skip to main |
skip to sidebar
In the latest embarrassment for Melbourne's Connex suburban train service, up to 15 people rode in the driver's cabin of a train rather than cram into its packed carriages. Maybe its time to take a deep breath and remember the millions of commuters around the world struggling to move around their city.
First Class local travel on the Mumbai train network is the way we get around when we know we have to get somewhere on time. Driving is ridiculous as the roads are in poor condition and are extremely congested. The local joke about the roads is that there is a road digging crew and a road fixing crew and the road fixing crew are about 5 months behind, so it is left until they are ready... Things happen slowly here.
So what is First Class?? 
First class is a ticket which costs about 5 times that of a of Second and Third Class tciket, making it affordable for the middle class business types of the city who get to enjoy the plush surrounds.
The air conditioning is a mixture of ceiling fans and open windows and doors. None of that time consuming "doors closing, please stand clear" no doors, no problem! no "Mind the gap" or "behind the line is fine" either as time is of the essence with commiters very skilled at jumping on and off a moving train through a crowd of people.
The seats are a step up from the wooden slats of Second Class, although it is still frowned upon when feet are placed on the seats... when you can get a seat.
We were lucky this day, on the way home around 6pm from the city the train was empty for much of the journey, unlike the trip to the city 5 hours earlier.
Jo and I stood on Platform 4, Vile Parle Station, at the red and yellow markings on the platform signifying First Class carriages, scanning for the corresponding painted markings on the carriages. As they came to a halt we could see every carriage was bursting, men hanging out of the doors to get some air. So we split up in the hope of some space. Jo headed for the Ladies carriage, (there is one per train), and I pushed my way onto my First Class luxury and went about making some personal space for myself with my book and bag.
It was the First Class carriages on the Western Line which were targeted in the terrorist bomb blasts of July 11, 2006 which killed over 170 people in seven blasts. Our journey from Vile Parle to Churchgate takes us through the blast sites where the only reminder is that of posters, the same the world over, warning to be mindful of abandoned bags. Unfortunately the train is the only way to go in this city as you never know when traffic will strike and more hours of your life will be spent inching forard, breathing the exhaust of the car, bus and rickshaw surrounding you. The great thing is that the trains are inexpensive and if one is pulling out of the station as you arrive, you need only wait 2 to 5 minutes for the next one...
January 26, 2007 and Australian friends and family are spread around the world.
This year instead of back yard cricket and a BBQ and beers on the deck of a Queenslander with friends we celebrated Australia Day in Juhu but made sure all the Australian traditions were upheld.
As fate would have it, India has Republic Day on the 26th of January also, so before we celebrated our national day we celebrated theirs'. We were invited to party with our landlords in their the 5 story house, just up the road. 
We're getting used to the Indian way of entertaining, we arrived at 11.30pm with Jo, Cris & Nadine our new friends from Australia working with Leightons Asia, and the party was just getting started. The DJ was working the decks, the barmen were busy and the chefs were preparing vegetarian delights for a 2am meal.. Yup this is India, 2am dinner is a little late but this is how they do it. We had a great time and were one of the last to leave at 4am. In India when the food is over that is the signal for the party to shut down.
The sun rose on Australia Day and feeling a little worse for wear we prepared for the days events by connecting to the Triple J hottest 100 for the some of the top 20 tracks. It was fantastic to hear Australian radio as there are no English radio stations here. Megan and Jason hosted the party for the day. In true Aussie fashion we headed down the beach for a kick of the footy and of course beach cricket. Jason has been here for 18months and commented that we'll cause a bit of a stir on the beach, I thought he meant that tourist police on the beach would be unhappy we were drinking on an Indian "dry day" but no he meant a group of European people on the beach will gather a crowd. It didn't take long to see what he meant, the blankets went down and the men started arriving. Before long we were getting into the swing of it and we had a crowd standing at silly mid off.. The tall fella in the pic is Max, the opening batsman from Sweden. The locals were quite perplexed as to his batting style.. 
As with all beach cricket the tennis ball shat itself and we had no electrical tape so a new ball had to be sourced. This delay didn't deter the crowd, no, they paid good money for a game of cricket and they weren't leaving until we did. We made sure everyone got a bat and of course no getting out on the first or second ball. The party of the recent morning caught up with us after about 2 hours in the 34 degree Mumbai winter sun, and it was time to adjourn to Jason and Megan's for refreshments.
We were greeted into their beachside apartment with the stereo belting out Jimmy Barnes, Working Class Man, just for a bit of nostalgia..
Big thanks to them, they turned on a ripper afternoon, a few eskies of Kingfisher beer, some Australian wine, T Bones and eye fillets all the way from Australia and bangers on the BBQ. Frank from Victoria stood guard over the cooking operation whilst the cricket and Australian Open tennis battled for supremacy on the TV. Of course the best was yet to come... a pavlova, lamingtons and ice cream dessert!! Bombay Bliss!!
If you think a Westfield Mall is big then you'll be blown away by the shopping experience, no shopping adventure of the Chor Bazar, South Mumbai's "Thieves Market". Chor Bazar literally means Thieves Market in Hindi. It's a collection of assorted stores selling anything and everything under the sun. You'll find many things of value here like antiques, faux antiques, statues, lamps, paintings, leather goods and many things which seem to have no value at all in the maze of market stalls, shops, back alleys and busy streets.Our first journey through these streets was an attempt to follow a Lonely Planet walking trail heading for Mutton Street the main antiques street. Starting at the Crawford Markets we headed north and slowly headed off track as the temptation to head down an interesting looking alley was too appealing. 
This area is a mainly Muslim area with many mosques and the noise here is unreal, with merchants trying to get your attention over the merchant across the street, "Sir, sir! No buy, just look!" each yelling over the prayers and music bellowing out of each mosque.
We put the book away tossed a coin, which drew the attention of the street kids and let fate lead us into the streets. At first the streets are wide enough for cars to pass once they had parted the throng of people with a relentless blast of their horn. The streets are busy with local shoppers competing with street cricket matches, motor bikes, bicycles, goods-laden coolies screaming at you to get out their way as they struggle with a load meant for a 1 tonne ute. At each turn we seemed no closer to our target of Mutton Street walking down streets of car part, electrical switchboards, metal and grain. This is a place where people live and work and the shops are small with the street being the place for the men to work. We saw one man smashing electrical fuses to make a small pile of valuable copper and a larger pile of broken plastic, other men sit in dried oil and grease splitting open gearboxes, still more simply stand around making sure they look important. This day we kept walking north until we reached a main street and followed it back to Chowpatty Beach for a cool drink and a chance to give our senses a rest. We vowed to return...
Since our first visit to the market, we were warned by local friends that we must attend these markets with them as we stood out a little as targets.. no kidding.. We were given the tip that as a foreigner the prices will be increased by 50-75% so bargain hard. We met Terrance on the street, an Indian jack of all trades, guiding two Americans around, boasting his tour is the only real tour of Mumbai. We had just emerged from a shop which was thick with large and small statues and masks. The tiny glass shopfront was to to hide a labyrinth of cramped rooms with a narrow walking trail amongst the idols from every religion on the planet. Terrance warned us to start at 10% of the asking price and no more. With it seems little else for the merchants to do bargaining is a game here played with much spirit.
Jo and Ash had a look around on the weekend, and a few new streets were explored. I thought I'd buy a vintage lamp for us and a compass for my Dad so I ventured into a few shops more for amusement at first. The shops are dormant with lights and fans switched off until customers walk in. The shop keep is quick to see where I am looking so he can develop a pitch, "you like lamp what about this one?", "compass yes, yes, very old.." I asked if the stamp of 1942 on the compass was real.. and got a great answer, "yes, yes... no no.." It seemed everything antique thing in the shop was brand new..
We won't be going back to that store but we'll be back....
Well that's not them.... that's Ash n Markus
This is where the whole of Mumbai's laundry is washed. This municipal laundry at Mahalaxmi is where nearly 5,000 men beat the dirt out of clothes brought from all over the city. There are open-air troughs, which is used for the washing. You can have a good view from the bridge across the railway tracks of Mahalaxmi Railway station.
We catch the local train to Mahalaxmi which is about half way to town. The clothes dry mostly on the lines strung around, but should they not fit the clothes are placed on the surrounding roof which like the rest of Mumbai is covered in a thick layer of grey dust.. The going rate for a piece of washing is 6 rupee which is about 17cents AUD and the men stand in detergent soaked water all day. Like many of the jobs around Mumbai it is far from ideal but it is a job.
First Class local travel on the Mumbai train network is the way we get around when we know we have to get somewhere on time. Driving is ridiculous as the roads are in poor condition and are extremely congested. The local joke about the roads is that there is a road digging crew and a road fixing crew and the road fixing crew are about 5 months behind, so it is left until they are ready... Things happen slowly here.
First class is a ticket which costs about 5 times that of a of Second and Third Class tciket, making it affordable for the middle class business types of the city who get to enjoy the plush surrounds.
The seats are a step up from the wooden slats of Second Class, although it is still frowned upon when feet are placed on the seats... when you can get a seat.
It was the First Class carriages on the Western Line which were targeted in the terrorist bomb blasts of July 11, 2006 which killed over 170 people in seven blasts. Our journey from Vile Parle to Churchgate takes us through the blast sites where the only reminder is that of posters, the same the world over, warning to be mindful of abandoned bags. Unfortunately the train is the only way to go in this city as you never know when traffic will strike and more hours of your life will be spent inching forard, breathing the exhaust of the car, bus and rickshaw surrounding you. The great thing is that the trains are inexpensive and if one is pulling out of the station as you arrive, you need only wait 2 to 5 minutes for the next one...
