Colaba
Elephanta Island, Selfies With Strangers, and Downtown Mumbai
I spent Saturday in Mumbai doing standard tourist things, but doing them in my own way. I got up early and caught the most basic city bus from near my hostel all the way to the Colaba area in the South of Mumbai. It cost a whole 35 rupees (about forty cents). It was the first time I had seen traffic flow so smoothly through any Indian city. But then, it was 6:30 a.m. on a Saturday. I arrived at the Gateway of India well before 8:00. My plan was to catch a ferry out to Elephanta Island to see the caves. The gates opened at 9:00 from what I understood. I assumed then, that there might be ferries commencing at 8:15 or 8:30. That was a bad assumption. It was suggested that there might be a ferry at 9:00. In reality, it didn’t leave until 9:30. They had apparently waited to sell the last few seats before departing, Georgian marshrutka style.
This was all fine. I was in no hurry. I met a friend – another David from America. He was a 49 year old restaurant entrepreneur and developer. We joked about being the victims of tourist targeting and had interesting discussions on geography, history, politics, and religion throughout the ferry rides over and back. I also walked around the area while we awaited the ferry. I snapped photos of the Gateway of India and the Taj Palace Hotel. I posed for pictures with Indian tourists when they asked, which they did. The ferry took just under an hour. The visit to the caves, including the walk to and from, was only about a two hour affair. This left plenty of time to see the other Mumbai tourist attractions after I arrived back from Elephanta.
Elephanta Island is most famous for a set of cave temples hewn out of the rocks sometime between the 5th and 7th centuries. The art is primarily Hindu. Most of the sculptures and reliefs are Shivas and other images narrating Hindu mythology. You ride out to these caves on a rickety looking ferry boat that costs 290 rupees, round trip. Next, there is an option to take a very well worn “toy train” across about 500 meters of flat terrain to the base of the steps that lead to the caves. Of course, the toy train is not free, and it does not bypass the vendor tunnel you must traverse to reach the main attraction. Along the way, there are little monkeys monkeying around.
There are five caves in the main group, but really the first one houses all of the important art. The others are all much smaller and were either unfinished, destroyed, or merely residential. The images in cave number one are alone worth the visit. A couple of the security guards in the first cave offered to take my photo since I was there solo. I immediately assumed they were trying to run this as a side hustle to skim a few extra rupees, and declined the first couple of offers. I politely explained to the third offering guard why I demurred. He replied that it wasn’t for money, he was just offering to do it. I let him snap a couple of shots and thanked him profusely. It was an almost heart-warming moment to have someone offer to do this small thing just out of kindness, after the constant barrage of pressure sales, guide offerings, and the general sense that everyone sees you as a cash machine.
That feeling didn’t last for long, though. The security guards at the four smaller caves all had additional stories they wanted to tell you about their caves, offered to take photos, or even let you into restricted places – all for an additional “gratuity,” of course. We were in still in India.
(Continued)
Since the cave complex is a short walk, and really the first cave has all of the important art in it, it does not take all that long to visit the Elephanta Caves. I walked them all a couple of times and was still back to the return ferry launch in time to catch the first boat back to the Gateway of India. I bade David farewell, and walked to a local mid-tier restaurant where I enjoyed a very good mutton biryiani lunch.
I next made my way toward Marine Drive. I made sure my route took me through the highly recommended Colaba Causeway Market. As one might expect, this was just a jam packed area of overpriced souvenirs and especially pushy touts and salesmen. I had people chasing me down the street explaining how quickly they could make me a couple of new, tailored suits. I was happy to exit the other side.
It was a hot walk down the Marine Drive promenade in the middle of the afternoon. Mumbai has somehow gotten this walkway listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. It leads one to the conclusion that, like U.S. National Parks, governments have continued to add places to the list that perhaps don’t pack the same punch of significance that the originals did. Capitol Reef is nice, but it isn’t the Grand Canyon. Likewise, Marine Drive is an attraction in Mumbai, but it isn’t the Taj Mahal. Nevertheless, I was in Mumbai, and it was one of the main attractions. So I was set on walking it while I was in the touristy part of town, and I did. I walked the entire length, some 2 miles or more. I passed Chowpatty Beach. I posed for photos with Indian tourists. I sat and visited with children once I reached some shade.
I was still approached often for photos with strangers. It happened more often when Caleb was with me. Even now, though, I stopped to take photos shaking hands or smiling alongside several groups of men I didn’t know or share any experience with other than that we were tourists at the same time in Mumbai. I take this as a compliment. These folks are excited that I am a foreigner interested enough to visit their country. That’s pretty cool, if you think about it. I have always seen this as a mildly comical contrast, though, to the many scams being run to try to squeeze money from tourists merely for snapping the tourist’s picture. I decided to make some light of this contrast.
While walking along this promenade, also known as “the Queen’s Necklace,” I freely posed for photos with any Indians who asked, as I always do. But after they were done snapping all of their selfies with the big white guy, I held my hand out, palm up, and said, “Rupees ten.” Many of them got the joke immediately and we pointed at each other and laughed even if we couldn’t otherwise communicate. But a couple of times, the poor Indian tourist stared at me wide-eyed and slowly reached into his pocket to draw out a tattered ten rupee note. “No, no,” I shook my hands back and forth. “It’s just a joke!” I was unsure whether continue with this gag, since about ¼ of my selfie friends didn’t seem to understand it was a joke. It was great fun when it worked, though.
(Continued)
My last stop for the day was the hanging gardens situated right at the end of Marine Drive, near Chowpatty Beach. I climbed the hill and enjoyed the nice city views from the park. It had been a good day, and it seemed I would reach my neighborhood by a reasonable hour. It would take a three bus connection and about an hour and a half total to get home. I hopped on the first bus and cruised down the hill. The second bus was a short leg and didn’t appear where and when I expected, so I just walked to the stop where I would catch the final bus. It was a hectic, crowded, dodging affair through a dirty part of town on a still hot afternoon. I got to a filthy bus stand with homeless people sleeping on the bench. I waited there for ninety minutes for a bus scheduled to depart every half hour. Finally, I gave up and used InDrive to grab a cab back to a restaurant in my neighborhood. It wasn’t an early night after all.
The owner of the North Indian restaurant I arrived at suggested I try Laal Maas, a mutton curry popular in Rajastan. It was just delicious. The curry has some garlic in it and a distinct smoky flavor that I thoroughly enjoyed. It went perfectly with the slightly minty roti they brought me to eat with it. I ate enough of it with my fingers that I actually had use for the little finger washing bowl some Indian places bring you when your main course is complete… at first I mistook this for a lemon water I was supposed to drink.
By the time I got back to the room, it had been a very long day. I rinsed off the day’s sweat and grime and settled in for a good night’s rest ahead of a Sunday of worship services I was really looking forward to.
