Its sunday in the steaming city. I still love Mumbai. I've met so many really cool people and I'm loving my hotel. Did I mention that? I'm at the Sea Green Hotel on Marine Drive in Colaba. The staff always greets with a smile, the room is big with some great art deco elements. In fact the whole water front area where I'm staying was built on land reclaimed from the sea in the 1920's. Some of the buildings are really spectacular, but almost all of them need a serious face lift. I see a future for this area much like South Beach if anyone gets their concept and capitilazation in order.

The only think I don't like about my room is the one small rug under the coffee table. The darn thing has some dubious stains on it. I just keep my distance.

Two dollars got my laundry done yesterday. That was nice, because with the heat, humidity and amount of walking I'm doing in the smog, the get stinked up pretty fast.

Rahul showed up yesterday at about 10:30. I wandered in a tad bit late since writing this log with a slow connection slowed my progress a little bit.

He stood taller than expected and wore a really fantasticly elegant blue and white plaid shirt. I shook his hand which was weak, doughy and way too soft. I know he's not working and living in a house with two servants, but ...

My intuition immediately said to watch out for him that something wasn't right. I took him to my room to drop off the papers I carried and get set up for the day. He immediately started in on how I should plan my day, my trips around the country and where I should stay and which airlines I should fly. All of his commands took no concept of my frugality and impatience for pretentious displays of wealth. They also came off as completely patronizing since many of the things he said any idiot would know and many more things just weren't true. I guess he figured me to be a total polly ann. I tried to joke my way into a more pleasant topic and he immediately took offense at my humor. Oh me oh my, visions of an endless day stretching past the horizon dulled my with and humor.

We chatted a bit more and he asked if I wanted to see his "business" and if I'd brought condoms. What a romantic? I said no and yes. Then I suggested we get going. We walked to the nearest travel agency while he bragged about the new flat he had just bought in Anderhi, a very nice part of the city. He then told me he would call his car and driver the next time we went out. This is a guy that told me he had no money and could only go to Goa with me if I paid for it. A lot of the conversation revolved around what a great guy he is, how honest he is, how he never lies, how he's a wonderful catch... I'm a firm believer in what people do and not what they say. His deeds contradicted his words and the deeds drove a thick emotional wedge.

The first travel agency's computers were down, so Rahul grabbed a cab to his travel agency. The man at the desk acted like he couldn't be bothered with me. Being in no great hurry to make any travel arrangments, I thanked him and stepped away. Rahul stepped up to confirm his tickets that he'd ordered to Columbo, Sri Lanka. Too poor to pay his way to Goa, my ass.

Things looked up a bit over lunch. He did choose a very elegantly designed restaurant with an amazing buffet, great service, and very delish. They made use of smoothed slate set unevenly with glass mosaic in the gaps. The effect truly inspired me. I wish I'd taken some pictures like I have of other design elements around town. Again the conversation over lunch flowed like flesh over broken glass. I got the conversation onto such edifying subjects as the kind of wood they used on the window sills...yawn.

Finally we made it to the theives market. The architecture watching on the side of the road amazed me. I tried to grab a few shots, but the taxi went too fast. Rahul cautioned me that I shouldn't take too many pictures because I might inflame the Muslims since the neighborhood was primarily Muslim. Those words came out with an element of contempt I found displeasing.

When the taxi finally stopped and I took in the energy of the area, I felt like a fattened pig in the wallow. Antiques, architectural elements and collectibles of top quality crammed little tiny shops all around me. Several of the shops carried art deco lighting fixtures that had been pulled from the beautiful old buildings around town. I had to resist tempation to buy a pile of them to restore my art deco apartments. I may however, go back and throw some money around before I head home.

Rahul spent the entire time we were there with his arms crossed, looking at his watch ever 30 seconds, pacing around outside the shops and sighing endlessly. What fun for me. I told him to please go run errands or something since he appeared so put out. He said no, he was enjoying himself. Oh yes, I believed that.

One shop had an ancient Chinese ink well that shimmered like an opal when I turned it around in the light. He wanted about $100 for it. I didn't see a bargain to be had there. Another store had blue cut class art deco wall sconces that I have to have. If they are still there when I get back to town, I'm going to buy them. The last store I went in before I lost patience with Rahul's behavior had a victorian set of art glass chandeliers with orange and yellow hand blown shades. I see those in my living room and dining room. I'll be back for those as well.

A little jet lagged and socially weary, I couldn't bring myself to make conversation in the taxi. I'd love to have said goodbye at the door of the hotel, but Rahul had left the dvd's he'd asked me to buy him in my room. He came up and asked if he could relax. The next thing out of his mouth had to do with the ironed crease in his blue jeans (ughhh) and how he wanted to take them off to keep the crease crisp. At that point I'd rather have seen one of the street beggars naked than him. He takes off his pants and comes over and tried to kiss me. I turned my cheek and pushed him away. He tried to be pleasant after that, the first attempt he'd made all day. An effort that left me at once smothered and repelled like a pile of stink.

He next asked if he could take a shower. Not unreasonable at this point considering the heat and humidity. I turned on the TV, shifted my focus to it, and said okay hoping he'd take the rest of his clothes off in the bathroom. He didn't. I didn't look.

After the shower he again tried to kiss me after he got dressed. I said he moved way to fast for me knowing any chance he had of making a good impression had failed on me. Finally he left telling me what a good time he'd had. Say what? I said I was happy for him. The in your face irony seemed lost on him.

I took a short nap after he left. I didn't particular feel physically tired, but the emotional strain of the day had taken a toll. When I awakened I called Vikram to tell him about my day. He'd just left the Vagina Monologs. I so love it that he would see that play. I loved that play. I'd seen it in Hollywood with Susan Anton, Ellen Cleghorn and Jillian Barbieri. He and his frineds liked it too.

I have a crush on Vikram. My rational self says, he lives half a world away, is only 20, and it wouldn't work. Another part of me says, he's got all the characteristics I admire: great work ethic, a sense of independence, stellar intellect, a quick wit, a life plan, curiousity about the world and people, honesty, openness... What to do, what to do....?

I went to dinner around the corner from my hotel at a jazz club/pizzaria. Nice place but swarming with tourists. I picked the Chicken Tikka Masala from the only three Indian dishes on the menu, ate fast and made an exit. A group of British guys and a couple of their Indian friends sat at the next table. I couldn't help but listen in on their conversation since they'd had a few. By the end of the meal I decided I liked them. One guy with tattoos and a really outgoing personality really cracked me up.

Once outside I decided to walk along the sea wall across the street. Its seems to be a popular spot for friends and lovers to hang out and talk. Oddly enough I felt a little out of my element there. I tried to focus on the beauty of the city lights across the bay, the art deco buildings across the street, but it wasn't working. So I crossed the street and walked up one of the high density residential streets. Here I felt more in my element among the men sitting on the sidewalk chatting, the homeless sleeping wrapped in dirty rags, the banyan trees with their roots dangling down digging into the sidewalk and streets. I talked to a few of the sleek long necked street dogs. They looked at me happy for the attention, but didn't seemed to understand English.

I ended up at Churchgate station where a guy offered to take me to a disco. Not being a disco kind of guy I declined. I ended up out the other side of the station where dozens of families camped in a relatively calm area fenced off from the street. I couldn't quite figure out how to get out of there, but I manged. I walked into the street where many people prefer to walk to the sidewalks. I think that may have something to do with the potholes in the sidewalks and the relative smoothness of the road. The trouble is your fighting for space on the street with taxis, cars, trucks, motorcycles and bikes all honking their horns. The taxis are totally cool with a look like big American cars from the 50's and 40's something like pictures you see of Cuba. I have to get a picture of them lined up on the roads.

I tried to make my way to the Causeway, an area of nice shops and street vendors. I didn't quite make it. I ended up in a relatively deserted residential area that went on for blocks. A huge wall blocked the view on one side of the street, but the other side had amazingly detailed old colonial buildings from the 19th century. Loved it. I ended up following a couple of young guys wandering down the street holding hands, despite my wish that all these men holding hands or walking with their arms around each other are gay, it means nothing of the sort other than a show of affection. The two guys stopped for a moment in front of the most gorgeous building on the block. They said hello and we started chatting. One was a very handsome young professional soccer player and the other worked in his families small scale hash business. The fact that trade is illegal didn't seem to inspire any sort of caution in him. They told me they had been smoking Bangh. I'm not entirely sure what that is, although I'm thinking its hash or something like it. It seems to be some sort of narcotic. I'll do some questioning about that later. The soccer player stood about 6' tall and couldn't have weighed more than 130 lbs. As predicted before my departure, I often feel like a beached whale here at 5'10" and 190 lbs. I'm hopeing all this walking is burning off some poundage. The other guy, the hash dealer, couldn't have been more than 5'6" or so and had huge bushy monobrow, which oddly I find rather attractive. When the subject came to age, I told them I was 41. They exclaimed believably that I looked no more than 30 at the most and complimented me on my muscular frame. Perhaps my choice of clothing hid the fat beneath and made it look more like muscle or perhaps these men were masters of flattery. Either way it made my day.

They pointed to the security guard that watched the hash guy's building, family owned building and the most stunning on the block I might add. He was 45 and certainly looked it. Happily I compared favorably. I told them they could make bank if they restored the building and converted it to a hotel. There is a dirth of fine buildings converted to hotel use in Mumbai and one well restored with good service could make huge money. I've been tossing this idea around since I got here. Property, even in Colaba is cheap. A huge loft sells for around $30,000. The most expensive lofts sell for around $235,000. A fascinating subject I'd totally love to dig deeper into.

My new friends found me a taxi, wished me well, and off I went. A block away the cab driver stopped and demanded 100 rupees to take me to my hotel. I told him I'd rather walk. The fare should have been about 15 to 20 rupees. I stepped out of the cab and, as I approached, a guy across the street said hello to me and introduced himself. He had relocated from Nepal two years earlier and gave off great tranquil energy like Vikram. He introduced me to his friend down the street and we walked a couple of blocks together.

I so love talking to folks just walking down the street. It reminds me of my great love of door knocking to get real estate clients. I can't think of a more pleasant way to spend the day.

Eventually I caught another taxi and was home safely at my hotel 15 minutes later. He too overcharged, but by an acceptible margin at 35 rupees.

Upstairs freshly showered and relaxed I turned on the TV and cought a really wonderful subtitled movie called "Bandit Queen" I fell asleep half way through it, but I suspect I can buy it on the street for about a dollar. Some of the Bollywood films are totally cool and I'm loving the music videos.

I spent some time this morning deciding on my travel plans. I'm ready to move on. I'll see what I can do about getting air tickets to Goa tomorrow. I'll call the 300 year old hotel I picked today to get reservations. Worst case scenario I'll book a train if the flights are booked. It seems everyone goes to Goa in December. I'm happy I met the Nepalese guys, they told me not to worry about the drugs and booze that I can create my own experience there. So right!

I meet Vikram later this afternoon to go run around. He has family obligations all day.