Mumbai memories

Over the years I’ve visited Mumbai many times travelling for business. I normally based myself in the Nariman Point district as our office was in a building on Barrister Rajni Patel Marg Road, almost directly opposite the infamous Oberoi Hotel. However, I usually stayed in the more modestly priced Trident hotel next door. This hotel, and the Oberoi, were the site of a horrific terrorist massacre that that made global headlines in November 2008.

At the time, the attack felt very personal. It took place in hotels I regularly frequented, and police sharpshooters used our office building’s roof to target terrorists holed up inside the Trident Hotel. These men were the last of ten members of Lashkar-e-Taiba, a militant Islamist organisation from Pakistan, who carried out 12 coordinated shooting and bombing attacks across Mumbai over four days. This includes attacks in the Oberoi, the Trident, and the iconic Taj Mumbai hotel situated on the Gateway to India waterfront.

My first trip to Mumbai was in August 2002. At the time, my company’s office was still based in Colaba, a narrow isthmus on the southernmost tip of the low-lying peninsula upon which much of Mumbai is built. The company put me up in The Gordon House Hotel, a delightful boutique hotel located a short walk from the Gateway to India (shown above). The hotel was a wonderfully calm and clean oasis amid the chaos that continually enveloped you on the streets of India.

I recall my shock upon entering the Mumbai office for the first time. To gain access you had to walk down a cluttered laneway, off Arthur Bunder Road, and across an open dirt ditch filled with debris and what was undoubtedly human waste. We relocated the office about a year later to the more established business district at Nariman Point.

This first trip to Mumbai was very much all about business. I flew in late on Tuesday, 20 August after transiting through Singapore earlier that day. I then spent a day meeting with the team in Mumbai before everyone boarded an overnight train to Goa on Wednesday evening. This was my second time travelling overnight on an Indian train. My first experience was an overnight trip from Varanasi to Delhi a few months earlier in March of the same year.

For the next three days, I lead an all-staff offsite for our entire Indian business. We were based at a lovely beachside resort on the Goan coast. Sadly, each day was filled with back-to-back activities and training workshops. As a result, I never got to see anything of Goa beyond a few passing glimpses of its decaying, Portuguese-influenced, colonial buildings from the back of a taxi while making my way to and from the railway station. On Saturday evening, the Mumbai team and I returned to Mumbai on another overnight train.

 On Monday, Madhuri, the general manager of our Mumbai office met me at the Gateway of India for a surprise outing. The Gateway of India is one of Mumbai’s iconic sights. It’s an imposing arch-monument completed in 1924. It was erected to commemorate George V’s coronation as the Emperor of India thirteen years earlier. In 1911, he’d landed at the gate’s location, making him the first British monarch to visit India.

Madhuri booked us a ferry excursion out to Elephanta Island. This island sits in the northern reaches of Mumbai Harbour and is renowned for a series of ancient caves and archaeological remains. Our rickety open-air boat took an hour or so to cross the harbour. It was quite an experience. I distinctly recall how exposed I felt sitting in a low-slung boat crowded with visitors, and little more than a single outboard motor to propel us.

The Elephanta Caves, as they’re commonly known, are a collection of ancient cave temples. All in all, there are five Hindu caves primarily dedicated to the Hindu god Shiva, a few Buddhist stupa mounds dating back to the 2nd century BC, and two Buddhist caves with hand-hewn water tanks. Interestingly, despite the extensive infrastructure, very little is known about the island’s origins.

The caves contain rock-cut pillars and stone sculptures, mostly in high relief, depicting an eclectic combination of Hindu and Buddhist ideas and iconography. Sadly, with a few exceptions, much of the artwork is defaced and damaged. The largest cave extends an impressive 39 metres from the front entrance to the rear. Its main atrium, the cave’s central Shiva shrine, is around 27 metres square, with a roof supported by a series of carved basalt rock pillars. It’s an impressive structure despite its decaying condition.

Madhuri and I spent several hours exploring the caves and the island’s waterfront before returning to Mumbai on the same tiny ferry boat shortly before sunset. After dinner at a nearby restaurant, Madhuro and her driver returned me to the airport for another horrendous late-night red-eye flight to Singapore and on to Sydney a few days later. The flight to Singapore rarely took more than five hours, departing shortly after midnight, and then thanks to the magic of time zones, landed shortly after 8:00am.

One final note, the image that opens this post is the wonderful gothic facade of Churchgate station, recently renamed Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus. This stunning gothic building is one of the main railway stations in Mumbai. The 'church' in the original name refers to the nearby St Thomas' Cathedral, the first Anglican church in Mumbai. The cathedral was erected more than 300 years ago.

Kanondo Tree Camp

It’s time for another Kodak era retrospective post. Here’s a look back at the first time I went on a safari in Africa. At the time, I was en route to Europe for my brother Hamish’s wedding in Kitzbuhel in October 1996. I decided to make the most of my time abroad by booking my first-ever round-the-world ticket. My route flew me from Johannesburg to Frankfurt, then onto LA and Honolulu before flying back to Sydney.

On the way to Europe, I spent seven days in southern Africa, packing in plenty of once-in-a-lifetime experiences. First up was a flight to Victoria Falls where I spent two nights exploring this breathtaking wonder of the natural world. I then transferred to Hwange National Park for three nights on safari, before finally stopping for a night in Johannesburg.

My inaugural African safari adventure kicked off on 10 October. After three days in Victoria Falls, a safari guide collected me from my hotel for transfer to Hwange. My travel agent had booked me into the cosy, but rustic, Kanondo Tree Camp, about two hours east of Victoria Falls. I’d asked the agent to book a venue that offered an authentic safari experience, rather than a plush hotel that would distance me from the surrounding environment. He certainly delivered on the brief.

The camp was in a private game reserve bordering Hwange National Park. It offered treetop accommodation in private treehouse chalets built on stilts near the Kanondo Pan waterhole. The grounds were open to the surrounding bush. The chalets are windowless open-fronted rooms with nothing more than a curtain shielding guests from the African wildlife. However, despite its remote location, the camp was surprisingly well-appointed. My chalet included an ensuite on the ground floor, with hot water provided for a couple of hours twice a day. Our meals were cooked and served in a central thatched roof “Boma” pavilion.

The camp is ideally situated as the nearby waterhole is popular with local wildlife. Just how popular became evident on our second night in camp. We heard an antelope briefly screech in the dark. The following morning when we ventured out on safari, we came upon a leopard up a tree with a freshly killed antelope securely wedged in its boughs.

Our guides took us out on safari twice times a day. Once in the morning and again in the late afternoon once the heat of the day had subsided. The wildlife was abundant and easy to find. Thanks to the dry season, the animals were heavily concentrated around a few remaining waterholes. 

The Kanondo waterhole just outside our camp is also situated in the heart of the home range of the famous Presidential Elephants of Zimbabwe, This is a three-hundred-strong herd that's often seen drinking at Kanondo or feeding in the forest around the camp.

I'm delighted to report that, while on safari, our group successfully spotted four of the Big Five game animals. The Rhino was the only one we never saw. However, it wasn’t resident in the area, so we really hadn’t missed it. The leopards were out in abundance. We saw more than a dozen over three days. Our guide later told us how rare it was to see so many in one location.

The elephants loved our local waterhole. They were the first of the Big Five we saw within minutes of leaving camp for the first time. We stopped to watch their antics, including several babies, more than once, including an awesome safari drive after dark. As you can imagine, I took roll upon roll of film while in Hwange. The images shown here are just a few of almost a hundred photos I took.

While in Hwange, a group of us took a half tour into the local village. Our itinerary included visiting the village primary school where its Principal escorted us around the grounds. At one point, we entered a classroom to watch the children receive a lesson. We introduced ourselves and told where we'd come from. A couple on my tour had come prepared. They’d brought boxes of pencils especially to gift to the children. As for me, I recall donating most of the remaining local currency in my wallet.

Our guide also invited us into a local resident’s thatched hut where we found the occupants cooking indoors over an open firepit. Then, finally, as we were leaving the village we saw the children leaving school for the day on the local school bus aka a horse-drawn cart. I still recall how stunned I was by this first exposure to the primitive nature of life in Africa. An insight that was subsequently reinforced when I visited Soweto a few days later.

On 13 October, after a final early morning safari, I returned to Johannesburg via Lake Karbi and Harare. I flew domestically with Air Zimbabwe before transferring to a South African Airways flight from Harare. The domestic flight’s brief stop in Lake Karbi was unexpected as it wasn’t listed on my ticket.

However, the detour was a real highlight. Lake Karbi is considered one of Zimbabwe’s premier tourist spots. I still recall the experience of coming to land, flying low over the lake, as thousands of flamingoes scattered in the distance. Score one for the window seat I’d managed to bag! In contrast, Harare airport was a shock. The terminal proved to be little more than a retrofitted tin shed.

My flight to Frankfurt departed late evening the following day. I made the most of my time in Johannesburg with a full-day tour that took me through the heart of Soweto and then onto Pretoria via the iconic Volktrekker Monument. The tour of Soweto was particularly memorable. Its highlights included a stop for lunch at Wandie’s Place, plus stops at Nelson Mandela’s early home, a local swatter camp and the site of the infamous Soweto uprising. I still recall how stark the contrast was between Soweto and the wealthy northern suburb of Sandton.

Once again the poverty was eye-opening, as were signs reminding visitors to leave their weapons outside. Our tour was invited inside one of the squatter huts to meet "Grandma" a local institution. She was warm and inviting.  However, I must admit that I cringe now at the photo I took inside her home. It reeks of unsavoury voyeur tourism, even though each of us visiting gave her a small donation.

The tour of Pretoria was rather truncated. We briefly stopped to tour Paul Kruger House and experience a view over the city from Parliament Hill. Although to be honest, the city's most memorable aspect was its Jacaranda trees. They were in full bloom everywhere you looked.

Chaos was reigning when I arrived at the airport that night. I was scheduled to fly with South African Airways. However, all of its flights were grounded thanks to industrial action. Momentary panic set in as I’d left myself one day to get to Kitzbuhel for my brother’s wedding on 16 October. I was scheduled to land in Frankfurt on 15 October, then catch a train to Wörgl where my brother had offered to collect me. Fortunately, the airline transferred me onto a Lufthansa flight. As a result, I flew out only a few hours later than originally scheduled.

I recall two things about this flight. First, I flew a 747 Combi. This unique 747 configuration has its front half decked out for passengers while the rear is configured to carry freight. A false wall separates the two zones, making for a relatively compact passenger cabin. Furthermore, thanks to the strike, there wasn’t an empty seat to be found onboard my flight.

The second recollection involves our takeoff from Johannesburg. Thanks to the airport’s relatively high altitude, our fully laden aircraft used the full length of the airport’s extended runway to climb into the air. OR Tambo International Airport sits 1700 metres above sea level. As a result, the air is thinner, and often made more so by the unrelenting heat of the day. To overcome this issue, its runways are longer than most other airports. The longest is an astonishing 4400 metres long.

One final memory to close this post. Shortly before flying out of Sydney, my hairdresser had talked me into bleaching my hair. As a result, I flew out as a bottle blonde. However, the unrelenting African sun played havoc with its colour. By the time I arrived in Kitzbuhel, my hair had morphed into an oddly orange hue. It would be fair to say my hair was the talk of my brother’s wedding.

Mosi-oa-Tunya

I first visited Victoria Falls in October 1996. At the time I was enroute to Europe for my brother Hamish’s wedding in Kitzbuhel. Leading up to the main event, I stopped for a week in Africa with Victoria Falls as my first destination. I transferred there directly from Johannesburg after flying overnight from Sydney via Perth. I stayed two nights from 8-10 October at the now-defunct Makasa Sun Hotel, a few doors down from the iconic Victoria Falls Hotel.

The Falls are known to the Batonga people as Mosi-oa-Tunya which broadly translates as “The smoke that thunders”. It’s an apt name. The Falls are perpetually shrouded in mist that forms as the Zambezi River plunges into a craggy 1.7-kilometre ravine along the Zimbabwean and Zambian border. Their modern name was anointed by Scottish missionary and explorer Dr. David Livingstone who named them after his Queen in 1855.

I arrived in Victoria Falls towards the end of the dry season. As a result, almost two-thirds of the falls were inactive during my visit. Water was only flowing over the Devil’s Cataract and a short stretch of the main cascade east of Cataract Island. However, the scale and magnitude of this natural wonder was evident thanks to an imposing barren cliff face extending half a kilometre towards the Zambian border. I finally saw the falls in full-flood when I returned with my Mum a decade later. 

Without a doubt, the highlight of my visit was a microlight flight I took over the Falls on my first day in town. On a whim, I walked into the office of a local tour operator late in the afternoon. After a brief phone call with a local pilot, they agreed to book me on a final flight for the day. I was then driven to the airport where I was duly strapped into the rear of a two-seater microlight.

The experience was simply stunning. Imagine this if you can, the wind in your hair as you fly in lazy circuits above the falls. Below you, the setting sun slowly transforms the fall’s rising mist into iridescent shades of orange and pink. It was absolutely magical. The pilot later admitted that he’d finished for the day when the tour operator called. However, he couldn’t resist the temptation of a final flight at sunset.

The following day, 9 October, I briefly visited Zambia. I’m not ashamed to admit that I was just after another stamp in my passport. My brief visit involved walking over the landmark Victoria Falls bridge, passing through the Zambian border checkpoint about 500 metres up the road, and then on towards what is now the Avani Victoria Falls Resort on the banks of the Zambezi River. An hour or so later I retraced my steps back across the border to Zimbabwe. In the years since I’ve often debated whether I can truly count this brief excursion as a visit to Zambia.

I then capped off the evening dining on the outdoor terrace of the landmark Victoria Falls Hotel. The hotel sits on the rim of the Zambezi River gorge, downstream from the falls. Its location is perfectly aligned to give visitors a dramatic view up the gorge, past its equally famous arched bridge, to the falls themselves. Sadly, thanks to the dry season, the falls weren’t visible from this location during my visit.  

On 10 October, I transferred to Hwange for my inaugural African safari experience. However, before setting off, I booked a morning cruise on the Zambezi River. At the time, I was the only confirmed passenger. Therefore, in order for the tour to proceed I agreed to pay a minimum booking for two people. While waiting for my ride to the river, I met a young woman backpacking alone in Africa. As I’d already paid for an extra person, I invited her to join me at no extra cost. She gladly accepted.

Our river cruise started uneventfully enough. We passed endless herds of hippopotamuses wading in the distance. As they glided by our boat driver explained how dangerous these creatures were. He cautioned that they’d attack the boat if we ventured too close. The guide accompanying us dramatically reinforced the warning. He claimed more people were killed by hippos than any other animal in Africa.

Suddenly, without warning, a hippo surfaced directly in front of our boat. These incredible animals can hold their breath for up to five minutes, then stride fully submerged along the bottom of the river for hundreds of metres. Momentary panic ensued as our driver took evasive action to avoid the massive creature and put some distance between us. For a minute I wondered if I’d end my days as another hippo attack statistic.

One final memory. Every morning as I went for breakfast I’d encounter families of Banded Mongoose frolicking around the hotel grounds. These restless creatures were everywhere with little ones constantly doing battle on the lawn. They stood in stark contrast to the baboons I passed on the path to the Falls. They were more interested in sitting around people watching as you strode by.