I felt unwell this morning, + was distressed to discover the return of the rotten egg burp, the common symptom of giardia – I had hoped to have shifted that way back in Nepal. But there was business to do today, so I could not languish. We went first to the Railway Booking Office, just 10 mins walk away, to attempt to book tickets tomorrow night to Jammu, the northernmost terminus of India’s rail network. From there we would take a bus up to Srinagar, the heart of the Kashmir Valley. We got our bookings without too much difficulty, once we had discovered the right desk to go to.
Back for breakfast, at the same canteen we had lunched at yesterday, it being so cheap, + then off to change some money. In order to buy an international air ticket here, one has to show a bank receipt, to prove that one has changed the money for it officially, + at the official rate. Understandable, but annoying. And after a couple of vain attempts to change travellers’ cheques at other banks, we gave up + went to the American Express office. The others don’t like Amex, apparently because they charge a high commission. At Amex, we found there to be an enormous queue, stretching right back to the door of the office + 2 or 3 across, all leading to the one counter that was open. Meaning, clearly, that the one man was having to deal with all operations, large + small, buying + selling, + others inbetween. He wasn’t wonderfully fast either, so the line was only creeping forward at the slowest pace. We had to stand + wait for nearly 2 hours altogether, for only when I had nearly reached the front was the second counter opened. It was as well that they worked thro’ their lunch-break, or I think they would have had a riot. Generally, in fact, we waiters were patient + well-behaved, with everyone being very careful to look after their rights, so that, at the end, when a couple of people did try to push in, they had 20 or 30 people telling them politely but forcefully where to go.
By the time we’d rec’d our money, the airline office had re-opened after its lunch break, so we went straight there. Once again, it took a little while to discover the system – they have, tucked away, a book in which one enters one’s name upon arrival, + then one waits to be called – but once we had done so, everything was smooth + efficient. We ordered, paid for, + rec’d our tickets straight away, + our booking, for Nov 22nd, was confirmed (tho’ I think we’ll check again before we leave, just in case.) And that, really, was that.
We ran into Paul again on the street, + returned with him to Ringo’s where he is staying, to collect a couple of books from him that he promised us. Val went off to do some shopping, or at any rate some window-shopping, while I, feeling not too good, walked back. Before I went, however, I heard the news that the IRA had attempted to blow up Maggie Thatcher, + virtually the entire Tory party, staying at the Grand Hotel in Brighton for their annual conference. One had a certain sympathy with the perpetrators, but really I disapprove of violence, particularly as a political weapon, + feel sure that in any case it will only rebound to the credit of the Conservatives, by turning them all into martyrs. It might well be the act which gets Maggie back in as PM. 4 people were killed, none of them famous. Not that that will be of much consolation to their families.
Val was quite late returning, + foolishly we hadn’t agreed that she should eat in town before coming back. I certainly couldn’t face anything, + she didn’t have the energy to go all the way back into town. So we both fasted.
And after a successful day yesterday, today was blighted first by illness, and secondly by our unfortunate encounters with bureaucracy; always a potential problem here. And interesting that I should be writing about this at the same time as having to listen to the martyrdom of Donald Trump, which would seem to have a similar effect of sewing up the forthcoming election.
