And just like that, like no time had passed in between, we turned the key and jumped straight back into Mumbai headfirst. Determined to keep our promise and pick up where we’d left off, here we are this time in Bandra – a sophisticated, sexy, understated part of town in the capital city’s west, and at the epicentre of all things chic, luxurious and cool. With four days to kill before making our way down south to Kerala, this time we’re dialling exploring up a notch and really getting down and dirty with what this city’s got to offer.

First things first. Food. And we found Birdsong down a maze of unassuming lanes – a gorgeous, unpretentious café tucked down a quiet little midtown alley, perfect for watching the Monday morning bustle unfold before its gigantic shopfront windows. Over a simple breakfast of roti and south Indian chicken curry, washed down with watermelon juice and deliciously sweet hot coffee, we contemplated whether this was the Mumbai we remembered, or a different beast altogether.

During the two years since we were here there’s been a big drive to clean up Mumbai and it shows. Not a plastic bag in sight – and at every turn someone with a bucket, scrubbing brush, broom or sponge, everyone doing their bit to make a difference and help save the planet. The tempo has turned down a bit too, with only a handful of questions about money for food or whether hashish was on our shopping list.

By far one of the biggest highlights this early on, and perhaps the most special, was the chance to see Jit’s grandmother’s cousin again, this time travelling to see him in his home village, about a two hour drive to Kalyan in the north east outskirts of Mumbai. We’d launched into the day with a simple start of masala dosa and aloo paratha with yoghurt and spiced pickles, then jumped in the back of an Uber for the first of what will be many exhilarating (but cost effective – this one only 800 rupees, an easy $18NZD) road trips.

We arrived at Nanu’s home in Mohone at around 2pm, with him standing on the side of the road to greet us, waving us in to a small enclave on the edge of a dusty cluster of municipal shops and high risers, each about six or seven storeys high and home to five or six families on each floor.

After warm welcomes, and introductions to his wife, daughter-in-law and granddaughter, we were served the most beautiful traditional home-cooked banquet – a feast which never seemed to end and would have been hours in the making. After lunch we were taken by tuk-tuk to see the hospital where Jit’s dad was born, the house he grew up in and where he had gone to school. Once a thriving area, the gated community having been established 70 years ago by a corporation for its factory employees, here it now stood lonely and empty, abandoned and completely overgrown. It was fascinating and remote which of course meant many photos to be taken with the blonde non Indian lady visiting from New Zealand, where the Indian royal family – the national cricket team – were soon to be heading. There was much local excitement about each of the match fixtures around the North and South Islands!

The next day, after exploring the markets of Linking Road and the street art of Chapel Street, we headed back to Colaba, an edgier part of town and a neck of the woods where we knew we were likely to run into some-kind-of-something happening that would reel us back in. And we weren’t wrong. Still heaving with tourists (though definitely fewer than we’d seen last time), and still lots of streetwise dogs and cats weaving in and out of shop doorways and across footpaths, here was where the boutiques, markets, bars and restaurants beckoned – and delivered! We’ve become obsessed with rooftop bars, the wow factor when stepping out of an elevator or stairwell onto any given terrace with a cityscape to die for just too intoxicating to give up.

Towards the end of the last day in Colaba I had my first heartbreaking moment. I burst into tears when we turned a corner and came across an elderly dog on his last legs (literally), covered in weeping wounds, and just looking dreadfully close to the end. Having called the animal ambulance about coming to rescue him from his plight we were approached by a lady who’s been keeping an eye on him – a paediatric dentist with her clinic just across the street. She told us his name was Raja (meaning ‘King of the Road’), and although he wasn’t looking in the best shape, he’d been around forever and was actually recovering from surgery for his troubles. He loved fish, and she spent most days shooing the crows from his bowl so he could get his nutrients.

And this is how we solved Mumbai. A place where you’ll always be confronted by these heart-stopping moments, when everything is just confusing and conflicting and then in the blink of an eye you understand, have perspective, and quickly move on to whatever comes flying at you in the next breath. There’s incredible kindness, hospitality and generosity and yet so much desperation, and wealth. It really does hurt your heart and turn you inside out again and again.

But the adventure had only just begun, and early the next morning we headed straight to the airport for our flight to Goa. Security was tight because of Republic Day and big delays were expected due to traffic. But after more than a few cold ‘premium’ Kingfishers in the terminal we were well on our way to happiness and anticipating what lay ahead.

We didn’t quite know what to expect but landing in Goa truly felt like here we finally are! Back in the real and proper India, the part we just love so much with its long red dirt roads, beaches, musk and stifling heat. And we absolutely knew this was where the trip was really going to begin when smack-bang in the middle of Dabolim Airport, straight off the tarmac, we bumped into Ishan – not only one of the best up-and-coming men’s fashion designers India’s ever had to give up to the USA, but the very guy whose fashion shoot was unfolding in the grounds of the haveli in Mandawa the last time we were here. It just had to be the work of the lucky white rat from Bikaner, sending us a sign that good fortune was on its way – and in Goa from Philadelphia for only a few short days ahead of his next shoot in Mumbai, what were the odds. It was the strangest, random thing and we were over the moon to see Ishan after the gap in between.

We thought we’d also been pretty lucky to find a fairly cheap cab that would take us on the three hour trip from the airport to Gokarna – the very beginning of our zig-zagging down the south western coast of India. But straight out of the blocks it was clear this was going to be quite the ordeal – overtaking trucks and buses and bikes in a beaten up Suzuki Swift, with quarter of a million kms on the clock and a shattered wing mirror. We were instantly reminded of the seat-gripping toe-curling backseat experiences we’d had before in Rajasthan and quickly resolved this would again be the first of many.  

So after a fairly comprehensive yet unanticipated tour of the surrounding hill area, and eventually admitting defeat, it came as no surprise when the driver suddenly announced we were lost and we needed to send for help. After a short wait on the side of the road, in the pitch black, a small jeep big enough for three soon appeared out of the jungle clearing, whisking us away into the dead of night, and catapulting us into the most extraordinary of places – a place so spectacular and special, we simply cannot believe such an astonishingly beautiful location exists.

We entered through the great hulking estate gates which magically opened before us in the headlights, and drove up to the main house towering above the sprawling 20 acre tropical and immaculately manicured gardens. Welcomed by Vicky and his staff with a cool, refreshing coconut water and beautiful fragrant jasmine gajra gently tied round our wrists as a symbol of auspiciousness and prosperity, we were ushered down to our room to freshen up for dinner with the six other guests (three couples – two from just outside London, and one from Belfast) in a beautiful open-air pavilion.

The meal was to die for – Goan coconut fish curry with a simple tomato and cucumber salad and poppadom, and our old favourite, the Maharashtran sauvignon blanc from the last trip – and having made introductions and run through the details of each others’ itineraries, Jit and I both agree we think we’ve landed right in the middle of an Agatha Christie whodunnit, or a weirdly contemporary episode of Downton Abbey – the characters all here – each bold and colourful and larger than life in their own right, including the ever-suffering grand English dames, and cheeky Irish doctor who effortlessly had us in absolute stitches – his sharp, wry wit second to none. And the scene all unfolding under the watchful eyes of two brahminy kites (of the eagle family), a husband and wife team circling overhead in search of prey for their chicks!

Late this afternoon, as we sipped on ice-cold Kingfishers to ward off the beating hot sun’s heat, great excitement unfolded as a group of monkeys made their way through the garden, with the estate’s general manager – a four year old beagle called Axle – swiftly and loudly in pursuit. When staff soon appeared with air rifles things seemed about to get ugly, but Axle ensured the monkeys swaggered off to better things. All while the kites are sweeping and swooping across the jungle skyline!

Tomorrow we’ll visit nearby Paradise Beach (which is at the end of a long pebbled trail just a stones throw from the edge of the estate), the local town, and with it being 36 degrees in the peak of the afternoon it goes without saying that our bottle of duty free Botanist will simply evaporate beside the pool before we can even say “pinch me”. Stay tuned.