Thursday, April 11, 2019
Bombay
A Leisurely Morning in Matheran and Return Journey to Bombay
Namaste from Bombay!
Nafisa and I are back in Bombay now after what has been a really lovely short break in Matheran.
Our day began in Lord’s Hotel where both of us had a lousy night. We realize that we have been overcharged for a place that has not been upgraded in at least 30 years. Bedsheets and towels were threadbare, hot water for showers is available only for 3 hours of the morning—from 7-10 am—there is no wifi in the rooms and, no free bottles of Bisleri water—there is a plastic water canteen in the room which, we were told, contains filtered water. For Rs. 4,500 per head (which is about $75—with breakfast only), this was far too overpriced.
We had also slept badly and could not wake up to see the sunrise which would have been nice from the sun room attached to our room. Still, we washed, dressed and went for breakfast to the dining room and looked forward to a nice meal.
Breakfast at Lord’s:
As expected, the breakfast was very good. There was tea and coffee available but I asked for a lassi (for which there was an extra charge; but I was happy to pay it). They started us off with vegetable upma—which is savory semolina. It is a very typical Indian breakfast item to be found on most Indian menua. We were also offered unlimited toast with butter and strawberry jam. The waiter asked us how we would like our eggs and named a number of ways in which he could prepare them. We chose the Unda Bhurji—which is a typically Parsi breakfast. It is scrambled eggs made creamy by the addition of minced onions and tomatoes and a few choice spices. It is delicious on toast and we ate well. We really did enjoy our breakfast but took care not to overeat. Both of us had awoken to upset tummies from the spiciness of our nihari of the previous night!
We found out that the toy train that we wished to take as far as Aman Lodge would leave at 2.45 in the afternoon. Tickets could not be booked in advance—you had to be present at the ticket window only 35 minute before the train’s departure. This left us the morning free to go on more long walks along red mud roads, past well-established jambul trees filled with cheeky monkeys.
So off we went, rambling slowly until we spotted signs for Khandala Point. We had to descend down steps made of red laterite stone until we came to the promontory of a mountain that was barricaded with good grills to prevent people from falling over. This offered a lovely view of the mountain range ahead as well as the plains below. We stayed there in the shade of beautiful trees watching the antics of a monkey family before retracing our steps and going up again.
We then walked in the opposite direction, past the church (as we had only gone as far as it yesterday (and ventured into the lobby of a hotel called Usha Ascotwhere we were presented with a refreshing glass of water). We then continued on our walk for another half an hour. This time we passed by a sprawling bungalow with curved dual staircases that was a private property with a vast front garden belonging to a Parsi family. In this area, hidden beyond our line of vision, were what seemed like hordes of crickets. They set up a chirping in unison that reached a loud crescendo and then just as suddenly, they all stopped in a pack so that the sound petered off to silence. It was most uncanny as it rose and dipped several times and added to the evocative atmosphere of the place. At this point, we turned around and walked at leisurely pack back to our hotel.
A Magic Show in the Mountains:
It was while we were entering the gate of the property of the Lord’s Hotel that we were accosted once again by the Magician who had asked us yesterday if he could perform for us. As we were headed out yesterday, we had declined his offer; but today, with a free morning yawning ahead of us and the desire to do something fun, I took him up on his offer. He said that we could pay him whatever we desired. I thought Rs. 100 each would be a very fair price.
Accordingly, he seated us on the steps of one of the bungalows of our property and began his act. He was quite marvelous indeed and I have to say that we were quite enchanted. He did the usual tricks—with scarves that were tightly knotted but miraculously came undone; with a variety of marbles that multiplied, appeared, disappeared, concealed themselves under cups; with coins that disappeared from our palms and then appeared concealed in my jeans; with a ring that was placed under a scarf but reappeared around his magic baton…you know the sort of thing that low-tech travelling magicians do as they make the rounds trying to find takers. I loved it.
I remembered that seeing a magic show is always part and parcel of a hill-station holiday and that the only times I have ever seen them has been when I had been either to Matheran or Mahabaleshwar or Panchgani—one of the hill-stations of Maharashtra that surround the urban environs of Bombay. This skill has been passed down from father to son and has been practiced since the days of the British Raj. In fact, if you listen to the commentary of the magician as he plies his trade, you will find him uttering a lot of gibberish, but bits of it are definitely of Raj vintage, such as “One, two, three, eleven, seven, Hello Charlie!” I found the entire experience fascinating and such a testament to a dying art form. Who knows? Were I to come another twenty years from now, the traveling magician will be a thing of the past.
A Quiet Morning Spent Reading:
Filled with our large breakfasts, Nafisa and I did not feel inclined to eat lunch that early, Instead, we brought the lipstick red chairs out to our deck and settled ourselves down with reading material. She found a nice travel magazine and I pulled out my Ipad which I had carried and we spent almost an hour relaxing completely with the pool below us and the wide expanse of a vast mountain in front of us.
About a half hour into our quiet relaxation, a cheeky monkey came right in front of us with a whole packet of our biscuits in his hands. He looked at us cheekily, as if to say, “Hey you suckers…look what I found!” Turns out we had left our room door open. He went inside our room found the small plastic packet containing our snacks and had helped himself to our packet of biscuits. We were aghast. Nafisa jumped up and was terrified because she had left her phone to charge inside—as had I. Monkeys, apparently, are fond of your cell phone and are known to snatch that from your unaware fingers! Luckily, this Charlie was more interested in food and our biscuits were all with which he made off.
We continued sitting there with me blogging and Nafisa reading as we called for the bottle of Bisleri soda water for which we had paid yesterday. We also called for ice and sipping the carbonated water under the shade of a giant tree overlooking the mountains, we stayed put for another hour. We had earlier taken a lot of pictures of the property with its lush vivid bougainvillea blooms. Sadly, neither one of us had carried our swimsuits and without those, we were not allowed to get into the water.
Journey Back to Bombay:
And then it was time for us to get back to Bombay. We left our hotel after checking out and thanking Zenobia, we walked along the red mud road towards Matheran railway station. En route, we stopped at a chikki shop to buy the famous chikki for which the hill-stations are famed. I bought a packet for me and a packet for Dad and Russel and Nafisa bought a packet for her husband Husefa. That was the sum total of our Matheran buys.
At the station, we saw that a line had already formed at the ticket window for the train that would leave at 2.45. We did not fancy standing in the sun (the heat was pretty bad) and elected instead to walk down to Aman Lodge from where we would take a taxi to Neral. This meant that we would have to forego the pleasure of taking the toy train, but as Nafisa was not too keen and I had been on it as a child, we passed on the pleasure.
This time round, we took the red mud road that wound downhill to Aman Lodge. Once again, we appreciated the utter silence of the place, the ancient trees that formed a canopy throughout our hike downhill and provided us with much needed shade and lovely dappled avenues as we made our way down. En route, we passed by men trudging uphill with carts filled with construction materials, paint cans and pack horses (mules) with LPG cylinders strapped to their sides. It is sad to see animals and humans still doing this kind of manual work in these parts. But, I suppose, this is their livelihood and but for these jobs, they would be unemployed.
We reached Aman Lodge station after exactly half an hour on foot. For the most part, we’d had the road entirely to ourselves—this was part of the charm of our hike as it allowed us to enjoy lusty bird song and the natural calls of a number of our hidden feathered friends. From Aman Lodge, it was another ten minutes on foot to the spot where the taxi touts wait for passengers to go to Neral.
We found a taxi that we shared with another couple and in half an hour, we were at Neral station intending to take a local Central Railway train to Victoria Terminus where we had begun our journey yesterday. Instead, to our big disappointment, we discovered there was no train for at least 45 minutes. This meant sitting in the sweltering heat at the station where there were few fans. Luckily, Nafisa had a water spray mister and I had my battery-operated hand fan and using those two items, we kept ourselves comfortable as we found seating and stayed patient.
The train was packed and we had no seats for about 20 minutes, until other ladies occupying the compartment vacated theirs to get off. The long journey was then quite pleasant indeed. I got off at Dadar to change to the Western railway local train that would take me to Bandra while Nafisa carried on to VT and, from there, home to Byculla.
I found my way easily on to a Western Railway train and from Bandra station took a bus that brought me back to my flat at exactly 5.45 pm—it was exactly 3 hours from Matheran to my flat although we had lost 45 minutes waiting for the connecting train. I made a call to let my Dad know I had reached but requested him to excuse me from visiting or joining him for Mass.
Instead, I jumped into the shower to take the red mud of my feet and get a refreshing shampoo as my hair felt dry and matted. I also made myself a G and T and sat to enjoy it with TV—only to discover that I have lost network connection and have no cable TV, no internet (and, therefore, no email!). I called my provider to complain and he told me he is on the job. But as it was already late in the day, I do not expect to have anything done until tomorrow.
Instead, I served myself some dinner (as I was starving—our last meal had been breakfast!) and seated with kheema mattar, cabbage and a bread side dish with one chappati, I enjoyed my meal and decided to make an early night of it.
I was so happy that I had finally returned to Matheran and that I had found a willing companion to go with me. Nafisa was a fun companion and we are very compatible together—which makes travel such a breeze.
Until tomorrow…
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