Sunday 13th April
Well, first boob of the trip! Climbed aboard our coach for our tour “The Best of Bombay” now before you say anything, I know you are going to ask wasn’t it (or isn’t it) Mumbai? But we learnt at a lecture by Dr Ram Seth that when the city’s name changed to Bombay it was merely a mistake in the interpretation of the pronunciation of the name of one of the original seven islands that the city is now built on. They thought they were saying Bombay because they pronounced it Mombiayi with a nasal M so they heard Bombay, so Bombay it was and the way it was pronounced and phonetically spelt for 100’s of years until 1996 when the mistake was formally corrected. The name didn’t change at all, only the way it was pronounced.
Anyway I digress! The boob. I forgot my camera, so the trip round the best that Bombay has to offer is without photos. You are going to have to rely on your imaginations based on my descriptions. It may well be for the best because we were dismayed by the way these once majestic buildings had been allowed to fall into such a state of disrepair. A World Heritage Site (would you believe?) crumbling and decaying to a point of being condemned in some cases. These buildings do not deserve this, most of them were brand new in the 1890’s, less than a hundred and twenty-five years old and the quality of the build still shines through, no expense spared! The wealth of India at that time is reflected in these structures. And the poverty of India now, shows how they have looked after them. Wars with their neighbours, (once their own countrymen), development of nuclear weapons, space race, all of these things have contributed to the neglect of what I feel the locals today would really appreciate, a decent environment within which to live.
It is not just the buildings that have suffered. The roads show the lack of concern for the basic infrastructure, repairs left unfinished, surface’s crumbling like underdone shortbread. Traffic control, none existent to the extent that total anarchy on the road has bizarrely resulted in some sort of order. Hands pressed hard on the horn to compensate for the inadequacies of the noise their engines make, vehicles of all types jostle for supremacy of the available space. And, when I say vehicles I actually mean road users. In amongst this chaos is/are (would you believe) pedestrians! They cross the streams of chaotic traffic with the wary eye of a cat taking a short cut through a dog’s home, breaking into a short sprint every now and then.
The safest road user in Bombay is a cow, they walk proudly wherever they wish with impunity, not one other road user wants to tangle with a cow! Not because they themselves are holy, but because they have gods in their stomachs, this is why they are there, so that the locals can appease the gods by feeding them. The cow eats the food and the gods get the benefit. These days though Cows are not allowed to wander at will in the city as there is too much traffic, so they are brought into town on a rope, tied up and enterprising cattle owners bring cattle feed in with them, sell it to passers-by, who then feed it to the cow, thus clocking up credits with the gods. Some don’t have the time to feed the cow, so they pay the owner for the food and a little bit more for him to feed his own cow! Whether he does or not is not known, but the temptation to hang on and then resell the same food to another passer-by must be overwhelming. When it’s time to take the cow home the owner just sets it free and off up the road it wanders, some owners have two or three. They all know their way home and as the route for them is effectively traffic free, a cow is probably the most efficient way of getting from a to b. There are three things you need to drive in Bombay, A good horn, good brakes and good luck. When asked what it the correct side of the road to drive, the answer will invariably be “the Shadyside”
As it was a Sunday morning we were dropped off close to St Thomas Cathedral (completed in 1718) which could be any Cathedral anywhere in the UK, except when we looked inside the wide open doors, there were fifty or more ceiling fans whirling away at high speed over the heads of the, not inconsiderable congregation and as it was palm Sunday we were all presented with a palm leaf. On we walked through the (deserted) financial district. Kids everywhere taking advantage of the empty streets to play cricket. We were told that the Victoria Railway terminus we were heading for disgorged two to three million workers into Bombay every weekday, most of them into this area. Though a Sunday this Terminus was extremely busy with all platforms in use, like many of the other old buildings its look has been spoilt by the many cheap alterations with modern materials. Cables were festooned everywhere with no thought of how they affected the look of the original architecture.
We moved on past other once magnificent buildings some in the process of being restored, others sitting under the grime and neglect imposed on them through the years, now homes for pigeons and other wildlife as we rounded the corner of the Mumbai High Court and University Buildings (both spectacular buildings). We were faced with a huge area full of boys playing cricket. The games were as close together as the wickets are on a test ground very little room for fielders. This was Mumbai’s Oval Mandan. 22 acres of land set aside purely for cricket right in the centre of Mumbai and every square foot was being used. There is room for seven cricket fields on this space if it was used for matches instead of practise and if this many boys play cricket regularly in Mumbai then India should never have trouble in raising a test side. And there was a constant stream of boys leaving and arriving.
After an Indian lunch we visited other highlights including the Watson hotel (now almost a total wreck) where Tata was so humiliated by being refused service he went on to build the Tahj Mahal, the most luxurious hotel in Mumbai and the target of the terrorist attack in Nov 2008. Before returning on board we were dropped off at an Indian crafts shop in order that we may spend a pleasant few moments and a pleasant few rupees which several people did. And that dear folks was about that for Carols Birthday. She was pleased with the cards she got and I’m pleased that I no longer have to get cross with her when she goes in the drawer where I hid them.
