48 hours in Mumbai

Landing in Mumbai is a bit like being slapped in the face by colour, sound, and the vague scent of cardamom, diesel and ambition. Welcome to 48 hours in Mumbai—a city that never sleeps, always honks, and proudly defies logic in the best possible way. It doesn’t whisper, it yells. It doesn’t invite, it grabs you by the wrist and says, “Follow me, we have no time.”

Start strong in Colaba. Yes, the Gateway of India is obligatory, but so is a breakfast at Leopold Cafe, preferably while eavesdropping on someone’s life crisis over masala chai. The sea breeze tastes like freedom and smog, and it sets the mood for your coastal wanderings. Walk past Colaba Causeway, where street vendors peddle fake Ray-Bans and real dreams. Pick up a jhola bag you’ll never use again and a few brass trinkets you’ll pretend are antiques.

Just across from the Gateway is the iconic Taj Mahal Palace Hotel. No need to stay there unless you fancy splurging like a Bollywood mogul, but a stroll through its art-laden corridors is very much allowed. Think colonial grandeur with a side of ghost stories. And yes, the tea lounge is air-conditioned, which matters more than you’d think by noon.

Hop into a black-and-yellow Premier Padmini taxi—Mumbai’s nostalgic unicorns—and head to Kala Ghoda. This art district is where the city does its best impression of being a European capital. Indie galleries, bookshops, boutiques, and an art deco cinema for dramatic effect. Try Kala Ghoda Café for a turmeric latte if you’re feeling Instagrammy, or just have a beer next door like a functional adult. Wander into the Jehangir Art Gallery or admire the murals scattered across the precinct’s peeling walls.

Lunch should be in Fort. Britannia & Co. still dishes out berry pulao and Parsi charm as if Mumbai hadn’t morphed into a real estate fever dream. The grandpa who owns the place may still be around, yelling lovingly at everyone. Nearby, Yazdani Bakery awaits with bun maska and irani chai that can restore your faith in breakfast.

Next, walk it off at Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya. Yes, that’s a museum, and no, you don’t need to pronounce it right. Colonial architecture on the outside, Indus Valley artefacts inside. History and aircon, the dream. Don’t skip the museum garden—there are palm trees, squirrels that pose, and a strange serenity in the chaos.

Before sunset, make your way to Marine Drive. This is Mumbai’s runway, where joggers, lovers, philosophers and strays coexist in peace. Find a spot along the Queen’s Necklace and judge everyone’s evening walk outfits. As the sun drops behind the Arabian Sea, even the locals pretend to be impressed. Bonus points if you grab a cutting chai from a vendor who calls you “boss” and watch the light melt into orange cotton.

Dinner time? Time to level up. The Bombay Canteen in Lower Parel serves up reimagined Indian classics with a side of retro Bollywood kitsch. Or go full seafood at Trishna in Fort, where butter garlic crab causes near-religious experiences. Don’t dress up too much; Mumbai is fancy but allergic to overdressing. Alternatively, try O Pedro if you’re leaning toward Goan vibes and quirky cocktails.

If you’re not ready to crash yet, the city has opinions. Go bar-hopping in Bandra. Start at PCO (which pretends to be a speakeasy) and end up inevitably at Toto’s Garage, a dive bar themed like a 1990s mechanic shop because, well, why not. Bandra also has places like Bonobo, where the hipsters roam free, and even Salt Water Cafe for a slightly more elegant cocktail.

Wake up. Hydrate. Prepare. Day two of your 48 hours in Mumbai starts now. Ideally with a heavy breakfast at Kyani & Co., a Persian cafe with furniture older than most people’s grandparents and a menu full of nostalgia.

Begin at the Dhobi Ghat near Mahalaxmi station. It’s the world’s largest open-air laundry and a strange ballet of detergent and human endurance. Rows upon rows of concrete wash pens, colourful saris drying like festive bunting, and men who somehow remove years of grime with just a bar of soap.

Then shift gears completely and head to the Dr. Bhau Daji Lad Museum in Byculla. Think of it as the cooler cousin of the V&A. The building alone, a restored Victorian beauty, is worth the metro ride. Inside: industrial-era kitsch, maps, dioramas, and colonial memorabilia that unintentionally roasts the Empire. You’ll walk out knowing things you didn’t even realise were things.

From here, jump to Chor Bazaar. It means “Thieves’ Market,” and no, they don’t check if the goods are hot. It’s a treasure trove of vintage clocks, gramophones, brassware, and stuff you didn’t know you needed until now. Bring cash, courage and charm. Haggling is an Olympic sport here. If you’re lucky, you might stumble upon Bollywood posters from the 60s or a rusty typewriter that makes you feel profound.

Lunch calls for Mohammad Ali Road. Don’t ask, just go. Kebabs that melt before you can thank the grill master, naans that float, and sweets that could knock out a diabetic at ten paces. If you’re veggie, consider this your spiritual test. Try the badam milk from a tiny roadside vendor and wonder how you ever lived without it.

Next stop: Banganga Tank in Walkeshwar. It’s a surreal oasis of 12th-century temples and stone steps right in the middle of posh South Mumbai. Time slows here. Old ladies feed pigeons, children play cricket with sticks, and cows look smug. There’s even an ancient tree shrine where people tie threads and whisper wishes.

If you’re still game, wander around Malabar Hill. Hanging Gardens offers an elevated view of the Arabian Sea, and Kamala Nehru Park features a giant shoe you can climb into because someone thought that was a good idea. It isn’t, but you’ll do it anyway.

Wind down with a ferry ride from the Gateway to Elephanta Island if you’re feeling historical and mildly adventurous. The caves date back to the 5th century and are full of rock-cut sculptures dedicated to Shiva, dampened only slightly by the monkeys trying to steal your sunglasses. The boat ride itself offers a great chance to see Mumbai from the sea, all glass towers and stubborn fishermen.

For your last supper, head to Bastian in Bandra if you’re craving drama, or try Highway Gomantak near Dadar for honest-to-god Malvani fish curry and rice that smells like the Konkan coast. The waiters will judge your spice tolerance and probably your life choices. If you want something quiet and comforting, Swati Snacks is your friend—a Gujarati veg paradise where even the humble dhokla shines.

End things on a breezy note at Worli Sea Face. No one comes here to do anything in particular. It’s just a vibe. Watch the city lights blink at you while teenagers rehearse dance moves nearby. Couples share headphones, aunties power-walk, and someone always flies a kite. You’ll want to stay longer. You probably will.

Spending 48 hours in Mumbai isn’t enough. But it’s just enough to fall in love with its chaos, dodge a cow, eat three religions’ worth of food, and leave with sand in your shoes and a WhatsApp contact for someone named Ramesh who swears he can get you into any club in the city. You’re not sure if you believe him. But somehow, you want to. And maybe that’s the point. Mumbai doesn’t just offer a trip. It offers a storyline. And yours just began.