Bombay and Burns

Just returned from four days in Bombay.  Interestingly, most of the people I met called it Bombay rather than Mumbai, which relates to the history of the place.  Apparently "Bombay" is the Portuguese for "good bay", the very bay that I was looking out on from my hotel window.  

The last time I was there was in 2008, before the terrorist attack, which had a profound effect on the city.  One of the lasting effects is the focus on security.  All hotel entrances have set up security details - cars and taxis are stopped and searched at the entrance from the road and bags are scanned and tagged on the way in. The same happened in the cinema I went to and seems to be true of the shopping malls also.  A sad reflection on an amazing city. 

I had the best time this trip.  People say that it's important to approach India with an open mind, and I saw the wisdom of that advice last week.  Of course there are things that shock the western eye, but there is so much that is glorious, colourful, ancient, modern and exciting about Bombay that it would be foolish to judge everything we see by the standards of what we are used to.  OK, sermon over.

One of the reasons I had such a great time was because of staying over to participate in the Bombay marathon.  Now don't fall off your chair, those of you who know me, I didn't run the marathon marathon, but what they call the "Dream Run", more of a dream walk, fortunately for me, since so many people participate in this 6km event, that running is well high impossible.  The weather was beautiful, the streets were a sea of blue and green (the race is sponsored by Standard Chartered and those are our company colours) and we were served Indian food for breakfast - truly one of my favourite things.  In fact, I was introduced to a new street food item at the marathon, something called a Frankie.  Frankies are the quintessential Bombay street food - a sort of Indian version of the wrap - and the finished article is sprinkled with a masala powder that is sort of hot and bitter and absolutely delicious. If you find yourself faced with a Frankie opportunity, grab it, I say. 

The Dream Run started at the main railway station, known pretty much universally as "VT",  for Victoria Terminus.  It was named after Queen Victoria and opened in 1887, her Golden Jubilee Year.  Its name now is Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus, usually shortened to CST, but whenever I heard its name mentioned, it was always called VT.  Here is a picture of VT by night - the epitome of Victorian public architecture.

Before I went to India, Chris and I had planned our Burns Supper.  The Scots among my readers (and Steve, who has a Scottish soul) will know all about this, but for those of you who were not born with that advantage in life, let me explain.  Scots around celebrate the birth of our most famous poet on or around his birthday, January 25th.  That celebration takes the form of a fairly ritualised dinner, with prescribed food, speeches and readings.  The food include haggis, of course, with a vegetarian version of my national dish for me.  Having spent the morning on a nature trek in Pulau Ubin (more of which in subsequent post), I dashed home to spend the afternoon in the kitchen, cooking up neeps and tatties to go with the haggis, cullen skink (a rather yummy fish soup) and tipsy laird (a version of trifle, featuring raspberries and, of course, whisky).

We had a great evening, and the haggis proved a great hit with our guests (I never touch the stuff myself).  The poetry readings proved a teensy bit challenging for everyone whose first language was not 18th century Scots.  I wonder why?  Here's a taste for you to get your tongue round, from the address to the haggis:

Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,

Great chieftain o' the puddin-race!

Aboon them a' ye tak your place,

Painch, tripe, or thairm

What could be easier?