For people who travel a lot, gyms have the discreet charm of the familiar. A treadmill is a treadmill anywhere, so when you plug your earphones and turn on your favorite music you’re nowhere, you’re just running. Nobody cares about your cultural difference, you don’t need to learn or experience, but to move.

But before plugging my music (tonight, Après la classe, who despite their name are from Salento) in my gym in Mumbai I could not help noticing some differences…

1. The gym is in a normal apartment, no air conditioning with 42 perceived degrees. 
2. All around the cardio machine, cartels explaining that you should turn the machines off before stopping, and waiving responsibility for “injuries or life loss”
3. At the door, a huge security guard making sure I left my outdoor shoes at the entrance, sign the register, talk to a personal trainer before doing anything. 
4. It took me 10 minutes to convince the guard and the personal trainer that I can run with my fit flop, that they are safe and, as the name says, made for fitness walking.
5. There are just 2 treadmills and a stepper. So each one has a right to 20 minutes slots. Goodbye cardio activity.
6. The personal trainer: he could not accept me doing my normal circuit, he could not accept me explaining that even the minimal weight is too much for an unfit person like me if it is 2 kg, and no, definitely he could not to accept that I wasn’t able to complete all the series he was imposing on me. But I had no other choice than to do it. 

India will definitely make me stronger!

Today I survived two hours of morning yoga, had an ayurvedic massage, saw a kingfish jumping in the waves, drunk whiskey at lunch with a serial entrapreneur, heard people singing preyers in an hinduist temple, been visited by a tibetan witch doctor, ate street food (well, kind of), got invited to a wedding in Delhi, smelled like citronella all day long, listened an indi(an) rock concert and learned that raves are now forbidden in Goa, and blamed the touch keyboard for my spelling mistakes. I think now I can go to sleep…

Yours just moved to Mumbai, India. This Tumblr will be temporarily used to share impressions about this country.

1) India smells. Sometimes bad, sometimes just differently, but compared to the other places I’ve ever been (mostly EU and US) it has a stronger smell.

2) I have the constant feeling of being in a big Naples. Everybody is trying to rip us off, every price needs to be renegotiated… a lot. On the other hand, people are really friendly and very helpful. For instance, every time we foreigner have to deal with non-English speaking drivers, locals volunteers out of nowhere to translate for us.

3) TukTuk are the coolest transportation ever. Driving here is completely different: looks more like playing a video game than using public roads. They just go wherever they find space. I’m still alive, and well, it is fun. 

4) Unfurnished kitchen (like the one promised by my research institute in my residence) here doesn’t mean without cutlery and pots: it means without stove and fridge. Just an empty room with a counter and a sink. So I guess I also have a laundry and a personal gym: just unfurnished.

5) Slums are everywhere. Or everywhere looks a little bit like a slum

6) Salesman are obsessed with sitting. Everywhere I ask for in formations or for stuff, they ask me if I want to sit in return. Things like: “Do you have a pillow” “Please, sit, and we’ll discuss about it”. Probably it is because it takes them sooo long to do anything - and I have southern Italian standards!

7) Why on heart I’m asked to cover my shoulders and all the women here walk around with their belly and their back uncovered? Isn’t it much sexier than shoulders?

8) Indian salesman are theatrical - which makes me feel kind of at home. 

9) the Indian head bubble has a thousand meaning, but I always have the feeling they’re telling me “you will never understand, so just relax and don’t worry”