It’s almost pitch black as I freewheel down the hill, a warm breeze in my hair. It’s 2am and I’m cycling around the streets of Mumbai. Those who have visited India’s largest city might question my sanity, but I’ve joined a new cycling tour for visitors who want to see another side of the metropolis. Its starts at midnight and ends as the sun rises.
By day, Mumbai – one of the world’s most populated cities, with more than 20 million inhabitants – rages like a beast unharnessed. The chaos, with giant open-air laundries alongside designer shops, street markets and Bollywood cinemas, is all-engulfing. But as I step out into the night from my hotel in the touristy Colaba district, the streets are almost deserted, the usual bumper-to-bumper traffic vanished.
Night cycling is the latest offering from Reality Tours, a company known for slum visits. Winner of last year’s WTTC Tourism For Tomorrow Community Award, it aims to raise awareness of the realities of slum life and show tourists how to visit one responsibly. It gives 80% of its profit back to sister NGO Reality Gives, mostly for the benefit of people in Dharavi – the slum they visit, which is said to be one of the world’s biggest.
Our trip takes in all the city’s main sights. We begin at the Gateway of India, Mumbai’s best-recognised landmark. Without the daytime queues of tourists and touts, the illuminated grand arch stands in peace.
Opposite is the Taj Mahal Palace, India’s most famous hotel, made infamous by the 2008 terror attacks. By day imposing white-uniformed, turbaned doormen welcome guests, but at this hour only the security guards sitting in an armoured vehicle (a permanent fixture since the attacks) are awake.
We munch snacks on the white steps sweeping up to the Greco-Roman-style Asiatic Society Library, which is regularly used as a location in Bollywood films. Next is the grand Chhatrapati Shivaji railway station (formerly Victoria Terminus), built in 1887 and featuring gothic arches, pencil-point turrets and animal faces carved into the stone. By day, waves of commuters flow through here, piling on and off packed commuter trains.
We sail through Zaveri Bazaar, the city’s main jewellery market. “Here men sweep the streets each morning searching for leftover gold,” Suraj says.
Yet it’s the shrouds of blankets lining the streets that are staggering – cocooned bodies are everywhere, some under mosquito nets, others inside makeshift tents taken down each morning. With few street lights, the scantily lit buildings take on a raw, almost ethereal, beauty.
Along palm tree-lined Marine Drive – nicknamed the Queen’s Necklace because the lights resemble a string of pearls – the art deco buildings remind me of Miami. Plastic collectors are out and about as we jump off our bikes and walk by the Arabian Sea, buying chai from sellers on bicycles.
Then it’s an uphill puff, past a man riding a bike laden with giant urns of milk. We stop at Banganga Tank, a large pool of holy water by a temple which, supposedly, has a healing underground spring. “Hindus believe this water comes from the Ganges,” Suraj says. A couple of people are bathing in the moonlight.
Close by, the city’s Hanging Gardens are shrouded in thick foliage. “Here in the Tower of Silence, Parsees (followers of the Zoroastrian faith) lay their dead to protect the elements from being polluted by burial or cremation,” Suraj tells us. Instead – until recently at least – bodies were eaten by vultures in a centuries-old tradition, though this has been stopped because of a shortage of the birds.
House prices around here are as steep as the hill we’re cycling up. Outside the towering 27 stories of the Antilia building, said to be the world’s most expensive private property, are hordes of armed guards. “It cost over a billion dollars to build,” Suraj exclaims.
Excess moves into asceticism as we wander into the rainbow-coloured Jain temple, where a few worshippers, dressed in white robes, are already hard at prayer. They have white scarves are tied around their mouths. “Jains believe you can’t kill anything, not even insects, so they wear these to avoid accidentally breathing them in,” says Suraj.
Then it’s past the Haji Ali Dargah mosque, which stands on an islet in the sea. On the promenade opposite, people are jogging and exercising before the day hots up. As we approach our final stop, Worli Fort, a priest is waving smoke over statues of gods and drums bang. It’s the morning puja in a nearby temple. We sit high up on the ramparts looking down on the fishing community below.
Syrupy yellow light is filtering between skyscrapers of the Worli district as we cycle back through narrow lanes, where women are making flower garlands and children are hurrying to school. The city is waking up again.
• Midnight group cycle rides with Reality Tours (realitytoursandtravel.com) cost £15pp. Its sister NGO is Reality Gives (realitygives.org). Accommodation was provided by Abode Hotel (doubles from £40 room-only, abodeboutiquehotels.com)
