India Part 6 – Epilogue: Mixing it with Bollywood’s hot young things

LL, Sys, Box

How’s it going?

I’m at the free email thing in Singapore, so I thought I’d fill you in on
our last night in Mumbai.

We met up with Tim’s Norweigan mate who got bitten by the rabid dog. He told
us he had gone to the hospital blind drunk at 6 in the morning and got shots
for rabies and tetanus, and was stoked that it only cost him 650 rupees
($20) – we informed him that this was the stupid westerner price, and he
should have bargained the doctor down to 300 at the most. We cut him loose
after a while and cruised around with two African guys who lived and worked
in Mumbai.

These fellas knew all the hot-spots, and we went to some establishments that
were classier than I have ever been in, and Tim’s Dunlop Volley’s were no
problem, once we informed security that they were the height of fashion in
Australia. We were refused entry to the nightclub in the ultra-glamorous Taj
Hotel because it’s “couples only” and they refused to believe that Tim and I
were gay – I had a right mind to give those naughty doormen a frightful
spanking!

We eventually got into “Polly Esther’s” for 1000 rupees, including enough
drink vouchers for 4 whiskey and cokes each – there was only 45 minutes
until closing time so it was a race against the clock. 10 minutes later we
had drunk them all and were shredding up the dancefloor in a breathtaking
shock-and-awe display that left the Bollywood stars and starlets reaching
for the brown paper bags to return their breathing to normal. The shark, the
sardine, breastroke, freestyle….. a fine “Aquatic-themed” display. I got
refused access to the main dancefloor because I had a drink in my hand, then
because I didn’t have a partner, then because the poor girl I convinced to
help me up there was smoking a cigarette…… I think they just didn’t want
me up there – my dancing is ahead of it’s time in India.

We spent the next three hours trying to rustle up some beers, wandering
through classy hotels and trying to bribe the doormen to get us beer.
Eventually a street hustler came through with the goods and we were able to
watch the sunrise over the “Gateway to India” – a large British-era archway
that looks out to the sea from Mumbai. The British symbolically marched out
of India under the gateway in 1947, so we thought this was a fine way to end
the trip. We would rather have been on top of the archway, but several lines
of security measures defeated us.

Anway, my 15 minutes of free internet are up, so now I’m going to catch the
plane to Perth, then one to Kalgoorlie, then straight to a steakhouse for a
big slab of steak.

Ciao for now, sacred cow.

Michael.

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