Some things you never get used to

It's been a quiet week, with work keeping me out of mischief and then the sun for the last couple of days has kept me off the streets for more than an hour or so each day (still got some decent shots - click on the title to see the Flickr pics).

So I thought that I'd put down some of the things that have struck me while I'm here. None of them are hugely significant, but hopefully will add up to give a flavour of the place.

This blog's title comes from lyrics to Elvis Costello's High Fidelity. The words come to mind repeatedly when I'm here. At least, I hope I don't get used to lots of the things I see. Many of these are things I don't feel that I can take photos of yet - the lowest levels of poverty seem so stripped of human dignity that taking pictures of it just seem wrong. I kind of hope that I can get over that feeling while I'm here so that I can get the pictures. I also hope that the people are prepared to let me take the pictures - I'm not at all sure I would in their places.

The drive to work in the morning is a prime example. It only takes 10 - 15 minutes to get there in the taxi, leaving the 5 star hotel at about 8:10. However, the route takes us through a very poor part of town and there is consistency to the trip.

We turn right out of the hotel and try to turn right under the flyover being built. This normally takes a while, but leads on to the main road, a shopping area with some fancy shops. We turn off just before the next flyover, past the older couples (mostly) living on the street there. Turning left we go over a bridge with lots of other cars, bikes, motor bikes, lorries, and the occasional hand or buffalo cart (which really slows things down).

Turning onto a one way system we go under a flyover. On the right there is a young man in shorts who is washing himself and is covered in soap (if he isn't there then we're running late). Opposite him and a little further up a family is normally just beginning the process of getting up. They have no shelter other than some blankets. Back to the right hand side of the road there is a small shrine, and a family group a bit further up. The older woman has dyed red hair (apparently a sign that she's been on a pilgrimage). As we turn right there are 3 children sleeping on the pavement.

The main road that we take from there to work has a number of shops down both sides (including barbers / wet shavers). There is also a lovely looking white temple with the upper dome covered in scaffolding (as with so many buildings here). Just a little bit further down the road is what I call Tent Alley. There's maybe a dozen families living on the pavement, each with some sort of fabric out over the pavements like a tent. Whole families live in these and it's normal to see them dressing, washing, cooking (around open fires that they set up) and generally living their lives.

The final thing of note before we get to work is the double shrine. There's a standard shrine, then a small stall selling flower garlands, and then next to it is a large stand containing a super-size replica of the Cricket World Cup.

Incidentally, last week there was a report in the newspaper about a Mumbai building collapsing, killing 4 people. I read that, thought 'how terrible, but at least it's front page news', and then read on to see that it was the 34th such collapse in 2 years. In the one city. Scary.

Hooray, Hooray, It's a happy Holi day

Saturday was to be a quiet day. I'd had a long week and was quite tired, so didn't particularly want anything too busy. Also, Ziima wanted to come over and see the photos so I needed to spend some time sorting out the ones I liked and processing them. I managed to finish them a little before she arrived (click here to see the photos).

She arrived pretty much on time and called up to the room. I went down and found that she'd brought a boyfriend with her. I was less than comfortable with both of them coming up to the room (even with most stuff in the safe), so suggested that we go through the photos in the lounge.

In the end I needn't have worried - they were both very pleasant and he was very helpful with getting her to choose the photos she wanted. In fact it went so well that I had to remind her to take the balance of the money. She thanked me very much and said that I'd been very generous (a sure sign that I'd significantly overpaid, but again, my stupidity, my fault).

Later in the afternoon I went out to investigate Holi. This is a festival that celebrates the start of the summer season and is timed with the full moon. It seems to start the evening before the full moon and then goes on through the following day. Saturday evening was the start and I went around the local area (with camera, of course). One group of lads invited me in to the residential area to show me the bonfires being set up.

The people had already started getting coloured up, and I had various colours put on my face. You can either decide to take offence at that, or in good part. You normally have a better time (and get better photos) if you join in. The group proudly took me round the area, showing me three bonfires being prepared and showing off for the camera..

Heading back to the hotel (via the coffee shop for a drink / tea) I got plenty of amused looks, which suggested that I'd been got good and proper. Back in the hotel I saw that there had been plenty of paint, but not too bad really (considering the extent I'd seen on some). A shower later and I decided against heading out to see the bonfires themselves.

The following morning I got up reasonably early for a 9am breakfast. I had arranged with one of my client colleagues that we would meet then and then head off to Juhu beach. This is one of the main areas for celebrations. We got there about 10:30 (leisurely breakfast, and a bit of a problem finding a taxi driver, although the drive to the north of the city was easy and he didn't get lost once).

Walking along the beach there were hundreds of people around, many in family groups as well as groups of young men and women. Most of them were covered in paint, and many had handfuls of the stuff to spread liberally on anybody around (us, for example). Getting photographs was easy - many people actively asked me to take photos, and those who didn't were generally more than happy to have their pictures taken.

Juhu beach is quite a pleasant, sandy beach. I'm not at all sure I'd want to go into the water, though. It got ridiculously warm, though and by 12:30 we were looking to head back to the hotel. By that time we were both liberally covered in paint - fortunately we were both in the cheap t-shirts we'd bought on Friday evening so it wasn't too bad.

A shower at the hotel got rid of the worst of the paint (but not all of it - there's probably going to be bits of it around for a few more days yet. The rest of the afternoon was lazy, with a brief trip out around 8 p.m. for a quick bite.

March 14th - 18th Working Week

Another week of long hours at work, as User Acceptance Testing reaches its end. This despite the fact that I was having my first major stomach upset of the trip which made the first couple of days of the week significantly less than fun.

I had arranged with Ziima that we would meet at the hotel at 8pm sharp for me to pay her the balance. This was made complex by the fact that the cash machine would only allow me to take out 20,000 rupees so, when she turned up at 10 I couldn't pay her everything she was expecting. However, she also wanted to meet up at some point so that she could get some copies of the photos for herself and we agreed that the final balance would be paid then.

I had been concerned that she would change our arrangement, but she did send e-mails confirming that the total amount to pay had changed, and confirming the amounts that had been paid.

During the week we found out that coming up at the weekend was the festival Holi. This seems to involve people pelting each other with water and coloured dust. After work on Friday, therefore, we went to the shopping centre and got t-shirts that we knew we wouldn't mind about if they got horribly covered. Getting home I also managed to arrange with Ziima that we would meet up on the Saturday to pay the balance and go through her pictures.

March 13th - Model Shoot

Ziima and I had arranged that she would come to the hotel for about 10:30 so that (after makeup) we could start shooting around 12. Punctuality isn't a particularly Indian virtue (or indeed much of a possibility given the traffic) so it wasn't a huge shock when they arrived a little late. There were three girls - Ziima herself, a friend who was meant to help her (and who actually seemed to be giving her directions on how to model) and a make up artist. Whilst I wasn't unduly concerned about this, I was pleased that I had made sure I'd put all my valuables in the safe as a precaution.

We managed to get through 3 changes of clothing at the hotel - all different Indian outfits. We started with a sari, where we took photos in the room and the hallway by the lifts. For our second outfit we went outside to the little courtyard in the hotel for some more casual shots. The third and final one was a gorgeous bridal outfit. For that we started in the bedroom and then moved to a stairwell near the breakfast room to get some full length shots.

Whilst having a make up artist definitely improves the look of the model, my goodness it slows things down a lot. We had hoped to get through 4 outfits in the hotel but had run out of time after 3. Then it was time to head off to Ziima's apartment for the second part of the shoot.

We went in the MUA's car, and got just as lost as the taxi driver had the day before. We also managed to prove that there are rules covering road usage when we got pulled over by a policeman and had to pay a fine. In all honesty, I'm not sure what she'd done that was notably different from anybody else but she ended up 100 rupees the poorer.

At the apartment we had already decided that we would do western fashion type clothing and that only one set of makeup would be required. We managed another 3 sets here (and also had time to have a takeaway delivered and eaten while the makeup was done). The first was a red dress, which arguably gave me the most effective shots of the day. The second was a black trouser suit and the third a purple dress. Unfortunately by the third set it had got dark and I was relying on flash and manual focus as it was too dark for the autofocus to work.

I then paid the make up artist the 3,500 rupees that I had agreed upon. It was then that things went wrong, when I paid Ziima the 6,000 rupees (approx £80) that I thought we had agreed upon. She said that we'd agreed 60,000 rupees. Oh bugger. I didn't have the money, and no way with me to get the money. I also couldn't afford the full price she was looking for and said so. Under the circumstances she was pretty reasonable and we agreed on 30,000 rupees that she would come to the hotel on the Monday to pick up. She could have been a lot more awkward. That said, I suspect that the 6,000 rupees was a more than reasonable rate for her. Whilst she was certainly pretty, she didn't seem to have the experience that might have been expected as she was constantly looking for advice and suggestions from her friend.

March 12th - lazy(ish) day

Ziima and I had arranged to meet up at her location in Andheri at 4:30 pm (about an hour away), so I decided to have a quiet day until heading up there. After a little time in the room, however, I got bored to decide to go out and have a look at the street markets which are nearby. (Click on the header for photos).

Again, it's the people who are fascinating, with families and couples who are entirely comfortable sitting on the streets. One thing I am finding is that people are generally more than happy to have their photos taken, if you ask nicely. Indeed, some specifically ask to have their photos taken if they see that you are doing so with others. Fortunately, this allows you to get closer and get better photos as a result. That said, I can't yet bring myself to take close up photos of the poorest members of the community as it feels too much of an intrusion. Whilst I sincerely hope that I never get to accept the way that these people live and stop finding it shocking, I hope that at some point I manage to get the courage to ask and get some proper portraits of the street people.

About 3:30 I took the taxi to Andheri (Ziima said it was about an hour). It is, in fact, somewhat less than that, if the taxi driver knows where he is going (as proved by the taxi driver on the way back), but most taxi drivers only know their local area. Also, whilst many people here do speak English, taxi drivers really don't. Nor do they read English, which made the fact that I had the adddress written down less useful than it might have been. Several times we stopped and asked for directions, a process which appears to be iterative - take thee directions which will probably get you a bit closer and then ask again. It felt like we were spiralling in on the location.

One other thing about taxi trips to the North - drivers seem to be very keen to take you as far as Bandraa and then unload you on a rickshaw driver. I only managed to understand that after a few discussions that were probably equally frustrating for both the driver and myself, and we ended up with him taking me the whole way himself. Or at least to the road that I waas meant to be on, and then dumping me and charging a fair chunk (for Mumbai - 500 rupees after looking puppy dog and giving the impression that he needed extra to cover the trip back again).

Eventually I managed to meet up with Ziima (how did we manage before mobile phones?), about a half hour late. She took me up to the flat, which had a huge number of possible outfits, from formal to casual (including a bridal style outfit which is gorgeous). The terrace is in fact on the roof of the building that she lives in - run down (obviously) but a good number of possibilities for shooting.

She suggested that we start at the hotel on Sunday, doing the more formal stuff, and then going back to the terrace for the more casual stuff. She also said that it would be better to have a make up artist for the formal stuff at least, and that she had prepared one for 2-3,000 rupees for the day. That's not a hideous price all in all (about £40), and if I'm getting a full day's shoot with Ziima for 6,000 rupees rather than the half day I had been expecting then that's still very good value.

Ziima then took me to get a taxi back to the hotel, rejecting the first as he wanted a fixed price rather than on the meter. The second agreed to the meter and got me home in about 45 minutes, charging 250 rupees (which I upped to 300 - £4).

In the evening I went out for a meal at one of the small restaurants near the hotel. The local coffee shop was showing the India - South Africa match, and there was quite a crowd outside watching through the window.

I decided to pretty much repeat my walk from earlier in the day to get pictures of it under artificial light (photos here). Again, this was fun and people were always happy to talk. One gentleman owned a grain shop (we'll call it - lock up may be more appropriate) and was happy to talk about the fact that he had 21 different types of rice and supplied the hotel.

By 9pm thing were beginning to quieten down on the street and I walked back to the hotel. I was attracted by the noise of fireworks nearby and went to investigate. It turned out that there was a wedding celebration going on. Obviously, in India this is done by setting off fireworks in the middle of a road, whilst cars, trucks and buses go past. How else would you do it?

Working week

Another busy week at work, with not much happening outside. On Wednesday I managed to meet up with Ziima Barbora, a model I'm shooting with today (Sunday). This involved going straight from work to a coffee shop in Bandra. Both of us were late, which is perhaps inevitable given the way the traffic is. It also struck me that there is no hesitation in Mumbai to travel for an hour for a brief meeting. The meeting itself went well, she is a lovely girl who wanted to meet up to discuss what we wanted to do for the shoot. We agreed to meet again on Saturday at a place which has a roof terrace that might make a decent location. She also asked if I wanted a make up artist. My initial thought was that I prefer a more natural look, especially in a casual setting. She was also going to get some clothing from her sister's for us to look at on Saturday. After the meeting we shared a taxi as we were both going in the same general direction - me to the hotel in Lower Parel and her to Worli. I mentioned that I had been at the Four Seasons hotel in Worli and she said she was going to her sister's opposite there. Opposite the hotel, of course, is the slums. The taxi dropped me off first (which seemed wrong even to my limited knowledge of the Mumbai geography), and she wouldn't take any money towards the taxi. She also mentioned that we could perhaps do a 1/2 day at the location and the other 1/2 day at the hotel.

On Friday evening a colleague and I went to the Comedy Store in Mumbai, a franchise of the one in London. There were 2 UK comics and a Canadian (based in London). They were all pretty good, although it is remarkable how little time it takes before the amount of swearing used by the British in general conversation becomes quite shocking again. One nice line from one of the comics was that whereas the British approach to driving looked like it should work but really didn't very well, the approach in Mumbai looked like it was chaos and couldn't work but actually did.

Sunday March 6th - Lazy Day

Following the day at Matheran, I needed some time to relax. A lie in on Sunday morning and a leisurely breakfast was followed by a day mostly in front of the computer, catching up with the blog and photos, and watching the England v S Africa cricket match.

A brief snack lunch at the local coffee bar was followed by wandering round the hotel taking photos (click on the heading of the blog to see), then back to the room to upload them and continue with relaxation / catch ups / cricket. The cricket did end up taking more and more of my time as yet another thrilling match involving England came out of the World Cup. At least this time, somehow, England managed to pull off the win despite not having looked likely to achieve it at pretty much any point in the match.

March 5th - Day Trip to Matheran Part 2

We'd been warned before going that there was lots of red mud. Maybe mud translates differently, or the person had only been in the rainy season. Red, certainly, but dust rather than mud. Lots of dust. I've mentioned before that there are no motor vehicles allowed in Matheran, which means that there's plenty of horses and carts, and no paved roads. Which means dust.

As we walked to the central area, the marketplace, we were often asked if we wanted to go on a horse, but we were happy to walk. According to the signposts from the entrance, it is about 2.5km to the market area. There were lots of hotels and restaurants in the market area, not surprisingly as apparently this is a regular weekend getaway for the Mumbai residents. There were also quite a lot of shoe sellers with their wares laid out on the floor, reflecting the fact that this was originally a cobbler's community.

We stopped for a drink of water in a little park just off the main road. There was a photographer at the entrance who took a look at my camera and left us alone. Presumably he was looking to see if there was anybody who wanted their photo taking. Unfortunately, almost everybody here has a mobile phone and seem happy to take their own photos with that.

We had tried to get tickets for the train trip back down the hill (the station is at the market area). Unfortunately the only choices for buying a ticket in advance are either to buy it a day early or 45 minutes before departure. As a result we decided to walk around, and perhaps get back in time for the last train.

To be honest, it was all a bit less green than either of us had imagined from what we'd been told. There certainly were plenty of trees around, but nothing that could be described as jungle in the traditional sense that we think of from Jungle Book.

The area is up in the hills, with occasional places where you can look out. Some of these are really very attractive, but the haze did reduce the spectacle somewhat. We walked round to the beginning of Lake Charlotte, which is essentially just a dam and didn't seem hugely impressive, although I believe we may have missed most of it.

Much of the rest of the afternoon was spent walking around the various pathways. I wouldn't say we were lost, exactly, but only because the area is relatively self-contained and if you just keep walking along the pathways you are bound to get to somewhere recognisable eventually. Unfortunately, whilst there are quite a few places which look like they were once used for advertising and directions, once you get off the main beaten paths very few of them are actually used.

One thing that we did come across regularly while we were wandering around was run down and apparently abandoned old houses that had presumably been built up there for homes or hotels. Some of these had notices outside saying that nobody had been given any authority to sell them, which suggests that there may (at least once upon a time) have been some fraudsters operating in the area.

It was also very hot, and I was starting to get quite tired and needing to sit down regularly (especially after uphill travel). Fortunately we reached an area we recognised and were able to make our way back towards the market area. However, by this time we had missed the time that we would be likely to be able to get tickets for the last train down so we decided to walk to the entrance again for a taxi down.

I had hoped that we would be able to at least see the train (and get some photos for the train fanatics at the camera club) and sat down and waited for a while. Whilst the train didn't come I was able to get some photos of people and monkeys. Eventually we gave up and started down the road again. Obviously, at a point that we were unable to see the railway tracks we heard the train pass (although actually on it's way up the hill rather than down, so presumably it was running very late).

As we were walking down we saw one of the impacts of there being no motor vehicles in the area - large numbers of ponies laden high with everything that was needed by the shops, hotels and restaurants in the market area.

The taxi down was no less eventful than the one up. It wasn't clear that the car even had an engine for most of the trip down, although the brakes certainly worked fine. When we got to the bottom it turned out that there were even more people in it than I had thought. As well as my colleague and I in the front (my colleague straddling the gearstick) and four on the back seat two further people unfolded themselves from the boot when we got out.

The train trip home was somewhat easier than there - one train all the way, a semi-fast one, but an hour's wait for it to arrive. My colleague was getting a bit antsy about how much later than the scheduled departure time it was; I was a little more concerned that there seemed to be people sitting on the edge of the platform with their legs dangling over the tracks. I assumed this meant that the train wasn't imminent.

Eventually we got back to Mumbai. We stopped to eat at a restaurant nearby, which was very nice and ridiculously cheap, and also had a loo (which was handy for both of us as there hadn't been any obvious facilities in Matheran itself).

A taxi back to the hotel showed that there are lots of buildings that are covered in what we would call in the UK fairy lights. Some buildings, indeed look so brightly lit that it must be difficult to sleep inside the apartments.

March 5th - Day trip to Matheran Part 1

A German colleague and I had decided to go to Matheran for a day trip. The idea was to go by train as part of the adventure. There is a mainline train to the station of Neral from the main CST station (also known as Vicky), and then a narrow gauge train from there to Matheran.

Matheran itself is a place where many locals go for the day. It's in the hills, and vehicles aren't allowed there. There's lots of walking, horses and monkeys, however.

We left the hotel at 8am (about the same time we would normally leave for work), along with some packed up pastries from the hotel breakfast bar) to get a taxi to the station. There was then a degree of bartering with the taxi driver to get a fair price. We ended up paying 100 rupees, notably less than the 200 that he'd originally asked for, but also somewhat more than the 50 that my colleague thought was fair. (Note - approx. 70 rupees to the pound).

Getting to the station we queued to get the mainline tickets. First class seemed the only sensible way to go (frankly, I'm prepared to rough it but you'd have to be beyond cheap as a westerner to decide to save your money and travel second class). We got the tickets to Nerul and then tried to find the platform. We were directed to the right train and took our seats.

First class travel on Indian trains is not as good as first class on UK trains. First class travel on Indian trains is not as good as second class travel on UK trains. It's hard to compare Indian trains with anything on the UK network. The seats are hard and uncomfortable, there are lots of hanging hand grips (presumably for busy periods, which Saturday morning at 8:30 wasn't), there are fans attached (mostly) to the ceiling, and there are signs all over one end warning you of the danger of being electrocuted by what's behind the panels. Also (which is something of a boon to the photographer), the doors don't close.

Most trains don't just have first and second class carriages. There are also women only carriages (which feels a bit odd), and also carriages for 'handicapped and cancer patients'. Whether the latter, in particular, is a sign of compassion to ensure that the sick aren't pestered, or is in fact just a way of keeping them away from the healthy majority is an interesting question. My colleague pointed out that one of the tenets of reincarnation is that you get in your next life what you deserve from this (with the corollary that if you are sick in this life then you brought it upon yourself in your previous one). This is not a philosophy that necessarily encourages huge amounts of compassion. As Glenn Hoddle is only too aware, it's also not a philosophy that a public figure in the UK could espouse.

We started talking to a guy on the train who said that Nerul was about an hour away. At that point little alarm bells started going off in my head as I was sure the guidebook had suggested it was 2 hours away. It was then that I began to appreciate that one vowel in a place name can be really quite important. We were on the wrong train (strictly, we were on the right train for our tickets, but had the wrong tickets). Fortunately, my guidebook had a train route map in the back so I was able to work out that we were still heading in roughly the right direction, but that we should change to a cross line shortly.

We got off and now needed to get tickets to the right place. Fighting our way to the ticket hall we saw a sign that said that there was no queue for first class tickets. Expecting that this meant that there was a separate queue my colleague left me in the queue to go and look for the right one. After a while he returned to say that it looked as though what it meant was that you didn't need to queue for first class tickets - you just went straight to the front of the queue to get them. This felt odd, and I decided to let him do that part. He succeeded, but I don't think he was very popular with everybody else in the queue.

It is, perhaps, true to say that you never see the best of a city from the train. Mumbai is no exception to this rule, with the train going through slums and other very poor areas. One thing that is a bit different to western railways is that the lines themselves are no barrier to people. People cross the lines, walk along them and even work on them with an apparent reckless disregard for the huge metal things that thunder along the lines.

What all this is good for, of course, is candid photography, both in the stations and along the route. The downside, of course, when the train is moving is that you don't often have enough time to react from seeing what will make a good picture to actually be able to take the damn thing. I managed to get a few nice ones, though. (Click on the title for pics from the day.)

Another change of trains brought us to Neral a bit before 12. The small trains up to Matheran were booked up until 3pm, so we took a shared taxi (60 rupees each). This was an experience that was really quite scary - lots of tight hairpin bends, taken at reasonable high speed in a fairly decrepit van while overtaking anything that we approached, regardless of what was coming in the opposite direction. Given the steepness, you could see why the train takes a couple of hours to get up to Matheran, in long slow loops. The car does the trip a lot faster. It was a matter of minutes before we arrived at the entrance to Matheran.

Working week (again)

Busy week at work, with late nights every night, until 9pm on a couple of occasions. As a result, there hasn't been much time for anything but work. I've eaten at the hotel most nights, either in my room or in the restaurant. I have been very impressed by the food at the hotel - it's no great surprise that they've won awards for the quality.

One of the downsides of the new hotel is that we're somewhat further from work - a 10 - 15 min. cab journey in the morning and a 30 min. journey back thanks to the traffic. What the trip has shown me, however, is that the people who lived in wooden shacks across from the Four Seasons weren't necessarily at the bottom of the pile. The trip to work takes us through areas where the people live under cloth / canvas and would probably see the shacks as a notable step upwards.

Sunday 27th - Bandra

Up reasonably early on Sunday to get a taxi to Bandra. This is one of the suburbs of Mumbai which was originally a series of villages inhabited by the Portuguese. According to the map at the hotel it has the largest number of Catholic churches anywhere in the world (although I don't know what the basis for that is). For the photos, click on the title.

I took a taxi from outside the hotel. He clearly didn't know where in Bandra I wanted to go (I thought I said the Taj Lands End fairly clearly, but he either didn't know where I meant or didn't hear me properly). He dropped me by an area of little 3-wheeler taxis, and one of those took me the rest of the way.

Bandra is called one of the chic-est suburbs of Mumbai, and yet down by the sea there are still definitely slums. On the coast itself there were groups of people doing their washing in the sea.

After walking along the Bandstand promenade (named, presumably after the rather decrepit bandstand at the bottom end of the promenade) I reached St Andrews Church, a pretty church with a reasonably large graveyard area. The names on the graves showed the Portuguese ancestry quite clearly - lots of Fernandes, D'Sousa, Pereira etc. There were walls covered with plaques commemorating lives. The graves themselves often had painted wooden crosses rather than the gravestones more familiar from a British graveyard. Garlands of flowers frequently decorated both the plaques and the crosses. Also in the graveyard was a painted life-size statue of Jesus.

From St Andrews I cut backwards on myself to head towards Mount Mary Church. This took me past St Stephens Church (I mentioned the large number of churches, right?). This had an odd sign outside, saying 'The Soul could have no rainbow if the eyes had no tears'. I'm not sure that this is a philosophy that I would feel entirely comfortable with myself.

Moving on up the hill from St Andrews I reached Mount Mary. Essentially there are two parts to this. The church itself is on one side of the roadwhile opposite is a structure that is essentially a shrine at the top of stairs built on either side as part of the arc of a circle. At the shrine people would come and burn candles and hang garlands. Between the two parts are a number of little stalls selling the candles to burn. Apparently different candles are burnt depending upon the particular thing being asked for - a leg if the leg hurts, for example, or a full body figure if asking for a baby. (Did anybody say voodoo?)

Also around the area are a large number of beggars, many of them children. It is really difficult not to give money, and I did to one particular little boy in return for a photo (this one). I also gave some money to a group of children that surrounded me as I was on my way back down the hill but they were less keen on having their pictures taken. In neither case did I give much money (small numbers of pennies, in each case) but the sheer amount of poverty is a bit distressing.

Heading back down the hill to the middle of town I followed the suggestion of the map to go up Turner Road and then down Linking Road. I have mentioned before that road signs aren't always in English which can be confusing. In reality, it's often worse than that - roads often have multiple names, which means that the road signs will often show the 'wrong' name - i.e. not the name that you were expecting. However, I managed to find my way.

Linking Road is, in essence, a big expensive shopping road. Visiting on a Sunday meant that several of these were closed - not entirely a bad thing. The road itself was very busy with cars. There's no escaping hawkers anywhere, however. A guy started chatting to me, and got round to saying that he was selling maps but that was only to earn money temporarily - his real job was as a shoeshine, but he didn't have the money for the kit. When I said I didn't want a map he moved on to suggesting that I give him the money for the kit directly - only $20. I wished him luck and moved on.

I turned off Linking Road to head down towards the top end of the promenade. This took me past another slum - quite possibly the slum that has burnt this weekend taking away the home of the Slumdog Millionaire actress. Given how tightly packed the buildings are in the area, and also how dry it all is, it's easy to believe that once a fire gets started there it would spread very rapidly. It would also probably be very difficult to get fire crews in to stop any fire.

When you get to the coast it isn't initially much better. The shacks along the coast road are two storey things, with ladders for the residents of the top floor. The rocky beach itself is again used for washing (and scavenging, by the look of it), but the wide promenade is well looked after and has sculptures and other art along the route.

One of the larger pieces of sculpture had around it lots of pieces of clothing laid out, by colour. I can only imagine this is some sort of dying process in operation, but have no confirmation of that.

By this time I was getting quite hot, and had drunk all of my water. When I sat down in one of the relatively few shady areas there was already an Indian couple there. They generously offered me some of their water, but since the bottle was already only half full (and looked like it had been refilled) I thanked them but refused. I can't help feeling that this must have appeared somewhat rude to a couple who were clearly being very generous and kind.

I walked along the promenade, and was very relieved to see that there was a little cafe at the end. I had a couple of Diet Cokes there, along with a bit of lunch.

One thing I hadn't seen during my walk to this point was the local Portuguese-influenced housing that the area is particularly known for. I suspect that I had essentially walked all around the outside of the area, but hardly any of the central part. I very slightly rectified this as I walked back to Turner Road, and went past several buildings which were very pretty, if a little on the run down side (as the frequent refrain goes).

It was at this point that I realised that I hadn't fully learnt one of the earliest lessons - taxi drivers don't necessarily have a detailed knowledge of the city. It came to me that I didn't actually know the address of the new hotel, and a quick check showed that I didn't have anything with the address on. Fortunately, I needn't have worried (another benefit of being at a tourist hotel rather than a business one, I suspect) as the first taxi driver I asked was able to bring me right home.

The rest of the day was spent with the photos and blog, along with watching the quite remarkable World Cup cricket match India vs England while having room service. This was a thrilling game that seesawed from India having very much the upper hand to England looking like they should win it at a canter, back to India looking very much the favourites. Finally, it came down to the very last ball, with all 3 possible outcomes very available - 1 run to draw, 2 to win for England, no run an Indian victory. One run from it meant that a draw was the final result - the fair one, all in all, but a magnificent advert for the game. It comes as no surprise that it was the most watched match of the World Cup so far.

Saturday 26th - Change of Hotel

Saturday morning came and we needed to change hotels. The driver that I thought had arranged to meet me at 10 at the Four Seasons didn't turn up, so I just got an ordinary cab. My expectation was that, arriving so early, I would have to leave my luggage and come back later to check in properly, but I was checked in and taken straight up to my room.

A bit disappointed that my room was just the standard room (which is significantly smaller than the room at the Four Seasons (bedroom area is marginally larger than the bathroom at the previous hotel, bathroom is marginally larger than the old walk in wardrobe, and there is no walk in wardrobe). However, in pretty much all other respects the new hotel is a nicer one than the other one. This is much more of a tourist hotel than a business hotel and, to be honest, is all the better for that. The staff seem marginally friendlier, the hotel is a much more sumptuous affair (colonial style, with marble and lots of light) and the food is even better and with a wider choice. Even though I say the rooms are poorer at the new hotel, I would note that there are a few things even here which are improved - there is a wider choice of TV channels (although most of the new ones are in Hindi) and the ability to have the TV sound play in the bathroom. Interestingly, there's also an automated muting of the TV when you're on the phone, which is quite neat.

After settling in a bit and unpacking I decided to go for a walk around the area to get some level of familiarisation. Click on the title of the blog to see the pictures on Flickr.

The area remains a contrast to the hotel, although there isn't a slum directly opposite. There is a hospital really very close by which, as ever, has seen better days, and is something of an encouragement to stay healthy while I'm out here. There are a lot of orange flags about, which I'm told is a political thing, but I'm not aware of the reason.

There's also a lot of street stalls. One type of stall I've not discussed before is the phone ones, where there are pay phones as part of the various other things being sold.

Possibly a sign that I'm getting a little more confident here is that I've felt able to take photos of some of the street sellers, getting down to their level to get nice shots. Normally, if you ask, people are pretty happy to have their photo taken; if they're not then just walk away. For one, of a shoeshine man, I did make use of him to get my boots smartened up a bit.

One thing I saw was the entrance to the workshop for the Central Railway locomotives. Unfortunately (for my various friends who are interested in trains) I couldn't actually see any of the trains.

One thing I did see while wandering around was a couple of guys starting to dig a hole in the road with pickaxes. Nothing too surprising in that, perhaps, but there was nothing to protect them, no fencing or anything. Cars and motor bikes went by within inches of the workers.

Another thing I noticed for the first time while wandering around was the use of the swastika on flags and the like. That came as something of a shock, although I was aware that it had been a much older symbol that had been appropriated but to western eyes it is impossible to see it without connotations.

Coming back to the hotel through what we will call a market area but is closer to being people setting up areas on the pavement between the rubbish, I spent the rest of the day and evening catching up with the photos and blog.

During the week

Again, the working week isn't the point of the blog so I'm not going to say too much about work (and there isn't much outside work as we often work til 8pm or beyond).

Suffice to say that the colleague that I came in to replace returned to Australia. As a result I tried (with some success) to bring in the leaving time (to 6:30 pm), at least for Thursday and Friday.

Eating was mostly at the hotel, with occasional trips to restaurants outside. One of these was at the racecourse, an Italian restaurant that was very nice. The next evening we went to a local wine bar. From the look on the faces of the guys I went with, not drinking was probably the smart move.

We got confirmation on Wednesday that we would be moving hotels on the Saturday. I realised that if I was going to walk in to work one morning with my camera then that would need to be on Thursday or Friday. I spent the Thursday taxi trip confirming that I knew the route and looking to see if there were particular things I wanted to capture, and then walked in on the Friday.

It's not a long walk, but the contrast from the top class hotel is immediate. Directly across the road is the slum, and walking along the road you see the shacks that have been set up there (built is far too strong a word for them). It's worth noting that they do have numbers painted on may of them, and several have satellite dishes on them. It's also notable that several have very nice cars parked in front of them. I'm not saying that the residents own the cars, but the contrast is again quite striking.

Another thing that you notice is the number of small shrines that there are around the place on the streets. Some of these are small and seemingly home made, but most are 5 - 7 feet tall, made of stone and well tended.

There's also lots of shops and stalls, most of which are closed at 8am when I was walking around. Flower stalls are very popular, with many places selling garlands. It's also not unusual to see people getting shaves on the pavement.

Lots of the stalls are basically lockups, with shutters when closed. The shutters have often got advertising on them, and the mobile phone companies seem to have the market pretty much sewn up.

Even where there are proper buildings, they often look derelict, with little glass if any in the windows and rubble and rubbish on the ground around them. Sometimes the apparently derelict buildings will have paintings on them with their own garlands. Modern buildings are often directly next to, or across the road from, the derelict ones.

There's a patch of land that, for the sake of argument, we'll call a park. Here's where people go for a walk and, even at 8 a.m., there's a cricket match going on.