Matheran: A Retreat from Mumbai Madness (Photos)

Some friends and I recently took a day trip to Matheran, a hill station about 100 kilometers from Mumbai. Let me clarify a few nouns in that sentence. I went with Yehia Houry, a young Lebanese man who recently moved to Mumbai to work as a fellow for the Acumen Fund. We met in line — no, not online — at the Indian consulate in New York when we were applying for visas last November. This was the second time I had seen him in Mumbai, and even though the first was work-related, two encounters definitely counts as a “friend” when you first move to a city.

The other “friends” I went with are British backpackers who have taken a year off to travel around India and Southeast Asia. (Yes, they do carry backpacks.) This was the first time we had met, and I probably won’t ever see them again, but I am new here — and happy to claim as many “friends” as I can.

Defining “hill station,” also known as a “British hill station,” is a little harder. It is one of those phrases that people here say like it is part of all English-speakers’ vocabularies. Yesterday, my Hindi teacher went over bathroom vocabulary with me. ” ‘Commode’ is just ‘commode,’ ” she said, “no need for a Hindi translation.”

“Um, what’s ‘commode?’ ” I asked. “A dresser?”

It’s a toilet.

She also told me I was free to say “put-loon” for pants, but should avoid “trousers.”

Anyway, it appears that a hill station is a pleasant, quiet area up in the mountains where people go to relax. Lonely Planet India has an index entry for hill stations and offers information on 10 various ones. Matheran, where we went, sits atop the Sahyadri Mountains and, again according to Lonely Planet, was popular among the British.

Lonely Planet also claims getting there is “really half the fun.” I am not sure I would go that far. The journey took us five hours and involved a taxi, two local trains and a “toy train.” The toy-train wound its way up the steep mountain, stopping every 30 minutes or so to rest and allow the passengers the chance to hop off and fill up on more guava dipped in curry and an assortment of puffed rice, green chili and spices called bhel that comes wrapped in a Times of India page.

We rode along the mountain, a bit too close to the edge to qualify as “fun” in my book, and had a great view of the fields and mountains around us. At one point the train stopped and everyone piled off — again — to photograph a large rock formation painted like a creature resembling a rat-elephant.

Yehia chatted with the group of men sitting near us who all worked together in Mumbai. A father took photos of his children playing in their seats, and another man sat in the entrance of our train car, with his feet practically dangling over the edge, as he read the newspaper.

The toy-train dropped us off near the main drag in Matheran, and men quickly approached us trying to sell us horse rides. No cars are allowed in the area. The street that runs through the hill station was much busier than I expected. Tiny shops lined each side of the road and sold everything from chips and soft drinks to fudge and sandals. Men led groups of horses along the road, and other men pulled rickshaws carrying visitors.

We took our map — which did not once lead us to our intended destination –  and set off exploring. We’d walk a couple kilometers through the forest, past the monkeys and horse manure, and then — poof — out of nowhere, the trees would clear and we would find a cliff to sit atop and view the valley down below and the mountains around us. Sitting on the small clearing, with the sun in our face, a light breeze in the air, and only the noise of chirping birds and rustling leaves, could not have been more lovely.

Finally, I thought, I had found a beautiful escape from Mumbai’s noise and congestion. And it only took six weeks.

After a few hours of hiking, we bought omelet pao (egg sandwiches) at one of the tiny shops and headed down to the car park to find a taxi home. Monkeys spotted my unfinished omelet pao and began plotting to attack me, but the sandwich was delicious and I happily devoured it before they had a chance to do any damage. All in all, it was a wonderful afternoon. I highly recommend these so-called hill stations, especially when visited with new-found friends.

Check out these pix from my trip.

A woman carries her goods in a basket on her head in a ladies car of a local Mumbai train on January 17, 2010.

A "toy-train" carries passengers up the mountain to Matheran on January 17, 2010.

A man pulls a woman in a rickshaw in Matheran on January 17, 2010.

My friends enjoy the view at a lookout point in Matheran on January 17, 2010.