Didi on the loose

 I went on an adventure with five didi yesterday. Most of the group were cruising around the east where suspicious looking foreigners are not allowed. Even non-suspicious foreigners like me are banned from this area. They were expected to return about 1pm when we would go on a local tour. When they realised they would not return by then they rang and organised a tour for those of us left behind. The didi were rugged up in their shawls because it is very cold to them. I was very comfortable in my cotton salwar. 

 We walked to the pick up place and waited and waited. Across the road some people were protesting and calling for the removal of some government official. I  do not know how long we waited but dada from the hotel said the taxi drivers were not coming because of the protest. There were about 30 youngish people shouting slogans and waving placards. Several army trucks drove by and police. No-one seemed that interested. The didi went and bought biscuits to sustain themselves. Didi insisted I eat two tasty biscuits a bit like cameo creams but orange flavoured.

Eventually the vehicle turned up and we piled in and were taken up a twisty road to a lookout place. There were food stalls there but none of us wanted to eat. My stomach was still doing cartwheels, so I was not game to eat anything in case the cartwheels turned into a brown waterfall.

Anyway the didi decided they had enough of that place so we returned home.

I tried to buy some Imodium at a small shop outside the hotel but the chemist dada said I could only buy at the market. The market was too far to walk to because of the hills. The whole city is perched somewhat precariously  on a hillside. I wondered to myself if I could catch a taxi. I asked a girl standing nearby if she could speak English. “Of course,” she said.

So I asked her how to catch a taxi and she flagged one down for me. He dropped me off near the market and I started walking. I called into each chemist I passed but no Imodium. I showed them my phone with the different names for Imodium and finally one dada said he had some.

I kept going to the market which is named after the Mahatma. I should have joined the throngs taking selfies with his statue but that did not occur to me. The area is closed to traffic with shops on either side on a big walking area. It is very pleasant.

I found a shop with tasty looking cake. The blueberry cheesecake looked delicious but I was not game to eat anything with dairy. I did buy a piece of chocolate gateau which was khub tasty. I ate it and swallowed an Imodium to go with it. My stomach seemed to be calm so I went to look for a taxi home.

 Sometimes returning home is more challenging than arriving somewhere but I managed to find one.

He dropped me off at the district court building which is not far from my hotel and trudged my way up the hill. It is very satisfying being able to figure things out for myself.