monsoon thunderstorm rolled in just as we were finishing up. The Taj’s doorman called an air-conditioned taxi for us (yes, non-a/c is an option) and we headed back to the Hyatt Regency, where we were staying. The last time we were here, every taxi, and many private cars, were Mahindra Ambassadors. Now all the taxis are Hyundais. And this is the only Ambassador we saw.It took our taxi driver two and a half hours to get us back in the rush hour traffic. Long enough for the car to dry off completely. It cost 1,000 rupees. About USD $14.The next day we went to the Phoenix Market City Mall, another “largest mall in India.” It’s fun to visit malls in different countries and different cities. Much merchandise is the same the world over, but some are unique to a place, like so many clothing stores here selling only saree, choli, and salwar kameez. Plus we get to see the local middle class in their native habitat. That evening we walked to the Maratha hotel for their thali. We ate too much, of course. We love thali. And papadums with fried peppers. Then, just like that, a year of traveling abroad was over, and we were loading our luggage onto a trolly at Mumbai International Airport. A five-hour redeye back to Singapore, then 14 hours direct to Seattle.At least Singapore Airlines kept us fed.And the photographer was happy with the char siu and wonton noodles. Almost phở. Before we knew it, our jet-lagged okoles were over Seattle’s cloud bank …And we were back on the ground. With a new perspective on what Americans need to be warned not to do. In any case, after 34 flights, 24 hotel stays, and 13 vacation rentals, we are happy to call it a wrap. Until next time.
