I took the train to Agra today. Having experienced the balancing act of hole in the floor toilets on a moving train I thought I would be ok even though you can end up with wet feet but I was not prepared for the train doing an emergency stop while in the crouching position. The result? Elegant it was not. So food that was destined for passengers 'lunch ended up on the carriage floor. For those who had already been served I imagine they suffered most. Having dispatched the cow that had wondered onto the line we went to the next station where a street trader was dispatched to bring food. I was given a carton of steaming vegetable curry and rice. I am in a small 'green' hotel, no air conditioning, just ceiling fans but in a lovely setting. I have lost count of the number of people who want a selfie with me. Apparently they like grey hair. Of course I have to make sure their hands aren't dipping into my rucksack!
This morning, with my head full of things I still have to do, I got on the tram and forgot to scan my ticket. The inspector got on 2 stops later and said I had to pay 45€ for this lapse. Why can't I scan it now? a reasonable question in my opinion, was met with scorn, so I paid up. On the tram back from the hospital there she was again and checked my ticket with glee. While she was doing that a young man got on, sat down and did not show any sign of even having a ticket, let alone scanning one. The inspector passed him by without a second glance. Today is the last day for packing and organising. Tomorrow the removal company will arrive at 6am to take it all away and put it in storage. Tomorrow night I will sleep in a sleeping bag on the floor and Thursday I go to the hospital to be nuked for the last time. The sleeping bag is the one that saved me from hypothermia when a friend and I were lost for ...
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