The Dhobi ghat is a massive open air laundry where hundreds of Dhobi (the traditional washermen) live and work. We heard that it was pretty easy to check out, so we got off the train at Mahalaxmi station to see what we could find. We didn’t have to look far! Men with rolled up pant
India is a shocking place, which may be why I LOVE IT. It really is that filthy, it really is that colorful, it really is that poor or that rich. I’ve already accepted that I won’t be clean for another two months. After five minutes in the mugggy Mumbai monsoon, your clothes are damp and
The breakdown was bound to happen, it was just a matter of time. What could not have been expected was the side trip to the slum, the instant fame that we would undeservedly receive or the insane ride through Pune rush hour traffic pushing the ‘Shaw to it’s final resting place. For this we lost
India is a damn crazy place to drive. At first glance it appears that there are absolutely no rules, it’s pure chaos. You quickly come to realize that there are rules and they’re purely based on size and speed. You can pass anyone, anywhere, at anytime as long as they’re moving a tiny bit slower
In India one of the first things you must adjust to is the level of shit: cow shit, garbage on the street, the waft of urine from the slums as you deboard the plane in Mumbai. It seemed appropriate, given the massive amount of shit in India, that we drive the ultimate piece of shit
Yes, it’s raining during monsoon season in Goa. Shocking. It’s more of a light drizzle than the downpour we’ve heard so much about. In between showers the air is warm and the sea breeze blows away any remaining humidity. It’s so lovely, so calm and peaceful that we wonder if we’re in India at all!