Well, we didn't see anyone else get caned (as they say) on our trip. Sorry if you were waiting for that.
We were only in Mumbai (Bombay) for the one night, essentialy because it made our flights cheaper. Romantic, I know.
We flew out of Mumbai nine hours after we had arrived there, headed for Delhi. The arrival in Delhi was much like that in Mumbai, but it was daytime, and since the bar had been closed the night before I was not hungover, so it went fairly smoothly.
By the time we were set in our hotel it was approaching dusk, and despite my pleas, we went for a short walk. We were at a quite nice hotel in the center of Delhi, and the Sikhs were managing the gates at either end of the drive.
One of the Sikhs mumbled a subdued caution to us as we proceeded out the gate, onto the street, out of the West, into the East, one step at a time.
It only took a hundred yards before we were the center of attention. And why not? Big beefy white guy, wife and kids in tow, let's sell them something! If I was them, that's what I would do.
But soon the crush of hawkers, snake-charmers and scammers became too much, particularly for the intelligent-and-interested-but-basically-whitebread-suburban kids we have. And we retreated to the hotel.
Fortunately for my sanity, my wife was exhausted and the place had satellite TV. Two problems solved at once.
Oh yeah, and the bar was open.
So I plugged the kids into the videoweb, shut down the wife for service, went to the bar for a coupla cocktails, and went out.
Perhaps not the wisest choice, considering I was jetlagged, half-drunk, and completely unaware of my location. I mean, I knew the name of the hotel, and the road it is on, but that's it. Still, I forged on.
(disapointing part of the story coming)
Nothing really happened. I went to about five different clubs, I had thugs and hooligans eyeing me up and down, debating what would be the most elegant and stylish way to take my money, I had guys following me from place to place, waiting for me, offering me whatever I wanted.
If you've ever lived in a city, you know that this is not unique to India. Everybody everywhere wants the money in your pocket.
But if there was something special about it, it would be how cheerful everyone was. They wanted your money, but they still wanted you to have fun in the process. They wanted you to be happy or at least not "discomfitted" - a very Indian word.
Better than my home town, I'll say that much.
But what I wanted, at that place, at that time, was bed. So I walked home, leader of a little parade, a parade of pimps and dealers and the rest, and let the Sikhs at the gate scare my crew away.
Bookmarks