A change of scene always helps. . .
Trip Start Jan 27, 2008
30Trip End Apr 06, 2009
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I decided this morning that I can no longer take staying in the main bazaar without losing my mind completely. I can't really eat anything but lassi and juice to try and replenish the native intestinal flora that have been scoured from my body by the horse-pill antibiotics the chemist gave me for my recent chest infection. The good news is that I have a lot less of that nagging cough, the bad news is that I'm slowly starving to death with the above mentioned diet, and whatever chunky green stuff I decide to swallow rather than spit.
Working is good, however, not too strenuous, and I hope to finish the job rather than let Balu hire some half-assed Indian electrician (who should actually be called more accurately "fire starter") come to finish the job, if he even shows up
The big news is that I have decided to spend my last days across the main marg in a nicer hotel very close to the workshop. Hell, I spend most of my days there anyway. The better part of this news is that I have splurged the extra hundred rupees a night for television, and **gasp** air conditioning! What the hell, a little coolness takes the urge to wring the next man's neck who asks, "friend, you come my shop?" Rather than the bamboo massage administered to those who wring necks, I have given and submitted to the AC room with the TV.
Rocinante will be picked up by the mechanics, as for some strange reason she will not start at all for me (this I could explain in detail, but knowing these bikes as I do, there is no possible reason in heaven or hell that the damn thing is not starting), then to be taken apart and refurbished for someone else to have inexplicable problems with. Remember the Stephen King book "Christine?" well, it's something along those lines.
So, to hell with it all. I'm going to hole up in a nice cool room after working a productive day helping friends with a burgeoning business, and wait for it all to be over
They can not all be amazing trips, some of them have to suck so that others can be better. I'm sure then, with all uncertainty, that my next visit here will be one of the former, rather than the latter.
Successes: a new silver tooth, a decent guitar, three weeks in Manali with my "family," 600 kilometers ridden on a motorbike, the overcoming of numerous nasty illnesses that doubtless would have killed one of a lesser constitution. The procurement of saddle and tank bags for my Enfield at home, (which have now become my luggage), the mastery of Pagal-Ganj, a grotty ass place, but at least I know where to find anything at any time of day or night. Making numerous good acquaintances, and three real friends.
All in all, not a bad day's work. The best laid plans gone to waste, one can only accept the losses, and consider the gains a blessing. That said, there is only one more thing I can say:
God, I can't wait to get the hell out of here!