https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:1895_Times_of_India_Map_of_Bomb…
January 20th. Bombay! A bewitching place, a bewildering place, an enchanting place—the Arabian Nights come again? It is a vast city; contains about a million inhabitants. Natives, they are, with a slight sprinkling of white people—not enough to have the slightest modifying effect upon the massed dark complexion of the public. It is winter here, yet the weather is the divine weather of June, and the foliage is the fresh and heavenly foliage of June. There is a rank of noble great shade trees across the way from the hotel, and under them sit groups of picturesque natives of both sexes; and the juggler in his turban is there with his snakes and his magic; and all day long the cabs and the multitudinous varieties of costumes flock by. It does not seem as if one could ever get tired of watching this moving show, this shining and shifting spectacle . . . . In the great bazar the pack and jam of natives was marvelous, the sea of rich-colored turbans and draperies an inspiring sight, and the quaint and showy Indian architecture was just the right setting for it.
(Following the Equator)
From Fatout (p 259): In Bombay "... the pace abruptly accelerated. The family met an eager young man named Gandhi, lunched with the governor and his lady at Government House, visited Prince Kumar Shri Samatsinghi —who, in true princely fashion, bestowed rich gifts—attended the knighting of the Prince of Pulitana, a bejeweled figure resplendent in ropes of pearls and, as Mark Twain called them, “green rubies.” He found Bombay “A bewitching place, a bewildering place, an enchanting place—the Arabian Nights come again!”
See Mark Twain's Epiphany in Bombay