Walking out of the hotel into my first day in India was quite
incredible. Where the hell did all these people come from,
and what were they planning on doing all day? I would love
to have hung around to find out but i was too freaked out.
All i wanted to do was get the hell away from where i was,
and head down to a place called Colaba, which was where i
was supposed to have gone the night before, or just head to
the train station and get a ticket down to Goa. It was around
8.15am, i was shattered and i felt as though i was walking
around in a huge oven. Indian people kept coming up to me
and touching me and saying stuff to me, which i obviously
didn't understand as my Indian isn't really what it used to be.
I was trying to find a taxi or a rickshaw but there was
nothing around and i kept getting distracted by all the weird
shit that was going on around me. I walked across the street
and nearly got knocked down by a chicken truck. I call it a
chicken truck as it was a huge truck with a cage on the back
filled with thousands of chickens going fucking mental.
I felt so sorry for them and wanted to take a photo but as
soon as i got my camera out i was surrounded by fifteen
million Indians all grabbing at me. Being already a wee bit
freaked out, i decided to get the fuck away from the crowd,
but everywhere i went i just got followed around. I couldn't
even run cos my rucksack was so fucking heavy. Did an
elephant sneak into my bag without me noticing? Finally, i
saw a guy washing what appeared to be goat vomit from the
back seat of his cab. I didn't give a fuck, id have licked it
clean if i had to just to get away from the place.
'Hello, can you take me to the train station please?'
No response, just a smile and a shake of the head. Was that
a 'yes' or what?
'The train station. Do you know it?'
Already, there were five or six kids around me poking and
prodding me.
'Ingleesh no good.' The rickshaw driver informed me.
Shit, well at least he talks. I fumbled about my rucksack and
found my lonely planet guide. I found Mumbai, then flicked
through the pages. Fuck, how can it be so fucking hot?
'Got it. Ok. Can you take me to the Chhatrapati Shivaji
Terminus please? Im trying to get to Goa.'
He just stared at me, but really, if his Ingleesh was no very
good, it was me who was the asshole who expected him to
read what i was pointing at. I showed the map to the kids
and they all had a talk amongst themselves for a while and
then i was told ok, and to get in. I thanked the kids, got into
the rickshaw and made myself comfortable amongst the rest
of the goat puke that the driver forgot to clean out as i had
distracted him. My first rickshaw ride. Excellent, i can sit
back and relax for a while, and take in the city.
No fucking chance! I like rollercoasters and white knuckle
rides but within minutes i realised that they were nothing.
My driver, whos name was Sarek, was weaving in and out of
the traffic, cutting people up, driving on the pavement.
Within about five minutes he had added an extra few dents
to his banana mobile. Once again, i was shitting it. I've got
to admit though, i loved every life threatening minute of it.
Even the rickshaw journeys were full on. I started to think
that maybe i still didn't know what i had let myself in for.
Everytime we stopped, an Indian woman, usually holding
about twenty six kids, would thrust herself into the back
where i was sitting and shout 'rupees, rupees'. Some would
even grab on to my t-shirt and get dragged along the road
when Sarek managed to find a space in the traffic to
advance. I finally saw first hand what true poverty is while
we drove to the train station. I asked Sarek how long it
would take and he told me around an hour. That was okay i
suppose as it was a fixed price of a hundred rupees. I was
probably getting ripped off but the way i looked at it, it was
still very cheap and he was really doing me a favour and i
liked the guy. He told me that he wanted to go to Scotland
to work as a taxi driver. Fuck, the way those bastards drive,
he'd fit right in. We stopped at a garage to fill up, but
instead of petrol, they are run by gas. Should i really have
smoked those twelve cigarettes while my arse was sitting
above the gas container? Ah fuck it!
We finally arrived at the train station, and i could only
look on in amazement to the amount of people there were.
Where the fuck are they all going? I had never seen so many
people in all my life. And everywhere i walked i got
followed around by Indian guys. I was a wee bit nervous to
say the least. Every single person who saw me just stared,
but the scary thing was, not one person smiled at me. I
hadn't seen any other foreigners since arriving in Mumbai
and i was beginning to think that it was all a joke. That no
one ever came to India. Just complete dickheads like me.
Sarek was kind enough to come with me and he helped me
find the place to get a ticket. The queues were massive and
it took forty five minutes before i got to the desk. There
were loads of police around with batons making sure no one
jumped the line. I saw a guy jump a queue and the police
dragged him out, belted him on the legs a few times and
kicked him out the station. Even the train stations are
fucking mad. I decided there and then that my goal for the
day was to find something that i thought to be normal.

I never did.

I finally got a ticket to Goa and it was leaving in two hours
time, i though id take it and not bother hanging around
Mumbai. It was all too much for a wee pussy like me all in
one go. I'll go to Goa, chill out and gradually get used to
India and head to Mumbai at a later date. I had my ticket, i
bought Sarek a cup of tea and a sandwich, gave him 50
rupees and thanked him for helping me out.
We said goodbye, and i smoked a few cigarettes and then
went to find my train.

I swear to God, an hour later, if Sarek was with me, id have
kicked him in the balls. Once again, id been fucked over.
Now....... do i get the train to Goa, or stay in Mumbai.
I could not make my mind up.






To be continued.........