Singapore & Mumbai, India...

Hello from India!

Our journey here was epic in length. We left Bangkok in the early morning, flying into Singapore, and then had an eight hour wait on our hands until our connecting flight. Luckily I found shoe shops, perfume (I haven't smelt any for 5 months, I was spritzing like a mad thing) and a cinema screening Twilight, and Danny found a rooftop bar and a wide screen sports TV, so we were happy as Larry. So Larry-esque in fact that we forgot all about our flight and had to run to the gate (which of course was the one 18 miles away from where we were) while it was closing. But we made it in time to fly out of Singapore and see the night sky lit up by hundreds of tiny weeny fireworks all over the city to celebrate Chinese New Year. It's the year of the Tiger now.

After a couple of hours of disturbed sleep we arrived in Mumbai at 3am, which for our body clocks was actually 5am, and as usual without an idea of where we would stay or what to expect (and arriving India is challenging enough when you're fresh). Still, we had a little nap in the airport until it started to get light and then caught a taxi to the Colaba area of the city where after a few tries we eventually found an overpriced twin room and collapsed, exhausted into the one bed in the room that had clean sheets.

We spent the next day exploring the city and getting used to the sights, smells and sounds of India. Read: Non-stop, relentless horns, out-of-control rickshaws and heady mix of exhaust fumes, urine, spices, incense, coconut oil, sweets, curry and jasmine. Despite it all I found exhilarated by the city; with its beautiful grand old British architecture, swaying palm trees and a balmy climate. We did the whole sightseeing circuit, checking out the huge Gateway of India, from where the British left the country in 1947, the Oval Maiden (where even on a Tuesday afternoon hundreds of Indians were playing their favourite sport, cricket, they are obsessive about it), Mumbai University, CST station and the sea front along Marine drive.

After lunch at the famous Leopold's cafe, we were walking along Colaba Causeway when we bumped into Imran Giles, a casting agent for Bollywood, who asked if we would like to be extras in a big Bollywood movie called Housefull film being made tomorrow. Being cynics (who know of far too many traveller scams) we were reluctant at first, and had plans to travel to Rajasthan the next day. But Imran was persuasive, and after checking him and the movie out on the web and reading about the experience in Lonely Planet we decided to give it a go.

At 7am the next morning we, and around 40 other western travellers (they like to include a few white faces in the movies to give them an international touch) were picked up from Colaba and driven to the film studios on the outskirts of the city near the airport. After a quick breakfast and some chai tea we dove straight into wardrobe. The first outfit I was given was a tiny scrap of a white lycra skirt what can only be described as a bondage-esque metallic blue bra top. Not quite the attire of a fashionista/Bollywood star, so I budged the Indian men (who were suggesting outfits and adjusting them to fit) out the way and selected a not-entirely-horrendous black and white dress and lace up heels. We were then lined up and looked over by the wardrobe girl who kept telling us scruffy travellers to 'Neaten your hair! No put on some heels, think SEXY, think GLAMOUR!' My pushiness paid off when she went down the line repeating 'fine, fine, change your top, fine, no, fine,' then got to me, paused (which made me panic) but then flashed me a massive smile and gave me a thumbs up. 'Perfect.' A Bollywood career beckons, methinks.

Soon it was time for us all to go on set, which was a lavish nightclub, with a 'bar' (Danny was the barman, in a black shirt and trousers with his hair slicked back), huge chandeliers, booths and a dancefloor. Unfortunately the bar props were filled with water rather than spirits (probably a good thing, my dancing may have got a little sloppy otherwise), and our 'glasses of wine' were in fact apple juice, but the kindly crew kept us hydrated with bottles of water and chai breaks.

From then on it was a case of being directed by the crew. Dancing, chatting or walking around in the background while the choreographers and professional dancers (many of whom were English or Australian girls our age who live in Mumbai working on Bollywood moves) danced their straight-out-of-an-MTV-music-video routines over and over again for the demanding, shouty, scary director. 'What is that girl doing? All I can see is her flicking her hair. Get rid of her!' More than a little mortifying in front of 200 people. The big stars, including Indian Miss World, the too-beautiful-to-look-directly-at-her Deepika Padukone and India's King of Comedy, did their thing with the help of their assistants... One of whom's job it was to put their jacket on, another to scurry after them holding their peanuts, another to immediately hold a mirror up for them the second the director yelled cut, while another sprayed oil in their hair and another coiffed their already gleaming barnets into perfection. Brilliant!

It was an incredibly long 16 hour day (for the meagre sum of 500 rupees each) but we got a great lunch, bucketfulls of chai and the most amazing insight into the Bollywood movie industry. House Full is out in about four months (May 2010), and I think we're in the trailer too, so keep your eyes peeled for our Bollywood debut.