You total idiot?

Hello all.

Well I'm in Mumbai.

The flight worked out fine. Spent my Leeds to London making some South African consultant very jealous. Then spent the Heathrow to Mumbai flight trying my best to keep my cool. I was doing ok, but the very fact that I did not manage to get a wink of sleep might have betrayed that somewhat. I got to Mumbai, booked a taxi and had my first opportunity to haggle which went reasonably well, but then I went and tipped the driver fairly handsomely and cocked the whole thing right up. I suppose I felt sorry for the guy - he'd just driven me 25km through a pretty hairy main road, past about 15km of horrific slums and into the relatively posh bit where (after a few directions) he managed to find my hotel. Still, I guess when I'm gonna be using these services a lot, alongside the fact that I have a budget, I should probably get used to being fairly hardfaced about the whole thing.

After arriving at my ridiculously over-priced hotel (I booked online) I laid my head down on my bed, totally exhausted, having just witnessed the most horrific poverty I've ever seen in real life, and said to myself "what the fuck am I doing?" I think I might have said this a few times. Perhaps a hundred. After a little while, I ventured out to get some water (lesson learned - they have shit loads in the hotel) and I got to experience some hardcore monsoon rain. It was quite bizarre watching an entire road go about its daily business, but just under a torrent of rain.

Anyway, I'm becoming increasingly aware that my blow by blow account might not be of too much interest.

All I will say is bear with me. There's a lot to take in. I'm still just a bit freaked out to be honest.

After a quick nap, I decided that food was necessary plus I was desperate for some company. I wandered over to the place the Lonely Planet dutifully informed me was the "tourist hangout" and on the way I finally saw some white faces. Now, don't take that the wrong way. I can hear your inner monologue saying "Dan, do it properly, mix with locals, blend in." That is quite easier said than done. On day one when every single Indian person who I had encountered had either tried to rip me off, sell me 'hash', make me get in a taxi, ask me where I'm staying or generally try to offload some spare child onto me - I was quite desperate for some friendly faces.

Which I found! Two white girls walked past and I put my charity mugging to good use by asking if they spoke English. They were Welsh, and were naturally deeply offended that I assumed they were English.

Anyway, I went for some tandoori chicken with them and I can't imagine what kind of jetlagged, fresh-faced, scared-looking, naive novice I must have seemed. They kept saying I was "brave" to do it on my own. This did not help me sleep. In fact, following a brief conversation with my parents on return to the hotel, I was finding it very difficult to sleep. I couldn't help thinking "brave" meant "you fucking idiot!"

However, today picks up. It is not raining and is nearly bearable. I found a lad from Manchester called Paul who is accompanying me for the day.

The smog is making me cough. I'm not sure how long I want to be in the city.

Right, I'm gonna dash. God travel blogs are boring.

How is everyone?