After recovering from my latest adventure, I spent a couple of days before my flight home just mooching around near my hotel and buying gifts for the family. Apart from the few scares I really enjoyed my visit to India and would love to go back some day. There is so much more to see and do, I only touched the tip of the iceberg. I would definitely not go on my own, though. I think a small guided group would be ideal as you could learn and see so much more and feel secure at the same time. Of course because my main purpose was to see Passang a group trip had not been possible.
My return flight was an early morning one so the hotel arranged a taxi for me for about five in the morning. I know I was charged way over the odds but I didn´t argue, I just wanted to get to the airport without any hassle at this point. When the driver came for me and set off with my suitcase I expected him to turn right down the alley to the main part of the bazaar towards the station. Instead he turned left up the alley and proceeded to weave in and out of ever narrower empty alleys, walking very fast, while I had no choice but to follow him and my hostage suitcase. I remember thinking "here we go again" as it was dark that time of the morning and I hadn´t a clue where I was or where he was taking me. After about fifteen minutes we suddenly turned onto a little side street and there was the taxi! Relief once again.
Maybe my imagination is too vivid and I always think the worst but I seem to have had more than my fair share of hair raising moments on this journey. I am not usually a timorous traveler, after all I didn´t hesitate to set off and walk 800km across Spain on my own with a backpack a couple of years later. Anyway, I made it to the airport and onto my flight to London without any trouble. In London I was met by one of my sons, who lives there, and was I glad to see him. After a couple of weeks lovely visit I returned to my home in Brazil.
Passang and I continued to exchange letters but over time she started to write less frequently, especially after I refused her request for a computer, and eventually stopped. My last letter to her was never answered. I guess she is all grown up now and busy leading her own life. I don´t regret helping her get a start in life and do hope she is doing well.
It is always the way that the slightly unknown causes the most innocent things to become a bit scary like the walk with the taxi driver to the car. I have also known this. In Marrakesh I booked a taxi to take me to the airport for an early flight back to the UK. The riad owner said he would wake me and direct me to the taxi rank (no cars could reach the riad). He didn't and I found him sound asleep in the reception. Not a brilliant start, so no tea like he said he would make me and no guide. At 5am I set out to find the taxi alone at a taxi rank I had seen only once. Anyway, I found it and it was ok but I all a bit of a worry. When I reached the airport it was chaos but that is another story. I agree with you about making another visit in a group to see more. I have also done this over the last few years. Passang was no doubt grateful for the help you gave at the start of her life but she grew up and went her own way. Thank you for sharing. I enjoyed the story.
ReplyDeleteThank you Rachel, I´m glad you enjoyed the story. It´s funny how we seem to have had similar adventures on our lone travels. I had hoped to go on another Camino in Spain last year but had to cancel because of the pandemic. Heaven alone knows when things will get back to normal and I can set off adventuring again. I know you had a trip planned also. Let´s hope things settle down, for both our sakes.xx
DeleteLike Rachel, I too have very much enjoyed your stories. Both you and she have a delightful way of writing about their travels and drawing one into the adventure. This is something I admire very much as I'm mostly a scaredy cat when it comes to travel and therefore, and no doubt at times, miss out on some lovely experiences.
ReplyDeleteThank you Camille, glad you enjoyed the stories too. When I am writing them I find I am reliving the experience, warts and all, and it is fun to share them. We can´t all be the same but I´m sure you´d cope if you had to.
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