Agra 22rd March 06

I woke up around 07:30, can’t be sure though as I was having a half wake / half dream moment when I eventually woke up. I was sure that my dream was true, but alas it’s not, I’ll still have to blow them birthday candles out and stir the Christmas pudding.

I’d gone to bed pretty late last night; it was just after 01:00. I had waited up to watch the Birmingham City v Liverpool FC quarterfinal of the F.A Cup and I was really looking forward to it, as Liverpool had seemed to be over their recent goal-scoring drought. The F’in electricity decided to go off just as the game was starting, which meant that I missed the whole of Liverpool’s 0-7 victory over Birmingham City. I was gutted when I finally got the score on the Internet this afternoon. Well, I was pleased for LFC, just gutted that I missed the game.

I lay in bed for a couple of hours after I woke up and finished off my book (Patricia D Cornwell: All That Remains) and then went to one of the local restaurants and had a cheese omelette and milk coffee, it was the first time I had breakfast in ages as I’ve just been eating 1kg of oranges during the day (and drinking water) and having a meal in the evening. After breakfast I headed down to my doctor as I’d arranged to meet him around 11:00, I got a bit sidetracked on the way though! I met this guy who tried to stop me on the street the other day, so I decided to humour him and I went into his shop to talk. He told me that he wasn’t interested in selling anything to me (Pinocchio) and that he was a student who just wanted to talk. I told him that was good because I was a traveller who just wanted to listen! We were sitting in his shop for about five minutes and he asked me if I wanted a drink of chai (tea), so I said ok. That was when he whipped me off to his other shop (which just happened to be a couple of doors down from my guesthouse) and lured me into his “lair”.

It was funny because he was asking me the meaning of lots of words, then he started singing a song; “you are my sunshine”,
“What comes next?”
“I think it’s, my only sunshine”, says I.
“It may be, you make me happy when skies are grey, I said”,
“And then?”
“I’m not really sure, but it could be;
You’ll never know dear how much I love you, so don’t take my sunshine away”
“Repeat”
“From the start?”
“Please”
“Shit, hope I can remember;
You are my sunshine
My only sunshine
You make me happy
When skies are grey
You’ll never know dear
How much I love you
So don’t take my sunshine away”
“And then?”
“I don’t know”
“Who sings”?
“Sorry, haven’t got a clue”
“How do you know song”?
“I don’t know, I just do”.

He then starts to sing; “ve vill, ve vill, vock you. Ve vill, ve vill, vock you”
I have a similar song on my ipod called “we will rock you” and he enjoyed listening to this. He then mentioned a song that started off with the Spanish for 1, 2, and 3; so I played him Vertigo by U2, but he meant a Ricky Martin (puke) song, which I’m glad to say I didn’t have on my ipod. I then played him some Van Morrison and the Chieftains (I’ll tell me ma) and then played “Up the Junction” by Squeeze, which he really liked (I continue to spread the Gospel).

Then starts the hard sell:
“You want to see how marble is made?”
“No”
“Why not?”
“Because you told me that you would not try to sell me anything”
“I don’t try to sell to you, I am a student”
He proceeded to show me lots of nice “marble” work, but I really don’t have room to cart it around with me for the next seven and a half months.

He then wanted to know if I had a mobile phone, so I showed him my Nokia 7600, which amazed him. It’s only a phone with a couple of gadgets, nothing that special. He then wanted to trade my possessions with “marble”, I refused to give him my ipod, phone and watch and told him my camera was back at the hotel and didn’t dare mention a laptop! He then tried to exchange my clothes and deodorant for his “products”. I had a cup of chai with him, and made my excuses after about an hour (hey, it’s not like I’ve anywhere to rush to!).

By the time I’d finished with him, I would have been cutting it close with the doc. so I went to an internet café for an hour to check and write some emails (why are emails always so much more fun when you are stuck in your office behind a desk?).

I then went for brunch and had an omelette and a milk coffee; I was also offered beer and Mary Jane (marijuana), which I declined. I decided to ring my sister who had her first baby on Saturday (Katie, 8lbs 3oz), but she wasn’t at home, so I had a good long chat with Martin (hubby) and then rang Claire in hospital, she’s due out tomorrow and is looking forward to seeing something other than four magnolia walls!

I went back to my guesthouse then and tightened up a couple of nuts and bolts that had worked themselves loose on my bike and had a chat to some of the guys there. I headed down to see the doc at 17:30 but he wasn’t there. I went to his clinic and got talking to some of the locals who recognised me. Before I knew it there were four kids sitting around me yapping away. I recognised two of them from my previous visits, but three of them started pointing to the kid beside me and they were jabbering away to me. It took me a while to realise what they were saying, but it was, “he, monkey pocket”. I hadn’t a clue what they meant by “monkey pocket”, but they kept on putting their hand into their pocket and taking it out quickly. I coped on that they were telling me that he was a pickpocket! I don’t know if it was true or not, but the kid looked pretty embarrassed and when the doc turned up he turfed him out. There are loads of monkeys in this town, and one thing I’ve learned about monkeys is to watch your pockets and bags, as they’ll have them away from you as soon as you blink.

I apologised to the doc for not making my morning appt and thanked him once again for the fantastic meal last night. He said, “no problem, you are my friend”. His little helper then brought me in a cup of chai and a savoury snack, both were fantastic. Unfortunately things turned a little sour then, that is to say, my right hand was very sour! Doc took of the dressing and took a look. So did I. The back (or the Dorsal area as Patricia D Cornwell would call it) looked like an erupting volcano. My hand had turned into a big puss bag, and I winced real hard as he squeezed the puss out of my hand. His little helper had a good laugh as I pulled faces for him as this was happening. Can’t wait for my next visit tomorrow at 11:00, the good news is that my hand should be healed by Friday. I’ll be sad to see the back of here as I’ve enjoyed the last couple of days, even though I’ve been stranded.

I decided to have dinner down in the old town, near where the doc lives. On my way there I was greeted by the usual cacophony of calls for rickshaws, tuk tuk’s and hello how are you’s! Amongst these was a girl I half recognised, she drew a breath when she recognised me, it was the doc’s daughter who I danced with last night. I said hello and she asked me if I knew where their house was, I told them I did. She then asked me if I was going there to eat, I told her that I really enjoyed last night, but it was best if I didn’t go two nights in a row! She was disappointed and told me that I should go to their house. I had dinner in a roof top restaurant with a view of the Taj Mahal, I had a mutton biriyani, which was really nice and then made my way back to the hotel.

I got talking to one of the staff, he’d seen me tinker with my bike the other day when the accelerator seemed a little loose, and I couldn’t figure out why. He’d seen me do this and had spoken to his mate, who had gone out and bought a part (which had probably come off in the crash) and replaced it for me. He refused to take payment for it, so I’ll make sure I give him a tip when I’m finally allowed to leave.