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West meets east in India

THERE'S a friendliness and energy in Mumbai – India's biggest and most international city – that makes it worth visiting, writes Carol Pucci.

Striking ... The Taj Mahal Palace hotel in Mumbai, India.
Striking ... The Taj Mahal Palace hotel in Mumbai, India.

"WHAT country?" asked the man chopping coconuts behind the Oberoi Hotel on the Mumbai seafront.

"USA,'' I said, as he handed us a coconut and two straws.

"Ahh . . . Mr Bush . . . bad man, bad for Muslims. Afghanistan lost. Iraq lost.''

Then he looked up at me, smiled and handed me a little plastic bag of coconut slices to take with me – a gift for a Westerner.

American foreign policy isn't popular around the world, but Indians seem to love Americans, and in Mumbai, India's biggest and most international city, there's a friendliness that seems refreshingly out of place.

With just a day to spend, we're sticking mainly to a neighbourhood called Colaba, on the southernmost peninsula that has great shopping, good hotels and is within walking distance or a short cab ride of the waterfront, the Taj Mahal Palace Hotel and major art galleries and museums.

Mumbai is not for everyone, but it seems less spread out, much less hectic and more walkable than Delhi, with better shopping and hotels.

Travellers to Mumbai will be confronted by people living in disturbing conditions. Mumbai has some of India's worst slums, but they are not in areas where tourists normally wander.

After dinner with some Indian friends, we walked to the Gateway of India on the waterfront, a favourite spot for locals and tourists. A boy lay motionless, face-down on the pavement. He may have been sleeping, but he looked as if he wasn't breathing. People walked around him as if he wasn't there.

Women with babies in their arms sit on the kerb outside our hotel, begging. Several families have made homes under the porticos of a crumbling Victorian-style building.

These are disturbing scenes, and not to be taken for granted. Yet here in Colaba, at least, Mumbai pulses with an energy I didn't feel in Delhi.

Three-wheeled auto rickshaws are banned and there are no cows on the road.

I bought some gifts at a government shop – the Central Cottage Industries Emporium.

A few blocks away from our hotel are a Hindu temple and a Muslim mosque.

There's a Koran in the drawer in our room and a prayer rug in the closet.

The Sunday Times

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