3 km before we hit the first ferry station, someone tells us that we picked the wrong one and had to go to the other station - which means another 15 km. It is boiling hot and we are swearing and sweating. After one more hour on dirt roads and over hills we finally arrive at the right ferry station. We are lucky, she is about to leave the station. As we are heaving our heavy loads on board, they tell us that this ferry is not leaving for Mumbai. I can feel my adrenaline rising and really have to pull myself together to not have a fit right there. Sweetly they let us know that the Mumbai ferry is leaving from the other side, which was exactly where we came from. With gritted teeth we ride our bikes back to the first ferry station. After 43 km we are reaching the ferry and hold our tickets, 18 Rupies each, in hands. The ferry can not land right at the pier, so we have to carry the bikes and the baggage via two boats. Finally it's done, everything is on board, when an old man with no teeth demands 100 Rupies for the bikes. This is daylight robbery! I look at the old cutthroat and think of ways to kill him. The ferry has already left for Mumbai but the toothless guy is still insisting. I offer him 50 Rupies and he is disgusted. So I take my money, turn my back to him and ignore him. After 15 minutes he comes back and keeps bugging me. Again I offer him the 50 Rupies and tell him that this is his last chance. He grabs the bill and is visibly satisfied. I do understand that these guys try to earn some additional money, all I'm asking for is a bit moderation. Mumbai has the highest average daily income in India: 134 Rupies (= 2,43 Euro), a triple of the nationwide average.

From far away we can see Mumbais skyline. Above it there is a large pall of smog. Alongside oil tankers and cruise ships we approach the "Gateway of India", Mumbai's landmark. It really is an impressive sight. You can see thousands of people walking on the boardwalk, waiting for the sunset. Right behind the Gateway of India there is the Taj Mahal Palace, where a room costs 500 US-Dollars per night. Just a few months ago many people were killed in a bomb attack in this hotel. So now we are here in Mumbai and we don't really know where to go. Where the hell are we supposed to spend the night in one of the most expensive cities of the world? Just then two slightly sleazy looking boys address us. For a few Rupies they promise to help us find a low priced accommodation. We found their first offers with 1500 and 3500 Rupies way too expensive, besides they have no room for our bikes. We slowly loose faith in their talent to find us a nice and simple bed, when suddenly we find ourselves in front of the "Salvations Army Red Shield Hostel". The "director" who is also responsible for the rooming arrangements, lets us know that they are fully booked, but somehow I don't believe him. I'm closing his office door behind me and try to explain that we travel his country by bike, that we do not have much money to spend and that he is the only one who can help tonight. I think he quite likes his position of power, so he leans back and offers me with a smile a tripple-bed-room for 600 Rupies incl. breakfast. We can take this room until another reservation for it comes in. I was so relieved I almost hugged him. We have a room right behind the heavily guarded "Taj Mahal Palace", and a large part of downtown is within walking distance.

Now we are in the middle of this metropolis with 17 Million residents, a city of superlatives with a population density of 29.000 Residents per square kilometre. There are 40.000 traditional black oldtimer-taxis and the station 'Chhattapati Shiraji' has an unbelievable visitor frequency of 2,5 Mio. people per day! This must be a new record for Elke and myself. I am tempted to compare Mumbai with Manila or Bangkok. You either hate these cities or you love them. The next morning a babble of voices wakes us up. We had not known that the students were allowed to use the common shower rooms at the salvation army. After breakfast of an hard boiled egg that didn't go well with my stomach, we start to explore the city. Elke brings a city map with the most famous landmarks and the nicest places of Mumbai. We are passing the "Royal Mumbai Yacht Club" and approach the "Regal Circle" that offers a great view on the surrounding buildings. Below is the old "Sailors Home" built in 1876, nowadays the police headquarter. We follow the "Mahatma Gandhi Road" and pass the beautifully restored frontages of the "Institute of Science" on the way. Vis-a-Vis there is the impressive "Prince of Wales Museum", a grand building that you can admire best from the front yard. We pass libraries, museums, synagogues, the "St. Thomas Cathedral" and the University of Mumbai and reach the other side of the peninsula after 3,5 hours. From far we can see a beach. Initially I toy with the idea of going swimming, but when we get closer, the sight takes our breath away. We see black, stinking liquid pouring out from numerous huge waste pipes into the ocean. Less than a 100 meters away there are fishing men trying to catch fish in this toxic brew. The beach is littered with paper and plastic waste, in the middle people in rags and tatters, looking for something to eat. "I have enough" - I'm saying to Elke, this is supposed to be the tourist route? Then let's have a look at how people really live here.

We throw away the city map and turn into a side street with no orientation. We approach a railroad crossing above 8 meters high and leading across 10 rails. We stop in the middle to watch the passing trains. he trains are packed far beyond their limit and there are clouds of people are hanging outside, just merely holding on to the window bars. On both sides of the rails we can see families which have build miserable shantys without water supply, let alone restrooms. We continue to walk through very lively narrow alleys. We come across street vendors, shoeshine boys, crippled beggars and water vendors who try to make their way through cows, dogs and honking mopeds and cars. I suggest to take a break and stop for a bite to eat or for a drink. In front of the first OK-looking chai-café we come across we see a sign that says "Do not spit", and surprisingly almost nobody does. That is easily recognizible on the housewall next door where people leave their spit every few minutes. Without words we skip the chai. When we finally finish our our "city sightseeing tour" late in the afternoon we are exhausted and unnerved.

We are having coffee and try to deal with the things we had seen. After taking a shower, we walk to the colourful "Colaba Market". There are fruit- and vegetable boothes next to jewelry shops and there also is a night market. We enjoy a freshly squeezed mango juice and then decide to have diner in a very clean muslim restaurant. We have freshly baked garlic bread, vegetable samosas and goat cream cheese. The main course is red lentils with potatoes and for dessert there is joghurt with fruit salad. On our way back we pass some movie theatres that show the beloved, indian Bollywood-movies. Mumbai is the glittering epicentre of indias gigantic hindi speaking movie industrie. Bollywood releases more than 900 movies per year, far more than any other city in the world. In almost every restaurant, bar and home, even in the shabbiest hut, these unrealistic and schmaltzy films are running non stop. The night owls are out - we hear loud music from discos and night clubs, young people are dancing until the wee hours. I wake up the next morning before sunrise. I dress quietly and tiptoe out of the hotel. It's still grey outside, with long palm leafs the road cleaners sweep together small piles of litter, to set them on fire afterwards. Acid plastic fumes are in the air. I see families with half naked children sleeping on the sidewalks, covered with plastic covers. Above them huge billboards showing India's Lifestyle: good looking people, laughing on the phone or moving into their new homes or getting into their new cars. I'm stunned and close to tears and I'm asking myself "what kind of world are we living in?" When I return to the hotel, my friend and boss of the salvation army tells me that he has a reservation for our room, so we'll have to leave tomorrow. We are packing and prepare to leave. At 6 o' clock we want to start. We both know what is ahead of us, but neither of us wants to talk about it ...

The road leads more than 80 kilometers northbound right through the endless slums and out of this city. 55% of the 17 Mio. residents live in the slums outside Mumbai and we have to take the road right through. It's hard to find words for what we see this morning, but both of us are sure that we will never forget the degrading living conditions of these poor people. Elke is riding like hell. I can feel that she wants nothing more than to leave this misery and chaos behind. As I'm riding in the scalding heat and try to sum up what we had seen these last 3 days, I think of a very accurate description I once read in Lonely Planet: "Take one part Hollywood, six parts traffic and a couple of rich power moguls. Mix with half a dozen colonial relicts and add six cups of poverty, add some bars and restaurants, not to forget chaos and order in equal parts. Complete with lots of ancient bazaars and season with a handful hinduism and a pinch of islam. Then fold in elements from all parts of India and through all this in a blender with a generous dose of pollution. Mix at highest speed and you get - Mumbai