I had anticipated a much bigger shock at first. Of course I became quite stranded on the airport at first, not sure whether Carolin would be there or if should make my own way, which was probably the idea if only my cellphone hadn't decided to not function in India. After an accidental phonecall to Sweden via payphone, pondering whether I shouldn't just check into a hotell and find a sim-card the next day I managed to get a hold of Carolin. During my 4 hours of waiting a young indian girl held me company, telling me I had looked sad. (STRESSED more like). She can't have been older than 16 and proudly told me that she was about to get married. Her entire family came to sit with me, asking me questions as to where I was from and if I was married or not.
I finally got into a prepaid taxi to Coloba, hotel Moti. The cabride was amazing. Actually amazing is maybe not the right word. The driver stopped randomly a few times to ask for directions at which I was left alone in the car at which point several child beggars approached my open window, asking me for chocolate or other treats, and if I had had any I would have given it to them, but I didn't even have anything to fill my own rumbling stomach, or anything less than 1000 rupees in my pocket. Sigh.
The driver brought me all the way to the hotel in the red, gleaming, pollution sunset. And that's where I am now after a day of eating out, shopping for various must-haves-in-India and looking at random buildings. I look forward to Tamil Nadu on Sunday, although Mumbai has been enjoyable in it's own hectic, loud way so far. Hurray for FabIndia and my three sets of Indian clothing
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