The city, that I say, the mégapole of Mumbay, is certainly one of the most attractive cities of India. It is felt that to know it a little, it would be necessary to devote not badly time to it... In general, one does not have any. Then, one will limit oneself to essence.
To arrive at Mumbay is already from the start an experiment. The plane turns above the punctuated coastal zone of lakes and marshes, or passes from rather high on the city which one realizes then that it inordinately stretches throughout an interminable peninsula which is inserted in the sea and over there, all with the end, towards the rich districts of Colaba, rise some scrapes-ciels proud...
Then the plane plunges towards the runway, shaving with a few meters of altitude of incredible accumulations of shantytowns to the extreme edge of the end of the track. When the door of the plane opens, the touffor of the moist air attacks you and it is known that one will be hot.
Mumbay Airport is also the hinged plate of the air traffic towards innumerable cities of the country. The travellers who spend there long hours, sometimes of the nights, punctuated of éraillées advertisements, will recognize an experiment of stuffed long chair here where sleep at your sides, lengthened in all the unimaginable postures, of tens of autochtones and abroad, all welded in the trouble of waiting.
Mumbay Airport, one can also leave there (it is better besides). It is to find at once the streets with encumbered circulation and the pavements also encumbered, but people installed there with residence, with all furbished to them pauper.