Delhi Belly Strikes: Laid Low in Mumbai
August 15, 2010
“In India you will get sick sooner or later.”
We had heard this prognostication in various forms several times from friends, fellow travelers, web sites and guide books.
After overcoming various intestinal ailments during my Peace Corps service and with three months of traveling abroad under my belt doing unrecommended things like eating street food, brushing my teeth with unfiltered water and having ice cubes in my drinks I thought my stomach/immune system was capable of withstanding anything India could throw at it. I had weathered the the fiasco of a bus trip from Amristar to Manali that had deleteriously affected my traveling companions further boosting my confidence in my constitutional fortitude.
That's when India laughed.
From Vashisht/Manali we had a long haul to get to Mumbai to catch our flight to Sri Lanka. It started with a sixteen hour overnight bus ride from Manali to Delhi. We opted for a private deluxe bus this time with A/C, headrests, and reclining seats. The kids from Delhi showed up at just as our bus was lurching to a start. Meredith had bought them a bottle of whiskey as a gift. Shamu was insistent that we have a parting toast. He shouted something at the driver staying the bus for a few moments. We toasted to India, American and our friendship and then bid them farewell.
The bus arrived in Delhi about nine in the morning where Jean and I parted company with my sister. Meredith was catching a flight to Goa for a few days of beach time before going back to work in Shanghai. I wonder where in the world we'll meet up next.
Jean and I made straight for the train station and booked transport on an overnight to Mumbai leaving at 4 in the afternoon. After lunch we sweated it out in the train station waiting room.
The A/C blew hard and heavy in our compartment that night and I woke up in the small hours with the chills. Fortunately, we had been furnished with heavy blankets so I was able to bundle up. Woke up outside of Mumbai feeling a little achy but refreshed. Well, as refreshed as one can feel after two nights of bus and train travel.
Arriving at the train station around eight I worked through a couple of taxi drivers and some preposterous prices before I found a gentleman willing to take us to our accomodations for what I considered a reasonable fare.
We'd called from the train to book a room at the YWCA. Interestingly, the Mumbai YWCA is fairly high end and about six times the cost of any lodging we'd had thus far.
The taxi dropped us off modern looking cinema in the Colaba district of Mumbai. Colaba with it's leafy, tree-lined streets, smooth brick sidewalks, and pedestrian crossing lights at intersections looked just like a municipal area you'd find anywhere in the western world.
Quickly finding the YWCA we strolled past the guard and up the stairs. Stepping into the chilly antiseptic white lobby I began to get the shakes. They were minor and I managed to get through the registration. We hurried up to our room where I took a hot shower and went straight to bed.
Other than a foray to the aforementioned cinema one evening to check out the latest Sylvester Stallone vehicle I've spent the last two days here in this stodgy, overpriced room with the chills, fever and general intestinal unhappiness. I guess that leaves me 0-2 for my Mumbai experiences. Whilst I was laid up Jean was able to get in a couple of sights and do some fabulous shopping.
As our departure from India looms the fever and chills have thankfully vanished. Next stop Sri Lanka.
“In India you will get sick sooner or later.”
We had heard this prognostication in various forms several times from friends, fellow travelers, web sites and guide books.
After overcoming various intestinal ailments during my Peace Corps service and with three months of traveling abroad under my belt doing unrecommended things like eating street food, brushing my teeth with unfiltered water and having ice cubes in my drinks I thought my stomach/immune system was capable of withstanding anything India could throw at it. I had weathered the the fiasco of a bus trip from Amristar to Manali that had deleteriously affected my traveling companions further boosting my confidence in my constitutional fortitude.
That's when India laughed.
From Vashisht/Manali we had a long haul to get to Mumbai to catch our flight to Sri Lanka. It started with a sixteen hour overnight bus ride from Manali to Delhi. We opted for a private deluxe bus this time with A/C, headrests, and reclining seats. The kids from Delhi showed up at just as our bus was lurching to a start. Meredith had bought them a bottle of whiskey as a gift. Shamu was insistent that we have a parting toast. He shouted something at the driver staying the bus for a few moments. We toasted to India, American and our friendship and then bid them farewell.
The bus arrived in Delhi about nine in the morning where Jean and I parted company with my sister. Meredith was catching a flight to Goa for a few days of beach time before going back to work in Shanghai. I wonder where in the world we'll meet up next.
Jean and I made straight for the train station and booked transport on an overnight to Mumbai leaving at 4 in the afternoon. After lunch we sweated it out in the train station waiting room.
The A/C blew hard and heavy in our compartment that night and I woke up in the small hours with the chills. Fortunately, we had been furnished with heavy blankets so I was able to bundle up. Woke up outside of Mumbai feeling a little achy but refreshed. Well, as refreshed as one can feel after two nights of bus and train travel.
Arriving at the train station around eight I worked through a couple of taxi drivers and some preposterous prices before I found a gentleman willing to take us to our accomodations for what I considered a reasonable fare.
We'd called from the train to book a room at the YWCA. Interestingly, the Mumbai YWCA is fairly high end and about six times the cost of any lodging we'd had thus far.
The taxi dropped us off modern looking cinema in the Colaba district of Mumbai. Colaba with it's leafy, tree-lined streets, smooth brick sidewalks, and pedestrian crossing lights at intersections looked just like a municipal area you'd find anywhere in the western world.
Quickly finding the YWCA we strolled past the guard and up the stairs. Stepping into the chilly antiseptic white lobby I began to get the shakes. They were minor and I managed to get through the registration. We hurried up to our room where I took a hot shower and went straight to bed.
Other than a foray to the aforementioned cinema one evening to check out the latest Sylvester Stallone vehicle I've spent the last two days here in this stodgy, overpriced room with the chills, fever and general intestinal unhappiness. I guess that leaves me 0-2 for my Mumbai experiences. Whilst I was laid up Jean was able to get in a couple of sights and do some fabulous shopping.
As our departure from India looms the fever and chills have thankfully vanished. Next stop Sri Lanka.
Comments
MW
When Aaron said about being warned about getting sick, it reminded me how we were advised by various people to avoid meat (no problem), water, salad, fruit, diary... I was wondering what it was we were ok to eat! Ah well, you will soon see we both survived India round 2 with nothing more than the sniffles!