The Place was India
After a terrific week whizzing around sun baked India in the height of their summer, a local we met up with called Vijay says he will take us to the restaurant that he takes his wife and family. We drive through the pink city of Jaipur at night, there are even more people and there is even more going on than during the day, awesome. Deepak (our guide and chauffer) is not happy when we get there. The “restaurant” is a fucking toilet, seriously un-hygienic looking. Filth on the tables and floor, since we were eating with our hands I tried hard not to touch anything. I used the loo, Jesus it was worse than a Sunday morning at a kite buggy weekend, however it was vegetarian food and the water bottle seals were all intact so we go with it. Have a nice evening I pay for dinner for six of us, emm about 8 quid.

My travelling chums, Ros and Charlotte, leave the next morning at 5am to head for the next leg of their journey. I wake at 6am with a dose of the Delhi belly that I had so far managed to avoid by eating only where our guide told us it was ok. Thankfully the loo was a combined shower & toilet and I was standing under the shower when the cramps hit. Both ends simultaneously exploded reminding me of my child hood, you know loud noise at one end and no sense of responsibility at the other. When the worst of it was over, I showered off, popped an Imodium and went back to sleep. I wake a few hours later I and my mind wandered to my companions, it turns out both Ros and CK were stuck in the taxi for six hours stopping every 15 minutes. They messed their trousers and the car …lol. They said that even with the ac on full blast the vomit was boiling on the dashboard and the smell eventually forced them take the truck to the river to wash it out.

(Turns out later we had contracted dysentery from the food, duh hardly fucking surprising.)

Excerpts from “India, It’s a fucking hot place”
(lastingdamage, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 20:42, Reply)