City of chances

After an exhausting wakeup to an alarm clock at 4am a few days ago I managed to wrangle myself up from bed and to the rickshaw that was waiting for me outside. Managed to forget my towel and bathing suit to the balcony because they weren't dry enough for packing. Well, I don't know what my French friend finally did with them but I'm sure they found a nice place in this world. (probably being eaten by a cow somewhere by now).

I was a bit suspicious when the little tuk-tuk curved in front of a tall building and the driver just assured me that this in fact is the train station. 100Rs exchanged hands for a 7 minute nighttime journey and I was ready for my 14 hours/400Rs train ride. Yes, the building turned out to be a train station and to to amazement of us all the train was actually quite on time. A few minutes doesn't count as being late anywhere outside Finland. Shared the cart with a German couple, two swedes, one single German backpacker and about 50 natives. Slept through most of the journey but wound up sharing a cab with the swedes to central Mumbai as the train ride ended at a remote stand from where - according to the taxi drivers who might have had their own agenda - there weren't any trains to the center. Bounced around different hostels, some full, others too expensive until we finally ended up in India Guest House which achieved quite a surprising importance later on.

After the train our minds were set on food, shower and sleeping so the dusty darkness of Mumbai wasn't really appealing to us. And after the initial shock and discomfort the town seemed a lot nicer having slept properly. Our room numbers were exactly the same as the dates of our departure in December, 14 and 21. A funny coincidence.

First thing on our to-do list was arranging train out from this busy and hectic city. Turned out to be quite an impossible mission on a few days notice so we took the bus instead. Leaving tomorrow for Udaipur, should be arriving early Saturday morning.

We bounced around the city and were picked up from the street by a local "talent hunter" (it seems that having a pale skin is considered to be a talent) who asked if we wanted to be in a Bollywood movie. Well, how can you refuse that if you can see the production set, be a part of the movie and get paid while doing it? Or actually we were mostly paid for the lost free time since our main activity was killing time. Was quite fun though and we made a few funny pictures as some western nurses/doctors. I wonder if it will be possible to get a DVD of that because I might just have half seconds of screen time with Kareena Kapoor.

But the true nature of the city being a place of chances and weird odds opened itself truly when I was reading Shantaram in my shabby hotel room. Turned out that Mr. Roberts had slept in the very same hotel upon his initial arrival to Mumbai. The walls, the toilets, the staff... It all matched. It was quite mind-boggling to realize that you had drifted by chance to a hotel room where an Australian fugitive turned professional writer fled after successfully arranging himself out of his homeland with a forged passport. And the mood was exactly the same.

Turned out that a local bar we visited was also later brought up in the book, so a certain surreality that has surrounded me ever since arriving here finally made its presence fully known to me. Such a wonderful and weird country. Ugly and beautiful, awful and wonderful smelling and everything in between. Makes you tired just trying to see everything going around you.

Well, should probably get sleeping because the Friday-Saturday night might not be quite as pleasant even though the overpriced bus is supposed to be fairly well equipped with beds and air conditioning.

And the air conditioners seem to only have one setting in here: full. Mostly resulting in a breezy 18-degree hell-hole where you really need an extra cover to keep yourself warm.