Juhu is the airport’s near neighbour, the beach at its edge and the Juhu aerodrome a few minutes away — the address from which a car, a helicopter and a flight are easiest to join together.
Terminal 2 is close; the house still watches the flight and plans the hour.
Most towers here ask for a guest’s name at the gate and keep cars out of the porch until it is given. The sarathi gives yours, waits where security allows, and is at the lobby door, not at the kerb, when you come down.
For a helicopter from Juhu, the house carries you to the aerodrome and meets you on return — the helicopter, written with both cars.
An early walk on the sand, the car at the steps; a late dinner on Juhu Tara Road, the car at the door.
The house never names who it collects, or from which building, here or anywhere else. Your gate, your tower and your floor are written once, kept in your room, and read only by your sarathi.
Inside every written figure: the car, your sarathi, fuel, every toll, parking at both ends and GST. Nothing is added on the day, and no meter runs.
Reserve from JuhuYour gate and floor, written once.