Mumbai to Dubai

Mumbai to Dubai in four days

Our trip to the Taj Mahal began in Mumbai.

Thirty five trippers left the ship at noon by coach and after a tour of the city we left for the airport for a flight to Jaipur. Mumbai is quite a large city with extremes of rich and poor. The usual high end shops were in the main area of lovely old, well built buildings and the hovels and trash were on the outskirts. Traffic is a nightmare as we were to find throughout India once you approached any town or city. It was nothing to see three to four people on a small two stroke motor bike. It was not unusual to see a whole family, father driving, child sat in front on the tank and the mother holding a baby sat behind, often side saddle. These bikes were being driven at fast speeds and weaving in and out of traffic. The drivers wore helmets but non of the passengers had them. Very scary!

The question in our minds was, Slum Dog Millionaire, was this an exaggeration? Quick answer no! We saw for ourselves the mass of tiny shacks stacked against each other and stretching for miles as we drove over the bridges on our way to the airport. Shanghai looked much better than this and had an order to it we would never see in India.

Our guide told us the population of India was between 1.2 and 1.4 billion and it cost $100 million to even run a census. A new mouth to feed occurred every 3 seconds which meant that 25 million new Indians arrived every year or equivalent to the population of Australia. This birth rate meant that 55% of the population were younger than 35, the opposite of the situation in China. The problem was that most of these young people were out of work, as we would know it in the west, but lived on the black economy at subsistence level. This was made worse by the caste system which made it impossible to get anyone to clean up unless they were at the bottom of the totem pole. Worse, the government appeared to be indifferent to the situation.

The result of all this is a high population of beggars, street sellers, waifs and strays everywhere we went. The streets were teeming with people to a point where it was difficult to walk in a straight line anywhere. We weaved through people, cows, cars, motorbikes, trucks, and camels. In some places the monkeys ran along the roof tops peering in windows. Sometimes flocks of birds were mixed in and it was obvious that the line between humans and wild or domestic animals was completely blurred.

Our first visit in the journey was to Jaipur, We arrived at Jaipur airport aboard an Indian airways flight. The Maharaja of Jodhpur was sat in first class, we later found out. It was a good flight and a newer plane. We were served lunch which would have been nice except we could not eat wheat and most of the meal had wheat somewhere in it. We contented ourselves with some nuts and a gluten free power bar which we had in our bags.

Along the road to Jaipur, in our coach, the scenes hardly changed from what we had seen in Cochin. We would approach a village and see the same scene of men crouched over, mending a pile of shoes on the side walk, stripping tires and engines of trucks, cars and motor bikes, or operating a small market stall. Hundreds of decrepit but garishly painted trucks being loaded and unloaded with bricks, rice chaff, anything you can imagine. The oil tankers were old and filthy looking and numerous. Trucks being repaired exactly where they broke down. Traffic moving on either side of the road with no regard for lanes or the rules of the road.

We arrived at our ‘hotel’ set in a splendid park. It was one of the Palaces of the Maharaja of Jaipur originally, or as it turned out to be, his hunting lodge. It was made from marble throughout and extensive in size, with wonderfully landscaped gardens and peacocks strolling around. It was turned into a hotel in recent years but most of the splendor remains, or even upgraded, especially the plumbing probably. The theme was art deco and extravagantly done at that. We were greeted in reception with a Night Jasmine garland and a refreshing drink of cool Lychee juice. The customary red dot was placed on our foreheads and greeted with the word “Namaste“, meaning welcome. Everyone wore traditional dress, the women in beautiful saris and the men wore turbans and calf length coats over jodhpur type trousers. We felt a little scruffy among such splendor.

After a freshen up we had some time spare before dinner. Rob and I took a walk around the grounds and took many photos. We found an old train with carriages which used to carry the Maharaja and his guests from the lodge to his palace which was close by and still in use today. The carriages of the train are now being used as a restaurant and night club, named “Steam” We saw many birds and peacocks. The perfume of the flowers was very intense and made you feel quite heady in the warmth of the evening. We could here a noise of drums and music in the distance, so decided to investigate. It was coming from the front of the hotel where a group of people had congregated. In front of them were two elephants brightly painted and in full regalia, two camels and four lancers on horseback, equally dressed to the nines. The music was coming from a small group, also dressed in orange traditional dress, playing drums and pipes. We did not recognize anyone in the group and decided that it must be a private party. Slowly, the elephants began to move, followed by camels, lancers, band and group along the wide path to another area of the garden. In the meantime, large glass bowls were being laid out on another paved, raised path . These were half filled with water and red flowers were floating on top with a candle, lit, in the center. In the dusk it looked wonderful. Indian music began to fill the air and a dancer appeared. She gave a display of Indian dancing to anyone who wanted to listen and watch. On either side of this path were large lawns. Tables had been set and some were having dinner in the open air. Our meal was inside, in a private room, one of the many banquet halls.

Next day we drove inside the Pink City. This was created by a Maharajah to help the starving farmers during a three year drought. The city was set out in a planned development in approximately 1750. This was an example of planned public housing on the grand scale by a brilliant leader and planner. The buildings were made from local stone which is different shades of pink. The extensive structures consisted of long rows of three storey housing, shops, squares and a palace for the Maharajah. In one large square he had an observatory constructed with several sun dials of extraordinary accuracy and size. There were also marble structures which detailed the movement of the stars and planets and areas with columns for forecasting astrological data. It was very interesting and of special interest to the Indians who put great store on astrological forecasting for their position in the caste system. Although the caste system was officially abolished some years ago, in practice it still exists. This particular maharajah was a scholar of mathematics and a linguist. He may have been very rich and autocratic but one could admire him for the care of his subjects and his skill as a leader. What he created looked better than the ‘democratic’ India of today.

After lunch we set off for Agra which was a five hour coach journey. This took us through the rice growing area. The season had just ended and the fields were full of chaff which was spread around as fertilizer. The stalks of the rice were being gathered, bundled and left at the side of the road for anyone who wanted it. Many camel drawn trailers were involved in this. The main use of this product was fuel and brick making.

The fields gave way to brick making areas with high chimneys everywhere showing where the kilns were. Stacks of new, unbaked bricks were in abundance together with the baked goods. Trucks were arriving to take these away. As the coach proceeded the industry changed and we were soon in the stone cutting and dressing area.

Many small open air shops were along the roadway displaying their wares. These consisted of urns, arches, columns, large bowls, in fact anything you wanted. The stone in this area is a soft sandstone shaded from brick red to a light pink. It looks very pretty. As all these areas are far away from the main towns and cities the trash and traffic was less. However, the houses looked very tiny and consisted, in some cases, of no more than a hut, with a camel or buffalo sitting outside the door. Most of the houses looked like UK bus shelters, e.g. three sides and a roof in cement. Whether they had a pull down door or not we were not able to see. We did observe some funny driving, even in these rural areas. We were to make a stop at a “restaurant” or half way house for a comfort break. This place was on the opposite side of the dual carriageway. Instead of driving to the next cut through, the driver took the one before and drove up the wrong side of the dual carriageway to reach the restaurant. Luckily. There was not much traffic in the area. There were many gasps from people at the front of the bus. We also observed our coach overtaking a slow moving, heavily laden truck in the outside lane and a couple of cars used the hard shoulder to pass us all at the same time.

It was late afternoon when we reached Agra. It was busy and dirty. However, once again we were driven to a more secluded part of town and through guarded gates to experience yet another beautiful palace for the evening . This palace was black and white marble. It was different from Jaipur but just as grand. Another very good, buffet meal had been prepared and we were surprised, as we had been at Jaipur, that they were aware of gluten free diets and were very helpful in choosing which dishes we could eat. They offered Robert a special meal and he accepted while I enjoyed the faire that was offered. There were many dishes to choose from and four courses in all. We were promised gluten free toast for breakfast. I would love to be able to cook some of the dishes. They were so different and not too spicy. They were surprised and delighted when we asked for popadoms and mango chutney. They made the popadoms especially for us which we offered to others at the table. Some accepted, some refused without trying, some pulled their faces at everything that was offered.

Next day we had to be on the road for 5:00am. This was to see the sun rise over the Taj Mahal and avoid the heat and crowds. After a short coach ride and even shorter walk we were finally at the gates of one of the great wonders of the world. There was a line already formed and we had to line up, ladies on one side and gents on the other. This confused us but all was revealed once inside where we had to go through the electronic arch and be patted down. The ladies entered a tent like covering to be patted down but the men were done in the open.

Once through security, we collected around our guide and he explained the history of the Taj and also the walls surrounding it, which were made of the red stone and had its own story to tell. We walked up a ramp and through a tall stone gateway and there in front of us, in all its splendour stood theTaj Mahal. It was built for the wife of the Maharaja who died giving birth to their fourteenth child. This was his favourite wife and did great things for the people. He went into hiding for a long time and it is said that his hair was white when he returned. His life was not a happy one after this. One of his sons killed off the brothers who would inherit the title so that he would be the heir. He then beheaded the favorite son and served it to the Maharaja on a serving dish. This finished off the Maharaja and he resigned. The son then imprisoned him in a fort which had been built on the opposite side of the river from the Taj.

The Taj is as beautiful as described. Made of white marble embedded with precious and semi precious stones. We were surprised and delighted that you could enter the building and observe the intricate carvings and filigreed, marbled walls. We followed our guide around and he pointed out the details. Too soon we were back out and down the steep steps to the gardens in front. These are beautifully laid out. Now we were bombarded by local photographers eager to show us where Dianne had sat to have her photo taken. Many were queuing to repeat the picture for themselves which seemed strange for Indians to be doing this.

Once outside the red walls, we were harassed by hawkers trying to sell Taj Mahal replicas, probably made in China, books, pens, you name it. Children were used heavily in this, as were blind and crippled and young girls with babies over their shoulders all begging for something. It was very difficult to pass these people. Our guide had for warned us that the crippled children are often done by the parents at birth so that they could use them for begging. The women with the babies was another story. The babies would very often not be theirs. The babies would have been left in care while the mothers went to work. The babies, in turn, would be doped, to keep them from crying, and rented out to beg. It was horrible to watch. I would not have believed it but the film, ”Slum Dog Millionaire” confirmed that these practices were true.

We moved on to the fort, a massive structure making castles in the UK look like a toy fort, better yet it was in pristine condition. A moat surrounded the fort that was filled with water and hungry alligators in its day. Through the main gate over a drawbridge a long road rose up the main fort which twisted around to avoid the use of battering rams on the inner gate. The gates had long spikes protruding so that elephants could not be used to against the gate either. Smart thinking.

Inside the main fort was quadrangle of high walls. European looking stone window spaces but tiny peepholes pierced through. These where the quarters used by the Maharaja’s many wives and concubines. They could peer out but were not to be seen.

The large square contained gardens and fountains that could still be made to work as the water was drawn from the river into cisterns which fed the fountains through clay pipes which were still in good working order. The spouts were made of copper so they had not corroded away. Smarter than the Romans.

The stone work was of a very high standard and the decorations of the fort overall was marvelous and in great condition.

It was a sad place. The Maharaja, who was the builder of the Taj Mahal, was imprisoned at the end of the quadrangle by one of his sons. It overlooks the river valley and the Taj Mahal.. He died there contemplating the almost ruination of his empire by the cost of his creation and the death of most of his family. At the same time he left behind a monument that ranks as one of the seven wonders of the ‘New World’ and a must see on the bucket list.

Our visit to the Taj Mahal being over we returned to the hotel for a delicious lunch, then another five hour drive to Delhi. We experienced the same sites and road practices and trash in the towns. We observed a local bus pulling up in front of us. As the bus came to a halt, bottles, packages, etc, came flying though windows onto the sidewalk; they hit the wall and slid down into the ever growing pile of trash.

Arriving in Delhi we could see that there was hevy construction taking place for a new Metro. This covered miles. Along the building areas, houses and shops had been demolished and were in piles of rubble waiting to be taken away, we hoped. There were no pedestrian walkways available and we observed many people trying to cross the street while cars, etc., were whizzing by on diversions, temporary, makeshift roads, while the sacred cows lay among it all. Our coach weaved its way along, rolling and bumping, everyone tooting their horns until we finally reached the New Delhi area. There are two parts to Delhi, New Delhi and Old Delhi. They are one city. We had just come through the old part and had entered the new part built by the British during its occupation which ended in 1947. What a difference. We now have wide, manicured, central reservation on broad three lane dual carriageways. The buildings are large and impressive in their own grounds. They were built for the various embassies which are still housed in them. They were also used for the viceroy and the many people who lived here during the occupation. They must have had a ball. How they could live with the squalor on their doorstep is another matter and beats me.

Again, it was late evening and dark. We were taken to a 5 star hotel in the New Delhi area, thank goodness. We had a special private dinner waiting for us, after we had freshened up. It was on the top floor with a large patio area. A big sign outside the restaurant read “Closed, Private Party” It made us feel special. On the patio there was wine and appetizers of all descriptions and very tasty. When we were ready we could enter the restaurant where yet another magnificent buffet was laid. We certainly did not go hungry. One again the waiters were dressed in

traditional dress and we were greeted with the now familiar “Namaste”.

After dinner we retired as soon as we could. It had been a long day and we had to have our cases ready and outside in the lobby by 5:15am. This meant getting up even earlier so that we could use and re-pack everything. We had to remember that we could not take anything liquid etc., on the plane to Dubai. This meant searching and emptying purses of the necessary hand sanitizer, drinking water, etc. We had breakfast in the downstairs restaurant which was all set for us. We got our gluten free toast again and helped ourselves to the buffet. After breakfast we boarded our coach for a nice early morning tour of New Delhi finally arriving at the airport to board an Emirates flight. The plane was a Boeing 777, very new. It had a mist being sprayed from above to decrease the dryness. It felt good. The airline food was very good and we only had economy seats. We were given cloths to refresh ourselves and all beverages were free and you could have as much as you liked. The flight was very good and we soon found ourselves in Dubai.

Everything went well until we reached immigration. They didn’t like the look of our paper work. Rob and I, together with one other passenger were asked and escorted to a secure section. We asked again what the problem was and they reported that the computer stated we had already arrived the day before. I explained that they then had a problem as there were thirty five of us in the same party. They looked shocked. One story was that the ship, having arrived on the same day, had a number leaving the ship on a day tour. The ship forgot to mention that 35 of us were arriving from India by plane. Another story was that the port authority had stamped the ship’s arrival papers with the wrong date which put us, as stated, already in the country. After a two hour delay and a collection of passports to have the arrival date stamped, we were allowed to leave and get the coaches back to the ship. We all gave a big cheer when we entered the docks and passenger terminal. Everyone took in good humour except one or two who were hoping to get the trip cost refunded as compensation. Good Luck with that one.

I managed to get two nice photos in the secure room waiting for the rest of the group to file through immigration and be “arrested”. I told the three guys who were holding our passports, twiddling their thumbs and discussing what they were going to do about the problem, that they looked very smart and handsome and asked if I could take their picture. They swelled up with pride and with big smiles, arranged their head dresses, etc., and posed. Then an army officer arrived dressed in green with tons of braid everywhere. He looked disappointed that his picture had not been taken so asking his permission I had one taken by his side. He had smiles all over his face. What an experience.

As a last note we have to say that although India is a trash ridden place, the people themselves are very clean. Their clothes are clean and bright and how they do it is a miracle in itself. They are also very friendly and kind. They are eager to wave and smile as the coach goes by. They will point out a hazard and may even hold out an arm or hand to assist you. A nice experience.