My plane got into Mumbai (Bombay) at 2 AM on October 15th, 2004.
I met my very first Indian during the bustle to get bags from overhead compartments and get off the plane. Within five minutes, the computer systems analyst from Pune had given me his card and invited me to stay with him when I pass through his town. Indian hospitality!

Getting off planes at night in thick tropical heat is always a very nostalgic reminder of one of my earliest memories: my very first airplane arrival at age 4, in Jakarta, Indonesia.

Even stronger was the feeling I got during the hour-long taxi ride through the deserted streets of one of the most overpopulated cities in the world. It was a wonderful way to arrive, calm and balmy in the middle of the night. View image

The smells of raw life -- and death, as in decomposing vegetables and other rubbish -- wafted in through the open windows. People were sleeping anywhere and everywhere. All the taxis are black with yellow roofsView image, and all the taxi drivers were sleeping outside, on the front hood of their cars. I am constantly amazed at how much roads in tropical countries have in common; the streets outside Mumbai could just have easily been in Indonesia, Africa, or Mexico. Same surface, same earthy borders, same shops, same trees, same pedestrians and same driving styles.

My hotel was hard to find, tucked away in a dark alleyway, with no sign or lights on. Someone led me inside, stepping over 6 or 7 sleeping bodies, and then climbing four stories in the dark, to find that one floor was the Lawrence Hotel. I woke the night person, who rubbed his eyes and said, "You must be Rolf."
He showed me to my room; flourescent tube light, tiled floor, cieling fan, one table and three beds, all side by side. View image
As I got into bed, I was exhausted, and still suffering from the flu I had brought with me. But, after threatening to come here all my life, I was also excited and happy to actually find myself in India.