Arriving in Mombai (Bombay - which one do you use anyway? I can never work that out...) was a shock to the system. Just the sheer amount of people. This crush of sheer humanity - it was almost overwhelming, to all senses. Smells, sounds, the whole lot. I didn't know where to look, though in the end the 'porter' trying to convince me that I needed someone to carry my bag got my attention.

Bloke called Gary on the flight had warned me about that - not to, basically. It's a con - they take your bag, then you pay through the nose to get it back. Plus, they take you to their mate who has a rickshaw and they charge you through the nose to take you wherever you want to go. One con after another. So I kept my bag and pushed my way through the crowds.

If I thought the arrivals lounge was bad, once I got to the train station, that was something else entirely. The airport was an oasis of calm compared to the streets and the station. I was horrified and fascinated all at the same time. And, honestly, dead fucking tired. In retrospect, that helped. The sheer exhaustion helped me cope with everything I saw - all I wanted was somewhere to have a shower, lay down, and get some rest. It helped me focus as I got on my train, my destination already planned out.

There were no seats left in second class - I ended up sitting on my rucksack for the entire journey. By the time I got to my hostel, I was ready to drop.