2nd day Thursday november13th 11am We unload my bags from the taxi,I give him the 750 rupees fare from the airport about £12 I was told at the airport to just pay the fare,no more,he looks at the cash then at me he turns his palms upwards and says nothing else,is that it so I say what do you want do you want me to kiss you,he says no kiss more money so I give him an extra 100 he still looks at me,so I say that’s it enough its more than a ten percent tip don,t be greedy so he smiles gets in his taxi waves and drives off. I,m surrounded by a legion of bellboys squabbling to take my bags to my room for 10 rupees a bag. I check in at reception on the 5th floor they show me to a room after they have all gone and shut the door I sit on the bed and look around I discover theres no window on further inspection I discover theres no toilet or shower fuck is this what you get in Bombay for 50 quid a night.I,m exhausted its 12 noon Bombay time but for me its 6am London time,I lay down on the bed and fall asleep.I wake up to find someone shaking my arm I look up to see an Indian man.wake up sir we change rooms now,without answering him I follow him down the corridor to another room he,s carrying all my stuff,so after giving him the obligatory 10 rupees I look around well this room is slightly better,it has a shower,toilet and sink and A/C but its no bigger and still no window,it feels like I,m in a prison cell a single bed a chair a coffee table a dressing table and a rickety wardrobe with bent metal hangers it feels like 1950s England in black and white the one attempt at decoration is a small picture on the wall which you would struggle to get 20p for in a charity shop.I look at the clock it says 6pm I,m thinking do I go back to sleep or what so I order a pot of tea from room service have a fag and think no I,ll have a little look at Bombay.I go up to the roof,to call it a roof terrace or roof garden would be too grand its just the roof.. I look over the parapet at the street below its seems like Bombay,s in full swing,the six lane highway down there is chock full of traffic and the wide pavements full of moochers,I can hear it and smell it from six floors up.I take the lift down to the ground floor,it,s one of the old fashioned ones with a lift boy I give him a 10 rupee note as I get out then another note to the doorman I,ve got a wad of small notes in my pocket that I changed at the airport. I was hoping to find a bar or restaurant with tables outside where I could drink beer and smoke cigarettes like I,ve sat at in france and spain italy and Greece but as I was to find out no such place exists in Bombay you cant smoke in the restaurants and they don,t have tables outside .Shit just my luck,I,ve come to the wrong country or maybe the wrong continent.I discovered later that the Indian government bought out its draconian anti smoking laws in October of this year the law says smoking and spitting is strictly forbidden in all public places and that includes the parks and the streets.So you can only spit and smoke at home it does seem that they regard smoking on the street the same as gobbing so as I,m walking down the street with everyone looking at me i don,t know if its cos I,s white or if its cos I,s smoking.