Just when we think we’ve got all things Indian figured out, we get sick. Wanting to make the most of this Indian adventure, we got up very early Saturday morning and took a 5 hour train to Jaipur, the Pink City, to spend one night and then return Sunday evening. What possibly could go wrong in just 2 days and 1 night? Underwear, shirts, a couple advils and we’re good to go, right? Wrong. A lingering cold for me turned into to a wicked cough, and for Dave, an upset stomach with fever.
It wasn’t until Sunday that we began to feel badly, however, so at least we had a full day on Saturday. We took bicycle rickshaws around the old city, stuffed ourselves silly on a Rajasthan thali, lost ourselves in a group of Spanish tourists (all the touts were at us rattling off the cost of their goods in Spanish) and ended the evening sharing a deliciously sweet lassi served in a clay cup. Upon slurping the last drop, I smashed it into a nearby can. Like cracking the melted sugar in a crème brule – every human should do this.
Sunday came and with Dave in bed feeling bad, I trekked to a nearby pharmacy where I could buy just about any drug for 25 cents. We missed out on a lot of sights, but I’m sure we’ll be back. I waited to take my cough medicine until we got to the train station, as I knew it would make me drowsy. I know now that I took WAY too much (it didn’t come with a measuring cup or instructions) and I began to feel very odd (perhaps mild hallucinations?) So maybe cheap drugs in India isn’t always a good thing. Once settled into our seats it took a joint effort to kill a cockroach on the windowsill. I drifted in and out of sleep listening to the chatter of the people around me and whacky Indian music playing over ancient speakers.
Before I drifted off and after we killed the cockroach:
Dave to Jenny: “Thank you for being there for me when I needed you.”
Jenny to Dave: “Ditto”