Horn OK please

That's the phrase that is painted onto the back of many of the taxis, cars and trucks that cram the roads. It seems a little odd to me that Mumbaikars should need any such encouragement as Adam and Stephen's (lovely) 12th floor flat floats above a 24 hour haze of constantly beeping horns. The driving is magnificent in its own way though - as someone who isn't keen on the activity and prefers to have at least six car lengths available before changing lanes I can't help but be impressed by the gaps that vehicles weave into.

I spent yesterday wandering Chor bazaar (lit. Thieves market) with my hosts. Brilliant little shops and stalls, each one crammed with a particular specialism; from ball bearings to kama sutra sculpture. Resisted the opportunity to buy a genuine 19th Century "British Unaited" clock, or a roof*.

Last night I had a bit of a Research Councils Re-united moment**. By chance Mel (who is about to start in the RCUK Delhi office) and Rebecca (who used to work there and is now in Bangalore) were both in Mumbai this weekend with their boyfriends. So the seven of us met up for dinner and drinks and we ended the evening in 'The Ghetto Bar'. General ambience? Low rent grunge. Decor? Green UV walls with black marker pen graffiti. Soundtrack? Endless soft rock classics. Staff? Waiters in white shirts, black waistcoats and bowties...naturally.



*All tiled and ready to go, if only I had room in my backpack.
**You think that going four and a half thousand miles away from Swindon is good enough, but no...