Column: A visit to Mumbai

I celebrated the two-month anniversary of my arrival in India by meditating in a pagoda and avoiding fireworks set off in celebration of Ganesh Chaturthi.

For part of the weekend, at least.

An extra day off school for the beginning of the festival allowed enough time for some friends and I to get to Mumbai.

Though the city was officially renamed Mumbai after an election in 1995, locals still call it Bombay, the name the British East India Company gave it.

India’s tourism department markets it as the “City of Dreams.”

Whatever one chooses to call it, one of India’s most densely populated cities is one of my new favorite places.

The colonial architecture and abundance of fashionable restaurants make it a fantastic blend of Indian flair and European sophistication.

At the same time, it’s incredible how a city that oozes so much affluence can also have more than half of its population living in slums.

During our first day exploring Mumbai, we watched workers launder shirts and sheets from around the city at Dhobi Ghat. The dhobis, or washermen, fill huge cement basins with water, soap and clothes in the massive open-air laundromat,
We spent the early evening admiring the skyline from Chowpatty Beach, eating kulfi and breathing in the Arabian Sea air.

The view was even better from the wall that stretches down Marine Drive.

While gazing out at the shoreline, eunuchs wordlessly patted each of us on the head as they passed by. I’m hoping we weren’t cursed.

We woke up bright and early the next morning to see the Gateway of India and take a ferry out to the Elephanta Caves.

In true tourist attraction fashion, we had to walk past dozens of vendors selling small statues of Ganesh, Buddha and bedazzled Krishna on the mile-long trek uphill to the caves.

By the time we reached the three-headed, 20-foot-tall Shiva in the first cave, my head was swimming with images of Hindu gods.

The only disappointing part of the trip was not being able to visit the National Gallery of Modern Art, which was closed all weekend for a change of exhibits. Across the street, Jehangir Art Gallery housed an eclectic display of local artists.

Possibly the most creative art we saw was between the Mahim and Dadar train stations. Called “The Great Wall of Mumbai,” The Wall Project invited anyone who was interested to paint a section of the wall back in 2009.

It is still surprisingly well-kept, with more paintings and inspirational messages than mindless graffiti.

Our last day included another boat trip offshore.

Fifty rupees bought a round-trip ferry ticket to the aforementioned Global Vipassana Pagoda. Its golden domes tower over the kitschy amusement park located next door.

The ornamental structure was a vast departure from the simplicity of the temples of Buddhist monks we saw earlier in the weekend at Ellora Caves in Aurangabad.

As we boarded a cab headed to the airport, a longing to stay nagged at my mind. Three days was nowhere near enough time to experience Mumbai.

Visions of the skyline from Elephanta Island will have to hold me over until I can visit again.

­— kmthacke@indiana.edu.

Follow travel columnist Kate Thacker on Twitter @katelynthacker.