MUMBAI (BOMBAY)

Few would recognise this megacity on the Arabian Sea as the holiday destination of choice, but with the promise of an air-con 4w RH drive and driver at our disposal and family members now resident in a smart part of town it seemed the natural choice to start our journey through this amazing land.

As the flight approaches the airport the arid landscape gives way to a more urban environment and we see the towering apartment blocks beyond Powai Hill, the lake and Sanjay Gandhi National Park in the background; home for a while before heading south. Its then that you see the contrast below, a carpet of squalid slums that litter the ground as you pass over the Kalina Road before touchdown.

You don’t feel a great deal better on entering the austere terminal building bereft of facilities and with very strange complex security arrangements.

We’re soon out in the hot and bustling streets which for Jen and I proved to be an endless source of interest and amusement. The number of people on the streets is mind boggling and the driving style and conditions you’d imagine would cause an accident every few seconds. Pedestrians, dogs, and cattle wander through a mix of traffic that is tooting ceaselessly like pre De Gaulle Paris. The difference here is that the horn is used properly as an audible signal of approach not aggression, and it works. Raju, our driver would always aim for the gap ahead overtaking on the inside or outside tooting pedestrians or vehicles alike to tell them we’re close behind and depending on the size or threat would seize the advantage and pass through the narrowest opening or give way. This resigned approach and modest pace gives time to change course or stop amazingly quickly. A determined pedestrian with a hand gesturing to stop will have an immediate effect. At first this driving up to the point of near contact is hardly relaxing and your cheeks pinch occasionally, but you tend eventually to realise it all works. It’s unlikely the average UK or European driver could cope with the driving style without suffering a serious case of road rage. Our prescribed driving would leave us at a loss, there are few road signs and those that exist are lost in a sea of advertising. In a city of 17million you travel miles without traffic lights, there are no road markings but frequently a concrete block serves as a road cone. If there’s a copper on duty at a junction everyone gives up bar the street vendors, beggars or the odd ‘shim’.

Another secret of navigating in these conditions is the hard shoulder that often borders the highway, affording, depending on availability, an escape route to avoid a vehicle collision. But there may be a cow tethered or some pedestrians using the space or you could end up in Dr Bin-Dunes Piles Clinic where all sorts of excruciating anal horrors are dealt with.

Few if any women drive in this apparent chaos, though they bravely ride pillion side saddle without any protection in elegant and colourful sari’s. The motorbikes are specially adapted air cooled small capacity machines, with a foot plate and guard grill on the near side, a grab handle on the off side and heat shield over the exhaust to prevent the lady scorching her clothing.You can buy one of these bikes new for 450 GBP and they are advertised on TV. The LML CRD100 has a slick ad extolling its adjustable rear suspension and ‘style which is all you desire’.There are however no Royal Enfields on sale in the city and renting any machine is a big no-no.

You cannot leave the street scene without mentioning the ubiquitous Auto-Rickshaw or ‘took-took’ as Raju calls them - probably because it’s the sound they make; “tooktook’s very dangerous Sa” he says. These endearing little three wheel yellow and black taxis are cheap alternative space saving transport for the masses and ride like an upholstered roller-skate. Licensed to carry three but often with six passengers they are fun to ride in at a minimum charge of Rs10 (8p).

The poor little 150cc LPG fuelled motor won’t pull the skin off a rice pudding and the whole thing nearly stalls if faced with an incline. The steering is a bike style handlebar but no handbrake; throttle only on RH side. They turn on a sixpence and with footbrake can stop on one, if not too loaded; one couple put the TV they’d bought in one ‘took-took’ and followed in another. The starter is a long lever on the floor beside the driver which is hoisted, hand brake style; worked first time when I tried it! The most awkward aspect of driving it seems is the combined clutch/gear change which is twisted simultaneously on the LH bar thru 90 degrees for low gear. Doing that for an eight hour shift I’d be shattered.

More about how the other half live in the next issue, with the Ed’s say so of course! Howard King