My Lonely Planet guide came in useful finding places to visit in and around Dehradun. One day Passang and I went by taxi to Mussoorie, an old hill station 34 km away where the British used to retreat to escape the heat in summer. Established by the British in 1823 it made me think of the days of the Raj. It was a refreshing change to be up in the cool air of the hills and I went for a ride on a cable car, although Passang was too scared to join me..
Other days in Dehradun I took Passang shopping and bought her a few gifts while trying not to come across as Lady Bountiful, and we visited some temples. When you visit a holy site you have to leave your shoes at the entrance and they are usually put in a numbered pigeonhole and you are given a ticket. Imagine my dismay when leaving one temple to find my trainers had been stolen! Nobody knew or had seen anything of course and Passang did not want to take things further so there I was, barefoot and some way from the hotel. To make matters worse there was a farmers market in the street outside and I had to walk through loads of discarded rotting vegetable matter and animal droppings. After a few streets I spotted a shoe shop and managed to buy some very cheap men´s trainers (my English feet were to big for ladies!).
All in all I think the visit went very well. I was glad to have gone, and to have had the opportunity to finally meet Passang, who had always addressed me as "mother" in her letters and referred to my children as her brothers and sister. Now I was ready to return to Delhi, relax and see the sights. My return train ticket had been booked so all I had to do was ask the hotel to ring the chap who had met me at the airport so he could pick me up at Delhi station and take me to the hotel he had booked for me.
Except...he had vanished into thin air! He wasn´t answering his phone or emails. So there I was returning to Delhi the following day, arriving at nearly midnight on my own with nowhere to stay.
To be continued...
Ganesh just happens to be my favourite Indian god.
ReplyDeleteMine too!
DeleteAll part of the adventure, the taxi driver disappearing. I await the next instalment. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteAll part of life´s rich tapestry, and more to come! The chap who disappeared wasn´t a taxi driver, he worked for the Tibetan organisation and was supposed to be my minder. I probably didn´t explain that very well.
ReplyDeleteAh, even more intriguing!
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