Back right before I left for Arunachal Pradesh, Arvind planted the seed for me joining him on a marketing trip for Red Chilli Adventures in Bombay (offically known as Mumbai, but no Indians call it that). In Red Chilli's 13 year history, Arvind has never worked in the office and Vipin, who spends most of his time in the office, has never spent a dime on marketing. The formula has worked out quite well, becoming one of the most reputable and busy outdoor travel companies in North India. Vipin decided he needed a break after so many years running the business, so starting around mid-2012, Arvind left forests and rivers for computers and phone calls. Doing OK at his new task, Arvind (I think) really wanted to show Vipin he isn't just an incredibly charismatic mountain guy whose only real skill is guiding great trips. So, he hatched a plan to travel to Bombay and spread the good word and hopefully meet with some travel agencies and other interested clients.
Arvind chose me to accompany him because we thoroughly enjoyed our time working together in the Red Chilli office the week Ganesh, the full-time office manager and man who really keeps Red Chilli ticking, left to visit his family who live in Rajasthan. Arvind figured if we could keep the office from burning down without Ganesh, would could conquer Bombay.
I don't care for cities in America, let alone in India, a country with three-times the people in one-third of the space. I also don't care for marketing, or business, or any of that funny-money stuff. Arvind figured he'd lure me in by adding a trip to Goa, the notoriously mellow beach state just south of Bombay, to the travel itinerary. While intrigued, I left Rishikesh for Arunachal Pradesh giving Arvind an Indian promise that it is certainly possible that I would join him.
After returning from the Subansiri River trip, I thought about traveling to the epic Tawang, situated high in the Himalayas in northern Arunachal, home to the second largest Buddhist monastery in the world. With the entire Kameng Disctrict, in which Tawang resides, on strike (think crazy Nishi-tribesmen carrying around massive swords protesting) after I returned from the Subansiri, I nixed that plan. I also thought about joining Nino on a 9-day raft support trip for a group of trekkers where we would raft the Siang and do all the camp work, while the trekking group walked each day from the beach, into the Siang River Valley and back to a camp just downstream each day. With only two or three river kilometers per day, meaning 30 to 45 mins of rafting, and lots of work promised, while I desperately wanted to see more of the Siang, I also nixed that plan. Thus, I called Arvind back and told him I was in for his mission to Bombay.
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You should've seen Arvind on the plane as we left Dehradun airport. Arvind grew up in a small mountain town in Himachal Pradesh and hadn't been on a plane for 15 years. He was acting more like a kid than any of the other real kids on the plane. The flight out of Dehradun (25 mins west of Rishikesh) offers awesome views of the Himalaya and Arvind guided me through each peak and valley. After landing in Delhi and boarding another plane for Bombay, we reviewed our powerpoint presentation.
Arvind, with his lack of computer skills, asked me to put together a presentation for our marketing trip upon arriving back in Rishikesh. Returning to Rishikesh on Dec. 3rd and leaving for Bombay the morning of Dec. 6th only gave me about two days to put together what would be the centerpoint of our market trip. It was a rush to the finish line to say the least, shuffling through thousands of pictures, learning about treks all through the Indian Himalayas, and avoiding the all to easy phrases of "incredible panoramic views" and "classic high-volume whitewater."
We were greeted in Bombay in a brand-new seven series BMW by Arvind's past client and good friend, Smolly. Actually, his real name is Ranjeev, but he got his nick-name Smolly due to his short and stocky physique. Smolly is a young bachelor who comes from a very wealthy family in the glitz and glamour capital of India. His 13th story flat in the poshest area of Bombay would be our home for the next 6 days in the city.
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| Smolly's 7-Star Resort...yes that's a stream with fish in it flowing through his living room |
The next day, Rajesh, yet another one of Arvind's past clients and old friends of his, took us sightseeing around the entire city. Shantaram, a great book recommended to me by many before I left for this trip that I finished while in Aruanchal, is based in Bomaby and it was great to see all the places in person he talked about.
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| Haji-Ali Mosque |
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| The famous Taj Mahal Palace hotel |
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| Classic Bombay, cricket and cabs |
While we were having a blast in the city, I often got nostalgic for Arunachal, where skyscrapers and traffic are a world away. Nonetheless, here we were and we were dropping in proud.
In Bombay, where it is always really hot and humid, to be respected you have to wear pants, a collard shirt, and shoes. As ridiculous as it seemed to me, a lover of shorts and flip flops, Arvind reminded me that if we didn't wear the proper attire, we wouldn't get to go certain places. Albeit not my style, I donned a full upper-middle class get-up to suit the day. Because of our following of the "dress code," Rajesh to us we were going to the Cricket Club of India, the most honored club in Bombay. Clubs are a British hold-over and they're essentially escapes from the chaotic city where the wealthy can enter and find workout facilities, swimming pools, restaurants, bars, and in this particular club, a cricket field.
Rubbing shoulders with the whose who of Bombay, we had an awesome lunch, toured the grounds, felt very British-Indian, and headed towards our first meeting of the trip.
To my delight and Arvind's embarrassment, the prawns we had at lunch didn't agree with him too well. I couldn't stop laughing as Arvind's bottom lip grew and grew in reaction to the meal.
Our first meeting was a success and we headed back to Smolly's after the long day for a night on the town. The next few days found us in meetings in various suburbs and vacation stations around Bombay. It was fun, but to be honest, not quite my cup of tea. Still, I was enjoying seeing a different part of India and eating home cooked meal after home cooked meal.
On our last day in Bombay before heading to Goa to relax, I mentioned that we should head into one of the largest slums in the world, Dharavi, and do a little shopping for loved ones. We had driven through the slum a few times but always with air conditioning on and windows up. Driving into the slum in an open rickshaw with one of Smolly's helpers as our local guide, it was a whole different experience. Many of you might know this slum as the "Slumdog Millionare" slum where the movie was set. On the ground, its famous for its leather products which are produced in the infinite back alleys and shipped all over India and the world. I brought my camera but was wary to use it. Sure enough, I took it out after a while to snap a picture and within seconds a few slum kids appeared out of nowhere. They switched between talking to me in slow pleasant English and feverishly snapping at each other in Hindi. I quickly put my camera back in my bag and when I lifted my head again, they were gone.
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| Hard to tell the scale and poverty from the main intersection |
I was glad we took a bit of a jaunt around the city walking and in a rickshaw as Arvind and I both felt we really got to feel and smell the city. We packed our things, said goodbye and thanks to Smolly, and boarded an overnight bus to Goa.
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Arambol beach in the Northernmost end of Goa is the Rishikesh of the South, home to western yoga practitioners, friendly backpackers, lost souls, and Israeli vacationers. Conveniently Arvind arranged for us to stay there with his friend from Rishikesh who owns a beach side guesthouse and restaurant there.
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| Arambol Beach |
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| The Om Star, our Goa home |
Back in flip flops and shorts, trading the Ganga view for the Arabian Sea view, we were right at home in our simple, laid-back accommodation. We rented a scooty and every day, cruised around to different parts of Goa, exploring the tourist attractions and the calmer coves.
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| Old Goa, where many icons of the Portuguese past stand tall |
While Goa is beautiful, we have great beaches back in California, and I was excited to get back North where I could travel to places much different than what I'm used to .
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| Nothing says Goa like a beach sunset and a Kingfisher |
Arvind and I once again packed up our bags and hopped on a 3-day train ride from Goa back to New Delhi.
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| The train scene |
After a long, but often entertaining local experience on the train, we spent the day in Delhi meeting with a few travel agencies and having very successful meetings.
We hopped in a taxi and drove through the night back to Rishikesh, home sweet home.
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