This morning we were thankfully feeling better than yesterday. We had another breakfast of semolina and orange juice before the boys gave Big Red some final love and attention on his last morning with us.
I spoke to Boss Man both before and after breakfast. I was on a quest to get his worker here before midday as we had plans for the afternoon. Considering he was actually due to do the exchange last night, we figured this was reasonable. However, it was proving more difficult than it should have been. Boss Man finally agreed and said his worker would arrive within the hour. There were a few phone calls between the worker and Anando (thankfully they had Hindi in common because bus English was very basic) as the guy tried to work out where we lived. He assumed Anando was the owner of our guesthouse and we did not correct his assumption. We wanted the upper hand and were hoping the element of surprise might grant us that. Meanwhile we watched some more of the Everest DVD before practicing how to check the authenticity of Indian rupees, learning to look for the hologram of Ghandi which proved the note to be real. Two and a half hours after the last phone call with Boss Man, and nowhere near being within the hour as promised, the guy arrived.
When he finally did arrive he had a backpack which looked promising as I imagined it was full of cash. But, in true Boss Man style, even his workers are unorganised and inefficient. He hadn't yet gone to an ATM to get the cash. We started the bike and, once he was satisfied that it did indeed start, he indicated that he would need to go to an ATM and come back.
Anando jumped on the back of the bike and they set off to the ATMs, plural, as such a large sum of cash could not be retrieved from just one machine. Meanwhile I became more and more nervous, more and more stressed, more and more jittery. Chris offered me a whiskey but I declined.
They took forever! Or at least it seemed like forever as Chris and I sat and waited in the living room. Just as we were getting worried that they may never return, they pulled up. Anando walked inside and the first thing he said was "watch this guy's hands." Not the best way to settle my nerves. The next thing I knew, the worker had called Boss Man and put me on the phone and I was listening to him try to tell me that the wheel alignment was shot and that the bike needed a service and therefore he would not pay us as much as promised. I was not in the mood for his remarks and quickly informed him that if he wasn't willing to pay the 68000 right now, he could put his worker back on the train and leave Big Red with us. Thankfully he didn't realise that, without the NOC form he failed to give us, a resale here would be tricky. My bluff worked and he agreed.
Despite the money being fresh from the ATM we made him sit while we counted, recounted and recounted the notes again. Then we checked each and every note for the holograms. Taking great pleasure in making him wait like Boss Man had made us wait in Chennai, we took our time.
When we were satisfied we had the 68000 rupees we thought it was a done deal. But then he wanted the helmets. When bargaining with Boss Man a few days ago I had offered the helmets for free if he agreed to pay the 70000 I was asking. As he had declined, the helmets were taken off the table. Apparently the missed this part of the conversation as he was now adamant that I was going back on my word. I was not prepared to sit and take this kind of talk after he had gone back on his word so many times. I think he got the drift of my displeasure and he quickly gave up.
The problem for the worker who had come to do the exchange was that, unlike Tamil Nadu, West Bengal had strict laws about riders wearing helmets. The guy was in a jam as he was expecting them to be included. Not budging, and already annoyed that they'd tried to get more money out of us than we agreed, I told him that I'd sell him a helmet for 1000 rupees from his own pocket. He tried to tell us that the orange helmet was only worth 600 rupees but, unluckily for him, we had an answer for that too. This guy had been the same guy who had taken us to buy the helmets in Chennai and we still had our receipt. He had let us be overcharged and it was now back to bite him. We had paid 990 for the orange helmet. We revelled in the fact. Unwillingly, and after much argument, he handed over 1000 rupees then wanted the black helmet instead. Yeah right! We offered to throw in the clear visor for free, just to show what nice people we are, but he declined. Apparently it wasn't worth the 200 rupees we had been charged in Chennai. He rode off, unhappy to say the least.
After a few minutes of celebration the darn guy returned. He was dissatisfied to have paid 1000 rupees for a second hand helmet that was only worth 990 (or 600 in his eyes). We were kind and gave him 100 rupees back just to get rid of him. And then...it was over.
It was a sad morning. When a machine helps to safely carry you 8034km around a country with the highest number of traffic related deaths of anywhere in the world, you grow attached. We were a little family that was being torn apart and the best we could hope was that Big Red would be sold to new owners who would love him and care for him as we had.
Our day was well and truly running behind schedule and there was little hope of Anando making his 1:30pm dance class. We had a quick lunch of rice, dahl, fried potatoes and spicy eggs before finally being able to head into town.
We parked up at the mall once again and met Devaleena who had been at dancing. Anando needed to get some hiking boots so that was our first job. Deciding not to bother even trying on the mustard ones due to a colour clash, he settled quickly after trying just two pairs. Too easy! We then had time to kill and, as there weren't any ridiculous Bollywood films showing, we did what anybody would do in our situation...we went for drinks.
Back at Zara, the tapas bar, we had a pitcher of peachy sangria. Once that was finished we figured we might as well continue with our errands and set off for the backstreet camping store at which we have become regulars. Familiar faces greeted us and we checked out the stock they had had delivered in anticipation of our visit. We left with one waterproof bag cover for Chris and each of us got a pair of gloves that, after watching the documentary, are probably necessary for when the mercury plumets below -10 degrees celcius at 5000m above sea level.
Again we had time to kill. This time we killed it by going sightseeing. We drove across the city to James Princep Memorial, a very grand columned structure and checked out all of the canoodling couples. We then continued down to Princep Ghat to view the holy Ganges Ganga. Looking at it just wasn't enough for Anando though and, while I wasn't allowed to climb down the slippery stairs to dip my toes in, we were to go for a boat ride.
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| Ganges Boat Rides |
We walked further down the river and found a place that did boat tours. Our tiny wooden boat turned up and the four of us climbed aboard. It was peaceful as we cruised along the water in the darkness, even if the odd stinky drain did mar the experience slightly. Oh, and our hacking, bong sucking boat drivers. As we cruised along Anando investigated the interior of the boat cabin, if you could call it that, and noted the mirror, toothbrush, toothpaste, clothes hooks and comb. Either people lived on these boats or our theory about young school kids canoodling in them was proving true.
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| Lazing on the deck |
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| Boat Rides |
After an hour on the water we returned to shore and walked back to the car to take the drive back across town to Kolkata's famous Park Street which throbs with restaurants and bars. We wandered around for a while in search of live music but found only a lady singing ear-piercing old Bollywood tunes. After wandering some more we settled on Moulin Rouge restaurant and, as we walked in, were rewarded with a jazzy duet of saxophone and piano playing everything from Elvis to Edelweiss.
The food was delicious. Roast duck, fish and chips, chicken Sicilian and a sizzling mix of fish, lamb, chicken and prawns. We dropped Devaleena home before Anando got us lost in the backstreets while trying to take a shortcut. When we finally got directed back to a main road thanks to a friendly local, we were pretty much back where we started. Oh well. We battled the trucks with the high beaming headlights and made it home just in time for us to get to bed before midnight. On our way down the lane way to Anando's house, the curious but nervous puppy from yesterday came to say hi. This time she was happy and trusting enough to roll over and enjoy a good old fashioned tummy rub. She was quickly becoming my favourite and I tried to think of ways I could smuggle her through Nepal and back to Australia.
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| Stray puppy |
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