My notes are characteristically succinct: "P.O. Bus to Ajmer Train to Jaipur arrive late".
In my final packing I began to get a little concerned about the amount of "stuff" I was accumulating. I mean recreational combustible stuff as opposed to other stuff which was, of course also becoming a problem.
So far as that was concerned I made a list of my latest acquisitions on one of the postcards I wrote home. Somehow in just a fortnight since posting the wicker basket full of stuff from Delhi I had picked up an appliqué bed spread (camels and other animals), two ethnic blankets (the camel blanket and a rather more colourful one), appliqué cushion covers and embroidered cushion covers, the kind with little round mirrors in, a miniature painting of an elephant (which come to think of it, I think I may have bought in Pushkar after the black market for-ex deal) and, of course, the elephant pictured a few posts ago. On top of that I had had some shirts made up in Jaisalmer and had picked up those hippie backpacks, purses and chillum covers a couple of days ago. My postcard tries to justify the purchases on the basis that I would have to buy stuff upon my return so why not do it now where things I might need are cheap? My friend Rudiger Schliffke's knowing smile and the prophecy he made in South Eastern Turkey that I would find buying things in India impossible to resist came to mind. All this stuff had to be sent home.
No, the other "stuff" was becoming an embarrassment too. After a 6 week period in Turkey during which in total I had had nothing more intoxicating than literally a few bottles of beer (more than a couple but not as much as a handful), things were going downhill fast. What had I got? Well, there was that rather hard stuff from Kashmir, the sticky black stuff Hookmah got for me in Jaisalmer, a bagful of dry bhang and now a half tola of finest quality Parvati Chars from Himanchal Pradesh. I threw away the bhang.
So I went to the Post Office and sent another parcel home and posted the various letters and cards I had written over the last few days.
Then I checked out of the Sai Baba Guest House. My initially over attentive host, the young former Brahmin monk, was nowhere to be seen. Since the minute I caved in and took half the tola off his hands he had left me to my own devices.
I'd come up from Ajmer in some kind of van but my notes say "bus" so I suppose it must have been a bus I returned on. It is not a long journey and I think the bus must have gone straight to the Railway Station because otherwise there may have been some small adventure between getting off the bus and arriving there. At Ajmer I simply exercised my inalienable right as a Indrail Pass holder to board the next train to Jaipur and sit in First Class. It was not a sleeper but the journey took the best part of the day and arrived in Jaipur around dusk.
I was still not exactly recovered from the illness the day before and I decided to book the night at the Railway Station where there was accommodation for First Class travelers at exceptionally reasonable rates. The Station at Jaipur boasted hot water! That, and the fact that it meant I did not have to cart my backpack and the latest collection of souvenirs into the middle of the city (and back again the next day) were two of the reasons that I decided to check in there. Another reason was the Rickshaw mafia outside the station. I couldn't face the hassle.
The room was really quite sizeable and not only had a small wash basin inside the room but also had an en-suite shower cubicle. It was shabby but nonetheless pretty good. I took a shower. If I am correct in my recollection there was no hot water in the shower but there was a water heater above the wash basin. So after my shower I decided to have a shave.
One of the most essential pieces of equipment every back-packer should have is a universal sink plug. I had read that before I set off and very soon realised why this advice is given. Practically none of the places that I ever stayed in had a plug for the wash basin. I had patted myself on the back more than once for having followed the advice and having bought two of them to bring with me. The advice you don't get is how to remember to take the plug with you when you check out. I had already lost both my plugs! I very much regretted this during the course of my shave and realised there is more than one reason to have a plug for a basin.
The water heater contraption was like something that might have been found in a very cheap London bedsit. Antiquated and decidedly dodgy. It looked downright dangerous and would have been condemned in an instant by a modern day housing officer. Although it did work it didn't produce a very great volume of hot water. On the other hand what it did produce was extremely hot. I ran some and managed to get some on my face without scalding myself. I applied the stick of shaving soap and then stuck my shaving brush under the hot water before lathering up the soap up my face. I then rinsed the razor in the very hot water and began to shave. It was good to shave using hot water. Every now and then I would look down and rinse the razor and then return to watch what I was doing in the small mirror above the sink.
I had practically finished and was rinsing the razor when I noticed something coming out of the wash basin's plug hole! It was an absolutely enormous cockroach. I mean it was huge! It gave me quite a start. I suppose it was not quite as much a surprise to me than suddenly having scalding hot water sent down the rarely used plughole where the cockroach clearly lived, but I nearly jumped out of my skin.
Cockroaches are disgusting and this one desperately wanted to get out of the sink. It wasn't very nice to see it in the sink but at least I knew where the brute was while it was there. Cockroaches are not spiders and can easily escape a sink. Within a fraction of a second the bastard thing was out and on the ground. I was hopping around because I did not want it to run over my bare feet. Before showering I had probably succumbed to the temptation of a medicinal smoke (to vaccinate against nausea that might have recurred following my illness, you understand) so I was a tad uncoordinated and exciteable. I swear at one point I was holding the monster at bay with a small stool which I was also using to try and kill it. I think it escaped somewhere.
I don't know where it escaped and that helped galvanise me into going out. I couldn't stay in the room not knowing where the nasty insect was lurking.
