An Indian Souvenir
Apparently India did not want to let us leave without a little something special to take with us. After a bit of back and forth, India decided that she would give Paula a powerful respiratory/bacterial infection and 103 degree temperatures for days and for Dan, food poisoning, the symptoms of which, warrant no description. No trip to India is complete without these two ailments, so now we can be assured that we have really experienced India fully.
On the plus side, this gave us an opportunity to experience India’s private heath care system, which proved to be quite good, especially if you are paying the “foreign tax.” I called the Bombay Hospital the morning before our 11pm departure to South Africa and was given an appointment with a doctor for 30 minutes from then. A short bit later I am in with a doctor who looks like a close approximation to the cute doctor I had seen in the Indian soap commercials so five points for India. The doctor gives me a “prescription” (maybe better described as a list because I am not sure a prescription is required) for a slew of medications to treat this vicious illness that has incapacitated me for days. He also gets me on the fast track for blood tests, just to make sure I don’t have malaria (double yikes). On top of this, as if I wasn’t already eternally appreciative, he allows me to sleep in his office for several hours since our hotel had insisted on a 10am checkout.
After this great treatment and a power nap, Dan and I are off to enjoy our final day in India. We decide that the best place for us in our frail conditions is Chowpatty Beach. We jump in a taxi, which immediately gets pulled over by a cop. The taxi driver starts yelling at the cop; the cop walks away and the taxi driver jumps out and says “wait here.” I look over at Dan and say, “lets bail.” So, we are off by foot only to be approached by our taxi driver with yells of “where did you go?” Apparently tickets are resolved much more quickly in India…a 50 Rupee bribe to the cop and done. So, we jump back in our taxi and head to the beach. To no surprise, upon arriving, the driver asks for an additional 50 Rupees to cover his ticket. As tradition has dictated (for us at least), every taxi ride in India must end with an argument, and this time would be no different. After explaining to him that there is no way in hell that we are paying for his errors, Dan hands him the original agreed upon payment, which taxi guy won’t accept. Finally Dan drops it on the seat, and we are off….trailed by our new stalker taxi driver.
Chowpatty beach is very nice, except for the water, which is toxic. It is a shame that people can’t swim there but people still lounge around enjoying the beach. There are no bikinis to speak of though, everyone was quite fully covered.
True to Dan and Paula-style, we decide to start walking back towards our hotel neighborhood, which is approximately 10 km away, thinking we will walk only part of the way and taxi the rest. Our stalker taxi driver passes by…but ah ha ha, now that he has passed us he has lost us for good because it is a one-way road. An hour of nice conversation later, we are almost there, so why bother with taxis we figure, and walk the rest of the way. This would prove to be a big mistake as we would later see on an airport bus in Abu Dhabi…
Paula
Tags: India, India; Taxi; Bombay; Choppaty Beach
admin
March 18th, 2008 at 8:25 pm
You left me ‘hanging” on this one – what happened between here and Africa?