Parsi Pitstop

I realize that I am taking a big chance in using two words beginning with the letter 'P' so early on into this blog, but what the heck, I'm in India right?

Go for the gusto!!

Yesterday morning I had purposed in my heart to find a coffee shop which would brew and serve me the kind of coffee that doesn't come powder from a jar.
It was during that quest that i realized I had become hopelessly lost in this city of millions and decided to make the best of it. Since my hotel is right across the street from the largest train station on the Asian continent, I had only ask the nearest non-English speaking person "Victoria Station?" or "CST?" and I would be pointed in exactly the right direction day or night. So off I went.

My first stop was CST herself. Some 2.5 million people pass through her hallowed portals daily; inbound in the morning and outbound in the evening. I visited after the morning rush. Any earlier and it would have been far too intimidating for this tall bald white boy from the states. I remember my first walk around the block had been like a salmon trying to swim upstream. Today I was looking for glimpses of the station that I had not seen anywhere else before. Not the big wide frame accounts taking in the entire magnificent, gaudy, wonderful structure but views of the ornate detail that it possesses. Of course there were still people riding in and riding out...mainly riding in, hanging from open car doors, standing poised to jump off at the first safe moment. I am so going to take the train :)

While some of the kids that I have picked me out of a crowd were following me down the street, touching my arm and begging for a hand out, most of the ones in this area are happy and outgoing. These two ran up, gave me 5 and posed for this snap in from of a large truck in the CST parking lot. As I was counting to 'three' you can see they were willing to help me out with that.

Taking a turn down one of the side streets I found myself in a maze of alleys which were lined with electronics shops, paper cutters, bakeries, travel agents, etc, etc etc. Mixed in with these were the fruit and clothing wallahs selling their fare from neat, well stocked baskets and shelve in organized rows on the street itself. The store fronts are mere thin, long spaces on the ground floor of these old buildings which have been 'outfitted' to accommodate the particular merchant inhabiting it. The contrast of legitimate business (as far as I could tell) to dirty, unkept, run-down facilities and surroundings was interesting. paint has a hard time in this environment. Most of the buildings look at if they are moldy, and in need of a lot of paint. They need paint but it isn't mold, its dirt and dust blown in from the Arabian Sea. It makes keeping the place presentable enough for western sensibilities a little rough.

Rambling around in this environment was fun and a little weird while alone. I would have felt a little more purposeful with a friend, especially a local but alas they were all working (the nerve) so I had to make due. Coming across a phone outlet I inquired about a phone and an Indian SIM so I could stay in touch while here for these three weeks. Gathering information I excused myself and kept my aimless quest until I rounded a corner and beheld Ideal Corner, a restaurant with the tag line 'Parsi Cuisine & More'. The place was immaculate. No patrons however so I stuck my head in to ask if they were open. The friendly owner said yes and so I took a seat by the window. The food was superb, Hot Garlic Chicken with Chicken Fried Rice (must have been the 'more' part of the tag line). While there I noticed how uncharacteristically clean the place was. That and it was smartly decorated with bright colors, hip lights and ceiling fans. I was there about 4:40 and they closed for the day at 6 PM, so the staff was dusting tables, chairs, fans, everything. I was impressed.