One

So I'm in Mumbai and alive and well, so far.

I walked out the airport at 5am this morning, and at about the time I got in the taxi it suddenly hit me how much I loved India when I was here in 2005. It's something I can't explain. I know it's almost all to do with the people; India is her people. Anyway I got to my hotel ok, jumped in the shower, and then headed out. Saw my first sacred cow within a few minutes, and took the time to introduce myself. Hi, I'm Brendan, I'm new in the neighbourhood. Do you come here often? She didn't seem interested in talking though so I moved on, and soon saw more sacred cows and an elephant.

I'm not the same boy who arrived in Mumbai for the first time two years ago, but the senses pick up the same things. That mix of smells: chai, rotting vegetation, excrement, exhaust, damp heat, and the stuff they burn on the street for whatever they burn that stuff on the street for. And the food-related fear came back. I bought some bottled water, opened it, examined the seal and discarded it as it was covered in tiny white moving things. The next bottle I bought was fine. Then I bought some kind of cleansing lotion to wipe my hands before eating, and eno sachets in case there was a problem in the food itself. These preparations in place, I found a suitable restaurant, found a dish I recognised on the menu, and negotiated it with the Marathi-speaking waiter. Alu paratha (potato pancake with vegetables in it) with curd. Better than anything I've tasted in an Indian restaurant in England in the past two years. For lunch I gorged myself on a Gujarati Thali (a thali is a huge metal plate food is served on; ordering a thali is ordering an ongoing relationship with a waiter who brings more and more food just as you think you're winning with the stuff you've got in front of you). Having fun.