pursuit gasping for air , in heat and humidity never before experienced , wondering how long it would be before death …
My taxi driver didn ’ t speak any English and I didn ’ t speak any Indian so the 30-minute journey to my hotel was , shall we say , incredibly quiet . Except for my introduction to Indian traffic , at midnight . I had never seen anything like it . Yes , the traffic in Britain was at times interesting with traffic jams and road rage but this took traffic to another level as it was absolutely bonkers .
Every car and driver I could see , and no doubt ones I could not , pressed their horns . Constantly . BEEP BEEP BEEP . Get out of my way they BEEPED . What the hell had I arrived at and was this how I was going to die ? I just started to laugh , what else was there to do . First a little chuckle , probably out of being nervous more than anything else , which grew to more of a laugh which is an international sign for ‘ THIS IS MAD ’, or at least it was the way I laughed . My taxi driver looked at me as I looked at him across the cultural divide and he must have understood because he started to laugh too .
Thirty , or so , minutes later , having beeped our way through traffic overtaking other vehicles on the right , left and I am surprised we didn ’ t drive over the top of some . I also discovered lights on vehicles at night seemed ‘ optional ’. In other words , vehicles appeared out of the darkness with frightening regularity and as for cows - well that is another story altogether .
We arrived , eventually , having survived the traffic apocalypse , child ’ s play compared to what I would face within 36 hours , at the Hotel Pllazio in Gurgaon , which was still within the confines of New Delhi district .
Now , at this point , let me state , I was expecting to be taken to a tent , or hut , with no running water and a toilet consisting of 2 feet shaped markings on the floor with scaffolding to hold onto .
On exiting my taxi , I got instant gravel rash on my chin from my mouth falling that far open with surprise . Arrival towards the door , the door staff , dressed in glorious , splendid clothes of many colours looking very ‘ military ’, bowed their heads with their hands clasped together in front of their face saying “ Namaste ”.
‘ Nam es what ?’, I thought , soon to discover this is a respectful greeting or hello . It made me feel incredibly special . I thought they only did that in films and yet here they were greeting me this way , although I do confess , I thought they were taking the ... well , you know what !
The entrance door was opened for me , I was starting to feel like royalty .
I had just entered paradise , absolute paradise . Had I been transported by time machine to another country , where were the old tents and footprints in the sand ?
Directly in front of me , the floor was an ocean of gorgeous brown marble , with striking pillars reaching for the moon and a reception desk of the purest stone dotted with what looked like stars from the night sky .
The reception staff , immaculately dressed , greeted me with bright white marble type smiles , against their gorgeous brown skin with my booking in forms ready for my signature . I thought to myself I could put up with this for an exceptionally long time as I was blown away by everything I was now surrounded by , sheer luxury .
Filling in my arrival forms and handing over my passport for photocopying , my luggage had gone through the security scan and had been brought in to be sitting next to the lift , on my right , ready for my departure to the floors above .
My dream was interrupted by , “ Room 28 sir and please , there is the lift , enjoy your stay ”.
Off I went , with my rucksack carrier , “ this way sir ” to the 2nd floor and directed into my room , which would put anything in Britain to shame … it was out of this world , and not a tent , or feet shaped markings in sight . I was shamed though because I had no Indian currency to tip my porter and did my best to say I was sorry .
My room was incredible , offering a huge bed , large ‘ glass ’ walled bathroom , if anyone was with me , they would ’ ve been able to see my ‘ bits ’ in the shower or sitting on the toilet which was a bit strange , deep piled carpet and bottled water . Excellent , as I had been told to drink nothing that wasn ’ t in a sealed bottle , ‘ do not drink the water ’, and while on the subject to eat nothing they called chicken !
It was after midnight now so undress , shower , and beddy byes - off to the land of dreams , although I was beginning to think I had already arrived there .
The following morning my worries were starting to subside , my ability to breathe had not improved , so much so , in fact , I felt like vomiting , my head was spinning , and I was still having to concentrate on my lungs working . I was considering I may have to return home it was that bad , even with the air conditioning on ( luckily this went away after a couple of hours ).
My mind then wandered to mosquito ’ s … had one entered my room and helped itself to a pint or two of my blood ? I was not sure , but I did know I wasn ’ t itching so maybe not , besides , I was and had been taking my anti mozzy death tablets before I arrived and would continue to do so , so no real worries really , ish , maybe , kind of …
There was only one thing for it and that was to bat on and see what happens , get showered , whilst remaining tight-lipped so no water
TRAVERSE 48