My flight is at 11:50am, and it should take about an hour to get to the airport. With the issues at the airport I give myself an extra half an hour and book my taxi for 8:30am. Bags packed, Beth accompanies me downstairs and we have a slightly teary goodbye, we already know that we'll be seeing each other the following Sunday in Mumbai otherwise we might've been awkwardly emotional. I make it to the airport in good time and end up having hours to kill. Whilst sitting in the departure lounge I find the note that Beth has written me. (She had been bought an alternative travel journal. One of the pages in the book had the title ‘write a note to a travel friend on this page, tear it out, and put it in their bag for them to find’. When we were in Alleppey, at the home stay, I had said to Beth jokingly ‘you better put this in my bag’. And she did). The stupid note made me get all choked up in the middle of the departure lounge, sat there alone. 

My flight was short and uneventful. Mumbai airport is clean and bright. The baggage carousel was funny; typical Indian pushing and barging. It goes against everything I've been taught- to stand with my elbows out pushing to the front of other people, aware that I'm obstructing people's views and making it difficult for them to collect their belongings, all the while taking up a load more space for my enormous trolley. Nevertheless, I grab my bag and make my way to the prepaid taxi stand, and go to Nina’s aunts to grab the key to Nina’s apartment. 

Getting into the apartment block is effort. There's a guard at the main entrance and I have to show him the address on my phone over and over, but his English is as extensive as my Hindi…or maybe he's speaking Marathi? I have no idea. Once I've gotten past this guard I find the apartment block and there's a second guard at the elevator. There's a repetition of my encounter with the first guard, this guy however decides to accompany me to the door. Nisha and Nina’s Aunt is adorable. She opens the door, nods to guard that she is expecting me and I go inside. There are beautiful views from all windows. From her living room a beautiful mosque and from her kitchen, the sea. Her flat is spotless, although the décor is a little dated- apparently she's just refurbished! She insists I drink some mango juice and we try to chat. I'm berated for not being able to speak Hindi and she orders me a tuc tuc to take me up the hill to Nina's apartment. 

I decide when I get to Nina's apartment that I'm just going to walk in to the complex like I own the place. It works on the guard at the gate. The guard at elevator tries to stop me and I hold up the keys and I'm sent on my way. 

I step out the elevator and see four elevators. None of which are numbered. But then I heard the familiar sound of dogs sniffing under doorways and know immediately which flat is going to be my home for the week. I unlock the door and three small dogs come bounding out, sniffing, barking, licking, tail wagging. Zara, Oscar and Oliver. They're all so cute. Zara would make a terrible guard dog, she just licks you to death. Oscar isn't initially very trusting and keeps his distance, whereas Oliver jumps on my lap and is 100% top dog. 

Nina's flat is currently being renovated so the walls in the living room are bare, with wiring exposed, walls covered in chunks of plaster, disconnected air conditioning and there's scaffolding on the outside of the floor to ceiling windows. The kitchen is to the right of the front door. The bedroom and bathroom come off the living room. Nina's bedroom is lovely and cool with an enormous bed, fitted wardrobes and a large flat screen TV on a stand facing the bed. When the renovation is done, it's going to look beautiful. But the work has been taking a while and there's another month or so left. She can't continue with the inside until the outside has been finished. 

Puppy cuddles out of my system, I wash my clothes IN A WASHING MACHINE WITH FABRIC CONDITIONER and get in the shower. A shower with a door and numerous heads jetting water in every direction, with a similar amount of taps which resulted in a short while of trial and error until I had the correct jets at the right temperature. 

Clothes getting their first proper clean and me getting my first proper clean in weeks I head out for a walk. It's 3pm and its hot. I walk down the hill and recognise the area from photos on the wall in Nisha’s apartment in Walton. I spend a few hours aimlessly wandering, sauntering through residential areas and then walking all along the bandstand promenade watching the sunset. I reach Taj, Lands End hotel and do a U-Turn, it's getting dark so I jump in a tuc tuc. The driver has no idea what I'm saying and stops to ask four people to translate what I'm saying ‘SALT WATER CAFÉ’. It's a restaurant that Nisha loves and the only restaurant name I knew. The locals, about 50% of the people I've encountered in Mumbai speak English, all repeat what I'm saying, in English with a Mumbai accent and he still doesn't know. Hot and bothered I tell him not to worry and I walk in the direction of the flat. I see a Coffee Café Day, grab a frappucino, and carry on walking. As I reach the corner I see Salt Water Café, the driver was so close to it and he had no idea. Strangely though, in what I've experienced, tuc tuc drivers have better basic English understanding than the taxi drivers. 

As I approach Nina's apartment building I can see her walking the dogs. We discuss dinner options and as if she read my mind, she suggests take away. We order Dominos and eat in bed and sleep.