A late change in my travel itinerary for this tournament meant that I headed straight to Mumbai from Delhi rather than going via Pune. I wasn't complaining: about five weeks in Mumbai earlier this year, during the IPL, and quickly grew to love it - not least for the quality and diversity of the food.
Since arriving on Monday, I've eaten well. I am staying in the south of the city and had a delicious meal at Bombay Brasserie which included two fish dishes; I went back to Trishna for the garlic butter crab; and on Thursday lunchtime, I followed my colleague Nagraj Gollapudi's recommendation and headed to Britannia and Co.
For the uninitiated, this is a Parsi Cafe in the south-east of Mumbai - which Nagraj described to me as "an institution". It is an Iranian-Indian take on an American diner or an East End greasy spoon: it was founded 100 years ago, it only accepts cash, and its motto is: "There is no love greater than the love of eating."
I sat down and ordered a Pallonji's raspberry soda, a drink that tastes so perfectly artificial and sweet that it absolutely cannot contain any actual raspberries. For my lunch, I had a veg berry pulav - a rice dish containing mixed veg, dried cranberries, cashews and caramelised onions.
It was delicious, but my abiding memory will be of the place itself: peeling paint on the walls, whirring fans on the ceiling, chequered green tablecloths and waiters wearing formal white shirts and bow ties. It is a relic of a world gone by in a city that stops for no one.