The ultimately free man is the Wise man, but he’s lonely.
(Tristan Raoult)

Now that I think about it, India was my first real lone backpacking experience. Not that I was alone, no; I met a lot of people, friendly or unfriendly, travelers or locals, backpackers or foreign students, in hostels, restaurants, streets, buses or even train stations. But I was always traveling alone. My itinerary was only mine, and when I had to part from new friends, I did.

Maybe it was because of the short length of my stay (only three weeks; I will have to come back, and this time for a few months, eh) which forced me to rush to my destinations at all costs – missing my flight from Delhi was not an option, and staying for too long in one place neither – and made impossible for me to follow other travelers. I did my best to visit the most of India I physically and mentally could, having unfortunately to rest at some places because of my weak human condition.

And yes, I felt free. Not free like we, the Donkeys, were back on the highway in Jordan. I felt free because every morning, when I woke up, I could decide what I would do, where I would go, how to do it, without talking to anyone, without having to explain it to anybody, taking my own decisions based upon my own criteria. I could go to uncomfortable, dirty or even scary places without involving anyone else. I could try the risky Indian street food without being a burden to other people if I would get sick. I could bear a heavy travel schedule (sometimes only one or two nights per location, when I was not sleeping in a bus or train) without making people suffer from its fast pace. To put in a nutshell, when I had hard times, I faced them alone, without making anyone suffer around me.

But yes, sometimes, I also did feel lonely. Because no one was here to share the wonders, joys and beauties of the places I saw, no one was here to share my excitation about moving, traveling, discovering this incredible country. No one was there to watch my back, too; it is not a big news that lone travelers are easier preys for thieves, muggers, swindlers, con artists or even just touts.

If being lonely is the price of being free, I guess at least it also made me stronger.

My last days in Cairo were, obviously, a bit sad, not only because I was leaving my friends but also because the others had already left. It smelled like the end of our adventure in Egypt, except it was a three-day long end, i.e. way too long. Every evening was thus a bit of a departure party for me.

I slept at David’s for my last nights in Cairo. CS forever, eh? I will always remember how his mother insisted on me having seemingly endless teas, Turkish coffees or Nescafés. And eventually came the time to go to the airport, and to say goodbye to them. That was last time I saw them. But not the last time I will.

I got in Amman airport for the longest layover of my life. Twenty-four hours. Twenty-four hours wandering between overpriced cafés, restaurants, fast foods and snacks, and a huge duty free shop. First time I ever slept in an airport. It was not that bad, eh. And, at last, I took my plane to Mumbai, where I used Karim’s trick of asking for several meals when they serve you one. It works. Hell yeah it works, and it’s awesome.

Welcome to Mumbai (formerly known as Bombay), the cosmopolitan capital of Maharashtra.

After the cultural shock of an ultra-shaking bus through the slums of Mumbai suburbs, followed by an overcrowded suburban train, I finally got to Colaba, in South Mumbai, where I slept for a few nights in the Salvation’s Army Red Shield House. It was the perfect place to meet tons of backpackers, exchange stories and talk about our plans. After I found out everyone was heading for Goa and its worldwide-famous beaches, I decided it would be my next destination. Why not, after all?

I think it took me a few days to get used to the incredible rhythm of Mumbai. Crowds of people rushing and pushing you, rickshaws and taxis almost killing you – whether you are in the streets or inside the vehicle – people sleeping on the sidewalks, dogs, monkeys casually walking by on train platforms. I did feel overwhelmed at the beginning, until I understood that all of this worked out, somehow, and that it really was Mumbai’s lifestyle – and not a simple chaos. Mumbai’s heartbeat needs to be observed, and patiently listened to, otherwise you will just feel oppressed by everything that just seem to blow up at your face.

Luckily (again), I stumbled upon two couchsurfing girls who gave me the number of Aatish, a CS host living in Goregaon (Mumbai suburbs, 20 km North from downtown). I called him and the next morning, I was sprinting and jumping in a train (I unfortunately ended in a ladies coach, which I quickly left at the following station) to Goregaon with my bag on my back. Aatish welcomed me with an incredible friendliness, feeding me, giving me a mattress and even leaving me the key of his apartment before going to work (!) even though I had only met him for ten minutes. The comfort I had at his place allowed me to get a relieving rest.

After I bought my train ticket to Goa, I decided to take a bus to the Southern part of Colaba – but did not get down where I should have. I ended up at the terminus, in a slum along the South coast of Mumbai. So well, I am here and the bus is gone now. Why not visiting it? It turned out that was the best decision, and the best surprise I had in Mumbai.

Back in town – and moving again to Andheri (15 km North of Mumbai) to join my friend Vincent from Paris, here for a few weeks of studies with his school. It was totally unexpected to see him here, thousands of kilometers far from France, and quite a challenge to arrange a meeting with the scarce access to Internet in India. But we made it. While he was attending his lectures though, I took a last opportunity to walk in Mumbai and admire the Victorian architecture of the ancient British buildings, before running again to get in time in my overnight train to Goa.

You’re leaving alone for your round-the-world trip? That’s how you get the best experience!
(Etienne Comet, currently backpacking somewhere in South America)

Truth be told. Well, more precisely, that’s how I learn the most.

Bonus Track: Cutscenes from Cairo, Egypt.