Wednesday, January 23, 2008
The good news - a store with my name. The bad news - I can't find a shop with anything I want to buy in it. If anyone took a notion to open a 'provisions store' anywhere in India (except Pondicherry where there is one), they'd make a killing. Just a guess, but if they stocked say toothpaste, postcards and toilet paper, I would go there. In fact, I'd probably travel across the country to get to it.
It took a three plane hop and the whole day to travel from the south to the north. Each time I saw the the same two and a half hours of Namaste London, featuring Akshay Kumar looking very sad in lots of different outfits all over London. You never find out if he gets the girl. How frustrating is that? I loved Delhi and am looking forward to going back there for a day. There are things to buy there. I checked that out already. Christmas is still to happen in Pantland.
Right now I'm in the lovely pink city of Jaipur, notable for its lack of ATMs and bad tempered vendors. Even if you were to find postcards or toothpaste or toilet paper, I doubt very much you could convince anyone to sell you any of them. Our hotel is hosting a literary festival at the moment. Last year they had Salman Rushdie and Kirin Desai. I would have loved to tell Kirin Desai that I don't think much of The Inheritance of Loss. Instead they've got Gore Vidal. I thought he was dead. I considered approaching him but then realised that the only book I liked of his was in fact written by Kurt Vonnegut.
I've got used to dirty clothes and the world's slowest internet and not being able to buy anything I'd vaguely want outside of the biggest cities. I don't think there's much of a chance I'll develop a taste for wooden chess sets and bangles that turn into Grecian urns. Still, I've finally worked out what our yoga teacher has been saying at the end of the lesson all this time...