Mumbai II, India...

And so, after six months on the road, it was time to start the long journey home. We took the Konkankanya express from Goa and arrived back in Mumbai at 6am, and with the help of a friendly, commission-seeking Indian guy, found a bed in the (by Mumbai standards) pristine Sea Shore hotel in Colaba, near the Taj Palace Hotel and Gateway of India.

I hadn't been looking forward to going back to the city, but after a sleep we headed out into the 38 degree heat and I instantly fell back in love with Bombay. I still can't put my finger on what it is about this city, but it has worked magic on me. This time around it felt familiar, and even friendlier and I'm sure it's all about mindset but we just seemed to blend more. Probably because we were more relaxed, so everyone around us was more relaxed. We had an amazing lunch in the air conditioned and very fancy oasis of Basilico on Arthur Bunder Road, before picking up a couple of hookah pipes and finally heading to Fabindia for some last minute shopping. We spent the night cramming 6 months worth of shopping into our bulging backpacks, and mentally preparing to come home.

I think both of us felt ready. While we were away we only met 3 people who were travelling for a full year, the average time seemed to be two or three months, and if it was longer they had generally stayed put in one place and worked for a while. Most people thought six months of constantly being on the road was a long trip, and looking back I think they're right. The first two months were unbridled excitement, months three and four were harder because the homesickness had kicked in a little, and the last two months were incredible because India was so exciting everyday, and also probably because we knew we would be home soon, so we had to enjoy every last minute. We covered so much ground on this trip that I doubt I will feel the need to go away for such a long time again, maybe a month here and a month there. You can also always have too much of a good thing. Had we done a year I think I would have got to the point where if I'd seen the hanging gardens of Babylon I would've said, 'Hmm, yeah, quite nice.'

So, soon it was time for the cab to pick us up at 8am the next morning to take us to the airport, and we drove through the city streets saying a final goodbye to Bombay and watching all of India go by. The British colonial architecture and the crumbling, high rise blocks. The endless sprawl of Dharavi, the world's biggest slum (where Slumdog Millionaire was filmed), and the women who live there walking their immaculately dressed children to school. The sunny old tree lined streets of Colaba which feel like they could be in London. The stench of the docks and the markets and the beauty of Marine drive and Chowpatty beach. The bright lights of Bollywood and the cocktail bars and coffee shops. The Hindu offerings and the piles of litter. The ragpickers and holy sadhus. The lepers and the stray dogs. The businessmen and the glamorous young Indian girls in their salwar kameez and designer sunglasses. It's so strange to think that it's all still going on even when you're not there. It feels like it was another planet. And I miss it everyday.