The tally: two bouts of traveler’s diarrhea, one crater on my arm, pestilent boils on the back of my neck and face. When you own a travel website the worst thing you could do is rant about it zoned out on antibiotics. Oh wait, it’s me and that’s what I do.
Do you ever feel trapped in a David Lynch film? One day I woke to discover a dwarf dancing in the kitchen. Replace dwarf with a toothless Indian man clutching a cloth saying “I here to clean”. He sashayed into my room, I shooed him out. He glided into the spare room thinking we were going to play Catch the Intruder. Instead of Special Agent Dale Cooper, Christine burst in with a baby on her hip, and began pointing at him in staccato. “What are you doing in here? You’re not supposed to be here. You can’t just come in here. Go!!” It took her two times to make him understand ‘out’. I channeled Laura Palmer’s homecoming photo, watching this scene with benign detachment. It wasn’t until the aftermath that I noticed my iPhone had vanished from the kitchen table. Since then, I eye any toothless, Indian man with suspicion, wondering if he’ll pull out a neon pink iPhone.
Back to drugs, really refrain from operating any type of vehicle. It may seem effortless, even cool to zip around on a scooter with glee because you paid 150 rupees instead of the normal 250. As you smugly enjoy that feeling of fleecing someone, coupled with drugs, bad shit can happen. In my case, it was a loaned scooter. I tried to speed through a gate where I’m staying and smashed the housing device for those itty-bitty important things called lights. You, too, can waste your travel budget by paying 1,600 rupees, plus labor to cover your mistakes. I now take that whole PSA with the sizzling egg in a pan thing seriously.
Spontaneous splits happen when you mop in flip-flops, then step on a polished tile floor and realize that your legs are sliding far, far apart. Not the fun kind of ‘apart’ that involves a naked man and a condom. The wincing kind. The inevitable arrives when you yelp in pain the second your big toe crushes against a ridiculously high ledge of a doorway. Blood spurts, cursing, then assessment that the injury is on the side of your toe, leaving you wondering how the hell walking will ever be stable again. And what is it with those Mount Everest sized curbs between bedrooms and bathrooms in India?
#5 Lost, Not Found
Let’s blame all of this on meds. Really. My generous hosts lent me mobile broadband Internet free. Just look after the broadband stick, no problem! The day I went to Calungate to purchase my own, somehow, my friend’s stick leaped out of my laptop bag and hurled itself into the black hole of Goa. Price tag for this? A mere 2,500 rupees later. Shhh. I heard something. Yup, that was the sound of Indian rupees leaving my pocket.
You would think these incidents come in three’s. My mojo conjures quantum bad luck. It just grows exponentially. Go ahead, laugh. It’s tragic, comedic, and bound to happen to all of us.
What shades of bad luck did you encounter on your travels?