It seems one should check one's ticket before they head to the airport. I could have sworn, by memory only, that my flight left at 7:30 PM. The strangest thing happened when I got to the checkin. She told me I was the last to check in and that my flight actually left at 7:15. If I didn't have enough anxiety on my hands, she then told me I had to stand in this very long line to get my bags screened.

In the end the flight taxied away from the gate about 10 minutes after I got on. The next surprise was much better. The plane was half empty. I got to spread out in the middle row and sleep all the way to Frankfurt only interrupted by the excellent food and a really hot Bollywood dance video they played.

I arrived in Frankfurt refreshed and got on to find a very old sick lady sitting in my seat. Her son asked if I minded if she traded seats with me since she'd gotten stuck in her seat on the way over. I agreed and spent the next ten hours in a seat that didn't recline with a mean backache. I managed to tolerate it all.

I wasn't quite sure what to expect when we got to Mumbai, I guess the same kind of zoo atmosphere as when I landed in Ghana with people grabbing at my bags and tigging at my clothes. No such thing, the airport was relatively clean and certainly had more character than LAX, although that's not hard to do. Most third world countries have better airports than LAX. I was loving the polished Italian marble floors.

Customs was a breeze, baggage check typical, money exchange took 10 minutes, the prepaid taxi was right down the hall... I was in a taxi 5 minutes after I paid the fare. Two really cute little girls in their cotton saris had their hands out for money once I got in the cab. They were the only beggars in sight. They kept saying no mama, no papa, hungry. I gave them some Rupees, they handed them back and asked for foreign currency. I had to laugh. I gave the a ten cent Euro coin and they said it wasn't enough. What can you do?

For an hour and a half ride into Colaba it was only about $7 US. The smell was somewhat offensive, mostly sewer type smells and burning trash, worse in some areas than others. The roads from the airport were crammed with new construction of ugly apartment buildings and all the roads were lined with people sleeping in the dirt and makeshift shanties along the way. I wanted to get pictures, but my camera wasn't agreeing with that sentiment. Lean stray dogs wandered in and out of traffice seemingly comfortable with the chaos and honking horns. My driver didn't even yield at red lights, he just flew on through in one case almost hitting a cop who barely took notice.

The further south we got the more interesting the area became. A lot of gorgous old intact highrises from the colonial period in the 17 and 1800's lined some streets and banyan trees with their dangling roots canopied almost every residential road. One street in particular struck my fancy. I'd love to buy the whole thing, but in high end restaurants and shops and market the highrises out to Bollywood stars and bed and breakfasts. So much opportunity.

As we reached Bandra I started seeing Mercedes Benzes and BMW's so I started to smell money. Soon enough were were in Colaba at my hotel. The staff checked me in without asking for a credit card or any payment whatsoever. Then three men walked me up to my room, one to operate the elevator, one to carry my big empty suitcase and one to pull my other suitcase filled with food. We all crammed into the itty bitty old elevator with the sliding gate and were lifted to the third floor. They took me to my room and busied themselves doing almost nothing at all. I paced back and forth wondering what they were doing and fretting over the stains on the one rug in the room. They finally left after looking for a tip that never came. All I had was a wad of big bills and thought better than to pull it out and start trimming off bills. I'll take care of them later.

Alone in the room I collected my thoughts, they were all over the place, people I met on the plane, things I forgot to do in the office, how I should get started, what I might have forgotten to pack...

A few minutes of anxiety and I set to work calling Vikram. The guy was still sleeping and slept right through my calls. I tried to call Rahul but discovered the first thing I'd forgotten, his number. Oops. I unpacked my bags and stepped out on to the balcony. Off to the side a clear view over the Arabian sea to downtown shrowded in mist with a hint of morning golden light enchanted me. It reminded me of the views down Avenida Atlantica in Rio or the views across the bay in Vancouver BC. I snapped a couple of shots with my camera before stepping back in and rousting Vikram from his sleep. He had the day off from grad school so he agreed to come into town and spend the day with me.

He had a two hour commute ahead of him and still needed to get up, so he was four hours away from arriving. I considered my options, walk the streets, find a cell phone to rent, find a web cafe, find a restaurant, and then I looked at the bed and a wave of jet lag related exhaustion hit me. I decided on a delicious little one hour nap. 5 hours later I woke up and realized Vikram was due any minute. I flew through the shower and discovered my hair gel was another victim of poor packing. In the humidity my hair stood up like a damn puff ball. I used my anti-bacterial hand cleanser to try and tame it, but the effect was less than desirable.

I tossed on some closed, packed my fanny pack and was pulling on my socks when Vikram arrived. DAMN!! This boy was fine. He had the most incredibly large doe like intelligent eyes that captivated me the entire remainder of the day. We headed out and saw many sites, the Causeway where all the street vendors sell, the Gate of India - rather unimpressive after all the hype- a lot of amazing architecture, British, Dutch, Middle Eastern Influened and local architects. Despite the neglect of many of the buildings, it amazed me. Many of the sidewalks were stoned paved and very old. I kept stopping to admire the old tiles and detailed architectural elements. I even got shoed away by the police on one occassion. I'm not sure why. Vikram argued with him in a perfectly disdainful way and the guy depuffed and walked away. Woohoo!

We had lunch at a posh restaurant where waiters outnumbered the guests. The spiced on the boned chicken and rice titilated my senses. I dropped my napkin twice and a waiter was at my feet immediately to pick it up. Talk about service. I'm loving this. Lunch with more food than either of could eat at a good restaurant set me back a wopping $4 with tip.

The streets swarmed with people, mostly men, but some women. The men, oh the men, absolutely stunning, that burnished fine brown skin, huge eyes, lean bodies. My heart it palpitating just thinking of it. If fact, right here in the cyber cafe a gorgeous stud sits to my right and to my left. Love it!

Men often walk hand in hand or with their arms around each other. I was told public displays of affection were not tolerated at all here. WRONG! I'm sure the hand holding was not necessarily a gay thing, although I got a whole lot of gaydar bells ringing and come hither looks. I was happy to be with Vikram.

We went through the Taj Majal Hotel, pretty but no different than any other 5 star hotel - read boring here. My hotel has more character and is a 5th the price. Onto the art museum we went and then several antique and craft stores. As suspected, I got to see world class exhibits none as of yet inspiring me to crack out the money, but I did salivate over a number of the antiques. Amazing intricate carvings.

Excellent quality shoes are around $20 from a good shop and pants and shirts are often around $1. I see a shopping spree in my future. :)

We ended up getting a little lost and took a taxi back to my hotel. A 20 minute ride fo $.50. I love INDIA! I could not be more enchanted.

Vikram made me stay up until 9:30 even though my jetlag ordered me to bed at 7PM. I slept incredibly well after he left.

Today, in fact in 3 minutes I meet Rahul. Wish me luck :)