When we arrived, the so -called restaurant was actually a large wagon type hut, similar to what you find at car boot sales with various plastic tables tucked up against old derelict buildings for people to sit. The small road it is located on was heaving with Indians and white travelers, Paul told me to wait away from the queue, which was about a mile long, as apparently ‘I wasn’t making any sense’. I had lost the rest of the group at this point so stood alone minding my own business. As I was ‘taking it all in’ I looked to my side to see four typical traveler guys with beards pointing and talking about me. As you probably know by now, I’m not the shy and retiring type so I went up to them and was just about to ask if they had a problem (You can take the girl out of Walsall…) when I realised what I was wearing. I had been in the office all day so had on a tight black dress (suitable for the office) high heeled court shoes, my Louis Vuitton black Alma hand bag, and was queuing for a kebab, in the back streets of Mumbai, as far as they were concerned alone! To say I looked out of place was an understatement, so I changed my question to a less confrontational ‘I hope the foods worth the wait’ They all laughed and asked me what I was doing later that night. ‘MY HUSBAND AND I will probably go home’ I replied emphasizing on the ‘my husband’ part as I looked quite hot and apparently these traveler sorts aren’t used to people using soap and perfume. ‘As its 3.00am, there is hardly anywhere open locally at this time’ I continued. One of the guys then started to choke on his kebab, before I had the chance to perform the Heimlich Maneuver he spurted out ‘You live here??!!’ Slightly disappointed not to be the hero, but relieved he didn’t die, I replied in the affirmative and giggled ‘Is that so hard to believe?’ The guy panned around and nodded so hard his head nearly fell off. I cannot remember the rest of the conversation, but we were having a jolly old romp until Paul (who looked equally out of place with his designer suit) whisked me away to join the others. Our friends had found a table with a couple of broken chairs, next to a very unstable looking building surrounded by puddles of water (these puddles could have been wee) and was a perfect breeding ground for midges, mosquitoes and other biting insects. We all had a good joke that if we were going catch Malaria anywhere it was going to be here! After a fairly short time the waiter started to bring out basket upon basket of different types of kebab, someone even ordered brain (weirdo)! The food more than made up for the lack of appropriate seating and staring travelers, it was amazing (I didn’t try the brain) and exactly what was required to soak up that excess alcohol, I even got to try a ‘Thumbs Up’ which is India’s equivalent to Coke. Despite everyone telling me how amazing it was I thought it tasted like ASDA Smart Price Coke and in short I gave 'Thumbs Up' the thumbs down. I actually don’t remember the journey home so it was probably uneventful. The next day I woke up with 16 new mosquito bites on my legs, but I’m still going back and may even try the brain!!
|Look at those pearly whites!|
|My photography skills were below par on this day|
but this is supposed to be of the street
Don’t go to Geoffry’s Bar at Marine Plaza Hotel